69. The Russian Lion
69
THE RUSSIAN LION
RORY
Thirty Minutes Earlier
N iko escorts me through the mansion until we’re standing in front of the closed doors of my father’s study. The muffled drone of male voices is audible through the heavy oak.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” My brother asks, something like worry showing in his eyes when he looks over at me.
But I am resolved and focused,“You know what you need to do.”
His gaze lingers on me for another half a second before he nods. Another breath passes, and he straightens, throwing back his shoulders and knocking loudly. The voices inside fall silent just before someone wrenches open the study doors.
My brother’s hand finds my upper arm, shoving me roughly over the threshold. I shoot what I hope is a convincing glare back at him before taking in my surroundings.
My father sits behind his large, ornate desk, like a king holding court.
Cole DeLuca’s cool and measured stare finds me and I try not to wince, not expecting the Italian Capo to be here…
A handful of men occupy the room. Some I recognize as my father’s soldiers and I guess the rest are Cole’s.
“Aurora, Mona doch’, my daughter, you’re home!” My father steps around the desk, coming towards me and it’s all I can do not to take a step back. The last thing I want is to be within striking distance of my father…Adrik eyes Niko before embracing me in a quick hug for the show of our guests. “I’m so glad you are safe!” He turns to my brother, “Where did you find her?”
I chance a look at DeLuca, who’s watching the exchange with rapt attention.
“With the Irish,”Niko replies coldly.
My father nods, a flash of glee on his face. He might just get away with it. Pinning this whole thing on the Irish… “The Irish bastards will burn for this. We’ll start with the one downstairs.” He reaches out and pinches my cheek hard between his fingers.
It’s a warning.
“ No one touches my daughter.” He turns back to Niko, “Why don’t you go down and let Petr know to go ahead and get started?”
A muscle works in Niko’s jaw and I know he’s reluctant to leave me alone with our father, but I need him to save Aidan. I dip my chin ever so slightly, a subtle nod my father doesn’t catch, but Cole noticed, judging by the look in his eyes.
I ignore him.
“Yes, Pakhan,” Niko gives our father a curt nod before turning on his heel, stalking out of the room without another word. The relief I feel is short-lived.
Adrik lifts his chin, addressing the rest of the men in the study, “A moment, please. I must speak with my daughter.” He puts a firm hand on my shoulder, holding me to him lest I get any ideas about bolting.
The men nod, faces expressionless as they silently rise, buttoning their suits before exiting stoically from the room.
But DeLuca doesn’t move a muscle.
The sight of him lounging by the window sill elicits a slightly miffed expression on Adrik’s face, but even he doesn’t dare to say anything to the Italian Capo. When it’s just the three of us, Adrik gestures for me to take one of the leather bound chairs in front of his desk but I shake my head, “No thank you.”
Adrik frowns, “Have a seat, Aurora. I insist.”
Again, I shake my head, shifting my weight on my feet, needing to buy Niko and Aidan time. “I’d rather stand, thank you.”
My father’s face grows red, fighting the urge to step towards me. “Very well.” A somber expression replaces the anger. “I’m not sure if you were aware during your time in Irish captivity, but your dear fiancé is missing—” he throws a glance in Cole’s direction, but the Italian Capo still has his dark gaze trained on me.
I try not to tremble under the awareness. “—presumed dead. God rest his soul,” Adrik continues. “That being said, you’re a bride meant for the Italians. To unite our two families.” He thrusts out his chest with pride and it’s all I can do not to cringe. “So, after this meeting, you will go with Signore DeLuca and he will find you an acceptable match by week’s end,” my father finishes, quite pleased with himself. All of his carefully laid plans falling into place.
“I will do no such thing,” I inform him, clenching my fists where I hold them at my side. “I’m not going anywhere with DeLuca over here,” gesturing in Cole’s general direction.
“No offense,” I mutter at the sight of his single raised eyebrow.
Oh, I’ve done it now. My father strides forward, the back of his hand rising. I lift my chin and take the hit hard, the force of it throwing me to the side.
He moves to hit me again, but that’s the moment Cole chooses to speak up. His dark, velvety voice fills the office with an air of command, “Once was enough.” To my shock, his words stay my father’s hand and his eyes shoot me a dark promise before he drops his hand to his side.
But I’m not done. Pushing myself back up to my feet, I use the back of my hand to wipe the blood from my lip. “What’s the matter, father? Afraid what might happen if I don’t go with Cole tonight?”
Cole’s eyes flash a warning, his protection only going so far as my father gapes at me, shocked by my sudden insolence. “Aurora, Angel, you going with the Italians is in everybody’s best interest?—”
“Everybody’s best interest?” I cut him off and his eye twitches, “Or yours?” I dig deep for the inner rage I keep buried, drawing it up to give me the strength to continue.
My father stutters, unprepared for my defiance and grappling with Cole’s already expressed displeasure at him for my physical punishment. “I don’t—what are you?—”
“Volkov.”
My father’s mouth snaps shuts and I know without having to look I have Cole’s full attention.
“Did you think I didn’t know about your business with the Volkov Bratva, Papa?”
Adrik pales and a couple beads of sweat appear on his brow, “I won’t hear this nonsense. You do not know what you’re talking about… just a silly little girl.” He rushes forward, wrenching me by the arm, dragging me toward the door. Just before he reaches the door, someone slams it shut in our faces.
Both of us turn to find Cole’s dark expression glaring down at us.“What about Volkov?” His tone is dangerous and I lose a little bit of my nerve staring up into his dark eyes. My father seems torn between trying to force his way out the door and knocking me out to keep me from running my mouth.
I clear my throat as best I can, but my voice still comes out with a rasp, because of my nerves. Banking only on the hope that when I finish, Cole will let me live—a small mercy, I start, “My father got into business with Volkov.” Everyone knows the merciless and volatile Russian gang currently wreaking havoc over in Russia and, most recently, New York.
Cole looks to my father, who appears to be recovering from his initial bout of panic. “I did. Of course I did. It was smart business sense.”
“But, it wasn’t—” I counter, “because you didn’t deliver. And now you owe them. Which is why you have to sell me.”
My father’s eyes glint with malice, “I won’t hear any more of this. These are the words of an insolent daughter.”
I go to open my mouth, but my father cuts me off, continuing, regaining his arrogance with every word, “Aurora, let’s make one thing very clear. You are a daughter of the Bratva. Being a daughter of the Bratva means you have certain obligations. You don’t get to choose. I choose . I own you until I decide who to give you to. Do you understand me?”
I grit my teeth at his words, especially the ones claiming he “owns” me.
“You will have everything,” a smug smile appears on his face, “Just as soon as you marry a man of Cole’s choosing,” He waves a hand like we can be done with all of this. “I’ve heard enough. You will not weasel your way out of this marriage. Again.” His glare laced with violence.
Instinctively, I inch closer to Cole—not my best survival tactic—considering, Cole is far more dangerous than my father.
“I’m not marrying anyone. I can’t!” My voice rises, tired of being overrun by my father.
“And why not?” his voice booms with rage.
“Because I’m already married!”
Silence.
My father’s face slackens before it twists into anger. “Who—?” he demands, before his eyes widen, answering his own question, “The O’Rourke boy?” He seethes, “A fucking Irishman?” He takes a menacing step towards me and I retreat.
“Suka,” My father spits at me, but then he laughs, “You thought that would save you?”
I tense.
“You think that’s a problem ? Can’t be married to two men, can you now?” My father’s anger has reached a level never before seen, and he’s spiraling, a maniacal look in his blue eyes. “Not a worry. I’ll take care of that problem right now. You’ll be a widow by the hour’s end!” A malicious smile twists my father’s face as he leans forward, “Wouldn’t want it to be too quick…”
He takes one step toward the door.And then another.
All sound cuts out and the only image playing in my head is one of my father killing Aidan. The image of his blood on my father’s hands has me seeing red. I spin, lightning fast like on the ice, grabbing hold of Cole’s gun, ripping it out of the holster just inside his jacket.
The Italian Capo lets out a shout, caught off guard, reaching for his gun, but I knock his hand away like Niko showed me this morning.
Spinning, I cock the small handgun, locking in on my target. My father’s hand is already on the door, on his way to murder my husband. I can feel Cole’s arms closing around me, my window of opportunity down to nanoseconds.
My father spots the gun in my hand, but it’s too late.
I return his cold smile, “Das vi danya, Papa.” And I squeeze the trigger. Goodbye .
The recoil of the gun jolts me back hard into Cole’s chest with a grunt.He catches me, wrenching the gun out of my hand before wrapping an arm around me, pinning my arms to my sides.
Both of us stare down at my father’s lifeless body. A trickle of blood spills out of a single wound, right in the center of his forehead.
The Russian Pakhan dead… at my hands.