Chapter 25
Days have passed in a blur—routine, but not—Ani and I falling into a rhythm that makes no sense on paper but feels inevitable in practice.
We bicker over breakfast, snip at each other across the couch, and she calls me “impossible” more times a day than I can count.
Yet, underneath every snarky barb and sarcastic comment, is this constant electricity.
The buzz doesn’t fade no matter how long the day drags on—or how much we grate on each other’s nerves.
When night falls and the city grows quiet, all that bickering is nothing more than foreplay.
Every jab and sharp-witted word is nothing more than fuel for an evening of hate fucking that leaves us both wrecked, panting, and tangled together in sweaty sheets.
Although I’m pretty sure the hate has waned.
It’s exhausting. Addictive. And I can’t fucking get enough.
This morning, she was unusually quiet as I readied and left for the club.
With traffic not too heavy this morning, I reached it pretty quickly, beating both my brothers and Alek.
The smell of bleach still lingers faintly from the staff’s early morning scrub-down before they left.
The stage is dark, the bar is empty, and the whole place is far too quiet without the music and bodies to fill it. But, empty is what we need right now.
Enzo, Cillian, and then Alek all filter into the club within minutes of me taking a seat in a large booth near the back office. They all join me as I lean forward, my elbows propped on the table, eager to see what prompted this unplanned meeting this morning.
“Things aren’t settling,” Alek shares, laying a folder on the table before taking the seat opposite me.
Cillian spreads the papers across the table—ledgers, accounts, and surveillance photos.
Each of the photos depicts the same middle-aged man in meetings with a slew of different men.
Shuffling through the photos before me, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out and swipe it open to find a message from Ani.
When are you coming back home?
Don’t know.
I’m working.
Ok…
Alek taps his finger on one of the photos of the graying, portly man. “That’s Aram. He was my father’s and Uncle Rurik’s right-hand man, running the business with pretty much no oversight. If the money was flowing and the cops were quiet, neither of them gave a shit how he did it.”
Enzo lounges back in his chair with a glass of water, smirking like usual. “Apparently, he didn’t get the memo.”
The three of them talk about Aram and the best way to deal with this wrinkled, pot-bellied problem.
I only half pay attention, because the other half of it is across the city with Ani.
Her last messages weren’t the usual curt, playful, and bratty banter that I’ve come to expect from her.
They’re even more solemn than her attitude this morning.
Trying to rein in my attention, I pick up my phone and forgoing all pretense and pleasantries, I type out a quick message.
What’s going on?
What’s wrong?
I toss my phone back onto the table when she doesn’t respond right away. Her reply finally lights up my screen, and I sense that something is wrong before I even open it. When I do, I find three simple words.
I miss home.
She’s homesick—missing the world she left behind when her brother forced her to come to New York and marry me.
My little pet is sad, and it physically pains me that I can’t be there to try to comfort her right now.
Unfortunately, my family needs my help to deal with the issue Alek thrust upon us when he shoved Ani into my lap, and I can’t afford her being a distraction right now. Yet, I can’t stop myself.
I’ll be home as soon as I can.
Promise.
We’ll figure it out.
I watch the dots appear and disappear for a minute as she types. It’s sharp and laced with the quick-bratty wit I’ve learned to love—and want to crush—simultaneously.
Russian cock isn’t exactly a fix for homesickness.
There’s my girl.
I snort softly, shaking my head. Those cheeky little jabs that her brother was so eager to get rid of have been my fucking undoing.
Doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.
“That her?” Enzo asks, noticing the grin tugging at the corners of my lips.
I shove my phone back into my pocket before answering, “Yeah.”
He leans back in his seat, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re fucking strung tight over her, aren’t you?”
“Watch it,” I warn, my tone flat with a hint of gruffness.
“Just admit it, brother. That little blonde princess has gotten under your skin. She’s driving you so insane, you can’t even bring yourself to acknowledge it.”
Only, I have… I can’t stop thinking about what she’s fucking done to me. I don’t know when it happened, but some primal reflex has taken root in me—growing deeper with every day since she became mine. I’m fucking falling for my wife…
“He’s not wrong.” Cillian’s deep voice cuts through my thoughts. “It’s bad enough she’s Alek’s only family, but if she’s more than just a marriage on paper to you, that makes her a liability.”
“She’s not a liability,” I bite.
“We count on you to be cold and calculated, and right now your head is split between her and business. It’s not safe… For her or for us.”
“I’m aware,” I grumble, my tone laced with irritation and protectiveness as I rap my fingers anxiously against the table. “I’ll do what’s necessary. I don’t need a fucking lecture.”
On the other side of the table, Alek tilts his head slightly and lightly clears his throat. “My father’s men… They aren’t happy. They don’t like that their side businesses are gone. They don’t like that they’ve been sidelined by The Kings—their enemies.”
“They’ll fucking adapt,” I snarl.
“No. They won’t.” Alek shakes his head. “Not all of them. Some of these men have made fortunes trafficking women and moving drugs under the radar. Now it’s being dismantled.
They’re old school. They don’t have loyalty to anyone but each other.
These are the type of men who would rape, murder, and sell their mothers and daughters if it meant they knew they could capitalize on it.
You think they’ll just roll over and play nice?
There will be a fallout, and that means Ani could be a target. ”
“That means we’re all a target,” I correct.
Cillian sucks in a sharp breath. “Including Madison and Eavan.”
“I know.” I nod, my jaw tight. “We’ll make arrangements if it escalates. I’m sure Hawk could have a team here within days. Because nothing is going to happen to my family”—especially my Ani—“Not while I’m breathing.”
The room falls into a calculated quiet, each of us considering the ramifications of this merger between our families and how it might play out.
Enzo finally breaks the silence. “So we cut it off at the root. Keep money flowing, ensure men stay in line, and make very public examples of anyone who steps out. Same as always.”
“It won’t be that simple,” Alek insists. “But it’s a start.” The club feels like a war room instead of a den of sin, all of us hashing through details for over an hour—who’s loyal, who’s wavering, and where the weak points are.
Eventually, Alek pushes back from the table, adjusting his jacket as he rises. “I’ve got crews to check on. I’ll make sure the message gets reinforced on my end.” He turns to leave the table and pauses. “Nik, can I have a minute?”
After pushing from the table, I walk with him to the door.
“This is about Ani.” His voice is low and laced with concern. “Her safety… I need you to ensure that she’s safe. I’ll immediately let you know of any threats. If this escalates, I want those guys brought in right away. Full detail. No questions. Understand?”
“Consider it done.” While I don’t appreciate this kid barking orders at me, I can’t argue with him. If she were in his care instead of mine, I’d be demanding the same thing. Alek nods and turns to leave, pausing when I grab his arm. “I need your help with something, too.”