Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
ANDREI
He’s not here.
That dirty rat fucker abandoned his men at the first sign of trouble. If I wasn’t so irate, I’d laugh at Oleg’s cowardice.
Shots ring out from downstairs and I know my men are making quick work of clearing the rooms in the palatial compound, rounding up Antonov soldiers that seem more confused and disoriented than anything else.
I don’t know what led me to Oleg’s bedroom. Maybe I want to see for myself where the monster lays his head at night.
Opening the heavy doors, I enter a room fit for a king, albeit a mafia king. All glitzy gold decor, floor to ceiling marble and chandeliers dripping with crystals. It’s tacky, exactly what I would expect from a man without a drop of class.
My fingers are curled tight around my pistol as I clear the room, moving from the walk-in closet to the adjoining bathroom. There’s not a paper out of place, not even a discarded suit jacket draped over a chair or a pair of slippers abandoned on the plush white carpet.
But as I move past the giant canopied bed in the center of the room, something catches my attention. The mattress is askew; the duvet rumpled, and peeking out just underneath the bed is a black pistol.
Bending, I pick up the gleaming metal. After checking that the safety is on, I tuck it into my waistband.
The hairs on my neck stand on end as I scan the room again.
There’s a bucket of cleaning supplies in one corner, but nothing else is out of the ordinary.
A maid could have run scared from here when she heard us blow-up the guard tower.
It would be enough to make anyone bolt in fear.
Waving my hand over the device to trigger the mic on our comms, I call through to Yulian, my right hand and head of security. “I need an update.”
His voice comes through my ear-piece a moment later. “He’s not here,” he says, confirming what I already knew in my gut.
“And Kira?” I bark.
“Nothing. No sign of her. Your brothers tore apart Oleg’s office. They found nothing.”
I curse under my breath, frustration pulsing through me. Oleg Antonov should be dead by now, and I should have been the one to slit his throat and watch him bleed out. For what he did to my father. For what he did to my entire family.
“Anything in the bedroom?” Yulian asks.
“No,” I say through clenched teeth. “What about the others?”
“The innocents have been released, and we're questioning three of his top lieutenants now.”
“Good. Keep them alive until I come down.”
“Copy that.”
Anger pumps through my veins, and I grab a flower arrangement off a table and hurl it against the wall.
Glass shatters into a thousand pieces and water sloshes everywhere, soaking the carpet as flowers scatter across the floor.
The destruction quiets the rage inside me, as does the knowledge that my final order today will be to burn this place to the ground.
I might not be walking away with Oleg’s life, but leaving his beloved estate a pile of smoking ashes will take the edge off. For now.
I turn to leave the room, but a faint noise stops me in my tracks. A muffled sound, like a cough. I stiffen, a shiver of awareness snaking down my spine.
Tightening my hold on the Glock, I go stock still, listening. Years of training kick in. My men are swarming the property and we’ve taken out all key targets, but it’s always possible someone slipped through the cracks. It could explain the gun on the floor.
The sound again, like a stifled sob. Silence falls, but this time as my eyes sweep the room, I find something I overlooked earlier.
Tucked into the far wall is a faint outline of a door. There’s no doorknob, but now that I look more closely, it’s something.
In five quick strides, I'm in front of the door, listening. I inwardly curse at my sloppiness—if it was Oleg or one of his men hiding in here, I’d be dead already. Gun at the ready, I kick at the door, which pops open with a click. I stand back, out of the line of fire. Prepared for anything.
I don’t know what I expect, but it’s not this. My pistol is pointed at a woman cowering on the floor of the closet. A pair of gorgeous gray eyes, framed with thick black lashes, stare up at me in alarm.
“Please… please don’t hurt me.” Her hoarse voice sounds strained. I can almost taste her fear. Her pulse pounds in her delicate throat, and I find it strangely compelling.
My gaze travels lower, and it’s then that I notice she's wearing some sort of naughty French maid’s costume that leaves nothing to the imagination.
I nearly laugh at my twist of luck. One of Oleg’s whores handed to me on a silver fucking platter, with a big, fat, shiny bow.
“Get up,” I order. She winces at my sharp tone but follows my direction, unfolding her body from the ground and stepping out of the closet.
She’s undeniably beautiful, all lush curves and pouty lips, but I can’t be thinking with my dick.
I motion for her to step forward into the light so I can get a better look at her.
She’s even more breathtaking up close. I’m struck by how young she is.
Young and vulnerable, but perfect. She’s of average height with soft curves, her ample breasts spilling out of her ridiculous outfit.
Her skin is smooth and creamy, and even with little make-up, her face is gorgeous with almond-shaped eyes that seem to miss nothing.
My chest twists knowing today won’t end well for her.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she rasps, raising her hands in surrender.
I smile softly. I don’t need to threaten her. The gun in my hand is enough of a threat. “I’ll be the one making the demands from now on. First off, put your hands down. This isn’t a bank robbery.” When she complies, I nod. “Now tell me who you are.”
“I work here. I’m a maid,” she says, fighting to keep her voice steady.
I smirk and gesture at her outfit. “Dressed like that, I find it hard to believe you can do much cleaning.”
“This is the uniform he makes us wear.” Catching my doubtful expression, she releases a huff of irritation. “I’m not a… a prostitute, if that’s what you think.”
“That’s exactly what I think you are. So how about you tell me the truth? Keep on playing games and you’ll join me and my men downstairs. Trust me when I tell you, we have some fun ways of getting people to talk.”
Her fingers curl into fists by her side and a red flush overtakes her face and travels downward towards her chest. My eyes land on overflowing tits, when a flicker of something catches my attention.
“Don’t move.” I press my gun against her ribs, while my other hand travels down the front of her dress. I feel soft skin, lush breasts and then something else entirely. She gasps as I pull out a wad of cash from the inside of her bra.
“Interesting.” I tilt my head and study her more closely. “Very interesting. I think it’s time you started talking, krasotka. Start with your name.”
“Georgia, my name is Georgia Doukas.” Her words come out surprisingly strong, even if I can hear a little tremor in her voice. “The money is Oleg’s. I took it from under his mattress, but I swear I know nothing. Please, just let me go. I’ll walk away and tell no one about this.”
“Oh, there’s no need to be discreet. I want Oleg to know it was the Kozlovs behind this attack.
” Recognition lights up her eyes. The Kozlov Bratva is notorious throughout the Tri-State area.
My family is just as powerful and connected as the Antonovs.
More so since I took over as pakhan after my father’s assassination.
We’re not flashy or loud, but we rule with an iron fist.
Silence descends. She blinks up at me but doesn’t move a muscle. Whether it’s fear or just plain stupidity that keeps her silent, I don’t know, but I’m losing patience.
“I don’t have time for this shit.” I raise my gun to her head. “You’re clearly fucking him, which means you know something. So how about you tell me where he is and we get this over with?”
She swallows hard, flinching at the muzzle against her temple. “I have no idea. I really—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” I roar, clicking the safety of my gun.
“Please, I’m not doing anything with him.
I’m nothing to Oleg,” she gasps, shaking like a leaf.
“My father borrowed money from him and wasn’t able to repay the loan.
I’m working off my family’s debt.” When I raise my eyebrows she adds, “As a maid. That’s what I agreed to at least, but he wanted more. I needed to get out of here.”
Pieces of the puzzle fall into place. The money, the gun. “You were trying to escape,” I say plainly. Though escape doesn’t prove her innocence. I’m sure all of Oleg’s lovers attempted to escape him at one point or another.
Georgia’s nostrils flare. “Yes. I’ve only been here for a few weeks. I know nothing, have seen nothing. I’ll be of no use to you.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” I smile wolfishly. “I think you could prove very useful to me.”
Her fear gives way to anger as she glares daggers at me.
I almost applaud her spirit, standing up to the big bad mobster.
There’s something about her—the intensity of her gaze, the way she holds her head high, the stubborn angle of her chin—that intrigues me.
And it would give me no greater pleasure than to take what Oleg considers his property.
“New plan,” I tell her. “You’re coming with me.”
“What!? No!” Her body tenses in panic. “Why do you want me?”
“I don’t know yet. But I have a feeling you’re going to be useful.”
Despite her fierce expression, tears trail down her cheeks. But I’m immune to tears, as I’m immune to all displays of emotion. My hand is firm on her arm. “Either fold yourself back in that closet while we turn this compound into an inferno, or come with me and be mine. Your choice.”
“That’s a really shitty choice,” she seethes. Again, that feisty spirit. Attraction roars to life. I don’t know if I should spank her ass or kiss her. Although both options sound equally compelling.
“Ticktock, sweetheart. What will it be?”
“What will what be?” A voice echoes behind me. Turning, I find Daniil, my younger brother, watching us intently from the doorway. “Well, well, who is this?” The look of carnal interest he gives Georgia tightens my stomach.
“This is Georgia. She was Oleg’s maid. Now she’s coming with us.”
“A maid, huh?” Daniil looks amused as he takes in her barely there uniform. The sneer on Georgia’s face tells me she’s enjoying my brother’s blatant perusal as much as I am—meaning not at all. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I came here to tell you we need to wrap up.”
“Did you hear that?” I turn to Georgia, standing as rigid as a board. “It’s time for us to go.”
Daniil cocks an eyebrow when he realizes I’m serious about taking Georgia with us, but he says nothing—he knows better than to question my authority in front of an outsider. When we’re alone, it’s a different story. With a quick nod, he says, “I’ll lead the way.”
“I’m not going with you.” She rips her arm out of my grip and her eyes dart to the open door behind Daniil, as if she’s considering making a run for it. Even if Daniil and I weren’t both heavily armed, she wouldn’t get far. But it seems she needs a reminder that we’re the ones in charge.
“Cover me,” I say to my brother as I tuck my pistol into its holster.
I reach for Georgia, pulling her flush against my body, allowing her to feel every ounce of male hardness I possess.
A blush rushes to her cheeks, and she stops struggling as I wrench her arms behind her, fastening her wrists together with a zip tie.
“You’re the same as him. A monster,” she spits, venom coating each word.
“No, krasotka, I’m nothing like him.” I grip her chin, turning her face up towards mine so she doesn’t miss a word.
“You’ll fucking love it when my hands are on you.
You’ll beg me for more, for everything that I have to give.
” My thumb brushes across her cheek, down over her lips as she releases a ragged breath that sounds more like arousal than fear.
“We need to move, Andrei.” My brother’s impatient voice breaks the charged moment between us. As if his words summoned them, the choppers flare to life.
“What will it be, printsessa? Stay here as we burn this place down, or join our band of merry men?” Daniil snorts, but I ignore him, watching Georgia as she wrestles with the decision.
“You're insane,” she growls, then marches towards the door.
“Seems she’s figured you out rather quickly,” Daniil quips.
“Fuck off.”
I catch up with Georgia in the hallway and take hold of her arm above the elbow.
Even though all of Oleg’s men are dead or in our custody, Daniil provides cover as we slip through the long corridors, my hand guiding Georgia towards the landing of the grand staircase.
Knowing the view that awaits us below, I stop and turn her to face me.
“Close your eyes. I’ll lead you the rest of the way.” Her head snaps back as if my suggestion is ludicrous. “It’s not a pretty sight,” I state.
She shrugs defiantly.
“Suit yourself.”
Dead bodies lie haphazardly on the foyer floor in pools of blood.
The color drains from her face and Georgia flicks her gaze upwards, avoiding the worst of the carnage.
I hope it serves as a stark reminder that Oleg and I are opposite sides of the same sullied coin.
I may be nothing like that animal, but we exist in the same underworld.
Several heavy-lift choppers await our arrival on the back lawn of the estate. As we walk across the expanse of green, I bring her in close to me, a protective gesture even if her body goes rigid at my touch.
“I’m perfectly capable of walking without your help.” She wriggles her body in an attempt to break free from my grasp, but I just pull her closer.
“Don’t fight me,” I whisper against her neck. “You’re mine now, and you’ll do as I say.”
“Never,” she hisses, attempting to shake off my grasp.
A silent laugh shakes my chest. I’ll rather enjoy teaching her how to behave.
I own her. Even if she doesn’t know it yet, she will soon.