Chapter 5 – Markos
“If we leave now, we can make it before the Russians leave New Orleans,” Iosif said, opening the door to the hangar. The rush of breeze, the sea’s gentle caress, tousled his mop of hair. The slouch in his body accentuated his naturally slim form. One good gust, and he’d topple.
I stood next to the first post of the dock. The early afternoon light glittered on the ocean. Across the gulf, Danica waited. That was the goal, the prize. The perfect opportunity for strengthening my personal ambitions. And yet, I wasn’t rushing toward her.
“Markos?” Iosif demanded.
“What time does your brother dock?” I asked.
Knowing I knew the damn answer, Iosif growled, “Iakovos said he’d be in with the evening tide.”
The captain was coming back early for the nocturnal summons.
Like the others, he was no doubt pissed at being pulled from his work to deal with me.
My actions warranted a swift retribution.
When our negotiations were met with a stern refusal, the others decided we should bide our time to make a move and expand our shipping ventures to the East Coast. But not me.
I was a man of action. Forcing the Russians to the table seemed logical—taking their princess as my bride was personal.
How else would a monster like me take a wife?
No woman would willingly accept my hand in marriage.
Stealing the Bratva princess killed two birds with one stone.
Until the thugs I hired screwed up their contract.
If it had been one of the others to fuck up, I would be plotting their demise as the others no doubt were mine.
But if I get the bratva princess first....
I could still claim the double victory.
There was just enough time for a snatch and grab. One more powerplay before the full weight of the Twelve descended on me. I rose on the balls of my feet. “We need to unload and have the trucks take the cargo to Tampa before dawn.”
Business had to continue despite the problem in leadership that I created.
They could call me out on the mess with the kidnapping, but never would any of the others question my work.
I was a sworn member of our organization—our family came first. My record for smuggling illicit goods was impeccable and without reproach.
“Markos, we know all of that. Pavlos, Filippos, and Giannis are already on it with two crews. This is your chance, my friend,” Iosif insisted. Standing there with a superhero tee shirt, he looked like he belonged behind a computer screen, not on an adventure on the high seas.
My adorable baby cousin. He was the youngest of the Twelve, but he was completely loyal to me since I was the one who trained him and put his name forward to fill the twelfth seat when the opening became available.
He would follow me to the ends of the earth if I asked—which was why the shadow of my mess couldn’t fall on him.
“I don’t know if there’s enough time,” I hedged.
“Bullshit! There’s plenty of time.” Iosif fidgeted with a piece of rope. “You want the girl, you’d better go steal her.”
The trouble was, I didn’t want the girl. What she represented, however, was another story.
“And I don’t think we’ll make it in time,” I drawled, turning my face to the southwest. “Wind’s against us.”
“Wind’s against us—the fucking wind’s against us,” Iosif muttered. “You’re insane. No! Wait, you’re fucking nuts. You’ve been planning this for weeks and weeks—”
“And more weeks,” I added helpfully.
My cousin didn’t see it that way. He marched over and menaced right in my face, “I know what you want to prove. So do it!”
I shook my head. “It’s not right.”
“You’ve never let right or wrong stop you before!” Iosif boomed, arms flung wide.
I wiped the spittle off my cheek. Authority crept into my voice as I pulled seniority on my cousin. “Watch yourself.”
Iosif stumbled back. “Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.”
Now he sounded like the king.
I arched a brow. “Care to elaborate?”
“It’s her.”
Grinning at him, I cocked my head. “Yes, Danica will leave New Orleans with her bachelorette party and will return to Boston where the wedding to the Serbian will take place in a few weeks. What about it?”
“No.” Iosif pointed a finger at me. “The other one—Serena with no last name.”
Tightness flickered in my chest. “I don’t see how she has anything to do with it.”
What the young pup didn’t know was that our king was planning to attach her to him. I flexed my jaw, letting the ache from Atlas’s fist ground me.
“You took her to your house. You never take women home.”
I began to walk away. But the truth followed me, yapping at my heels.
“She was in your bed, Mama said.”
“Your mother is an old windbag.”
“Fine way to talk about your aunt and the woman who took you in,” Iosif bristled.
A strangled sigh left my lips. I stopped short, tugging on a boat’s mooring line. “Alright, let’s say it was her—”
“Serena.”
“Seeing a traumatized, battered woman show up was bad enough. The fact that she’s the wrong woman?
Worse. We need to do damage control before we go kidnapping a second woman.
” I rounded on Iosif, fingers around his throat and holding him over the water.
Getting right in his face, I added in a voice that brooked no argument.
“So yes, when I say the wind is against us, I fucking mean the wind is against us.”
I shook my cousin before I let go. Only years of acquiring a special kind of balance allowed him not to drop into the water.
“Don’t give up on your plans, Black Tide,” he whispered.
That nickname, one that fit me well—one that I’d earned. “I won’t.” I never did.
***
There’d been a mess with tonight’s shipment.
The boat had nearly been caught by the authorities, which meant we unloaded farther up the coast. It took a combined effort, and once the goods were safely on their way to Tampa, it was decided the midnight meeting of our leadership would be delayed for another night.
Now that the rest of my night was free, I crept into the dark house, a plate of roast lamb in one hand and fresh bread in the other.
Serena dozed in an armchair. I chuckled softly, since I no doubt scared her half to death outside just a little while ago.
Walking back from the marina, I was headed to my aunt’s house for these containers of dinner, when I surprised my guest sneaking about outside.
Which she’d been told not to do.
Admiration flared inside me, and I laughed softly again.
I liked her, if only for the streak of stubbornness so like my own.
The moment she was told not to do something, it was exactly what she’d done.
Quietly, I lit several candles and began to set the small round table.
The simple white dishes clacked softly. I added linens and silverware, noting how the setting looked more appealing than any of the Michelin restaurants in the big city.
Every time I came home, the same wave of nostalgia washed over me.
This was where I belonged, not the condo in Tampa.
While there was a view of the sea, her song was smothered by the concrete jungle and the thick walls.
Here, it played through the open window, carried on the salty breeze.
I listened to its rhythmic roar, rush, and crash as I worked, smiling at the familiar tune.
“Mother of god, you scared me!”
Just hearing her voice brought a smile to my lips. I continued to move about, setting the steaming dishes of food out.
“Join me for dinner?” I intoned.
Serena stepped into the kitchen. “You’re the one who rescued me.”
“I am.”
“It wasn’t a question. But this is.” Her voice took on a hard edge. “Your friend said I wasn’t free to leave. Why?”
From the corner of my eye, I watched her.
Long, golden hair fell to her hips. Her face was bandaged, but beneath the damage was a raging beauty that was raw and natural.
The kind models and paint could never replicate.
She was petite, much smaller than me, but those curves.
... Theos! They would drive a man to madness.
My blood heated in an instinctual reaction.
“We needed to have a little chat.” I turned.
Serena peered through the dark kitchen. I knew she searched for my face.
I wasn’t ready to show her that—which was only delaying the inevitable.
For a little while, I could pretend I wasn’t a monster of nightmares, one that would send her screaming for safety.
When she couldn’t make out my features, she tipped her chin up.
“What’s up with the theatrics?” she demanded.
Ah, that imperious tone. Mirth twitched on my lips. This woman carried a designer handbag and spoke with authority. It was safe to guess she came from money.
“What’s your last name, Serena?”
“Answer mine first.”
Now I really did smile. “There’s no overhead lighting.”
She paused. “So that’s why I couldn’t find a switch. How very...rustic.”
That was her trying to be polite. I wanted to laugh at the high-maintenance damsel making the best of roughing it. But I kept my humor to myself.
“We keep to the older ways,” I explained. “Energy bills are low, we’re self-sufficient, and it’s a greener way to live. The items that do run on electricity are powered by means of our own devising, which makes the electric company hate us. Your turn.”
“Larson.”
That one word felt like a lie. My gut, which was never wrong, told me that she was as far from Scandinavian heritage as I was. No, this beauty was from the Mediterranean Basin, same as me.
“Why did those men take you, Serena?” I leaned against the fridge.
“They’d been hired to, I suppose,” she said with a shrug.
A bit of truth. But I would need more than that.
“When can I go?” she demanded. She stepped closer to a candle, and the shaft of light fell across her marred visage.
The swelling was thankfully reduced, but the marks....
Theos. That’s my fault. “You’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future.”
Serena huffed, delicate nostrils flaring. The dim light of the table candles danced in her eyes. Beautiful, fucking beautiful. That fire deep in them, it blazed with a hellish wrath.
Heat coursed through my veins.
“Why?” she snarled.
“You’ve seen too much. I can’t have you leaving.”
Who knew exactly what she’d overheard on the journey?
And she might have seen me shoot the mercenaries.
No, to protect our people and the village, our home, Atlas was right.
She had to stay. But it was easier if she hated me, so when Iosif married her, she wouldn’t see him as the enemy.
For my cousin’s sake, I would take the brunt of her wrath.
The fact that she’d been hurt during the extraction factored into the equation. Leaving here would make her vulnerable. The wrath of the Twelve would never fall on her. I would prevent that at all costs, even if it meant sacrificing her to Iosif.
“Come, eat with me,” I beckoned her to the table.
She didn’t want to. But the begrudging way she moved to the seat told me she was probably starving. It wasn’t like there was much in the house by way of groceries.
“So I’m your prisoner,” she sassed. “Are you going to tie me up?”
Oh, beauty.... I liked that idea. Liked it far too much. My groin tightened at the idea of her slim wrists caught in an intricate knot, the rough rope coiled down her smooth skin, her body pinned in place with the lengths of hemp.
I banished those thoughts and cleared my throat. “When you feel recovered, I’ll introduce you to Dorothea. We work around the village, and there’s always odd jobs to do.”
“Village.” Incredulity filled her voice. “Where the hell am I? Europe?”
“Florida.” I chuckled, enjoying the shock that slipped over her face.
“Florida.” She tasted the word. “I’m in...Florida.”
“Yes.”
“And you expect me to work? For you?”
There it was, the spoilt little princess coming out of her shell. Those fine fingers never saw a day of hard labor in their life. Theos, she was going to hate it here.
I couldn’t wait to see her squirm. My gaze dipped to her pursed lips, and more heat spread through my stomach.
She’s not for you. I fisted my hand under the table.
“We help our neighbors,” I said simply.
Serena plucked at the food.
“I’m not your neighbor,” she said, shoving a bite of lamb into her mouth. “I’m your captive.”
I watched her chew, savoring the way her jaw tensed with defiance even as her eyes fluttered at the taste.
Since I couldn’t cook, when I visited the village, I relied on my aunt, who believed food was the cure for everything, including a wild heart.
I wondered if Serena’s was truly wild or just temporarily feral from fear.
“Semantics,” I replied, serving myself. “You’ll find everyone works here. Even me.”
“And what exactly do you do?” Her fork clinked against the plate as she stabbed another piece of meat.
I leaned forward, letting the candlelight catch more of my features, but careful to keep the ugly parts turned away. “I protect what’s mine.”
Something shifted in her expression—recognition perhaps, or a deeper fear. She set her fork down slowly. “I think I’ve had enough of your protection for one night.”
She rose, and I mimicked her movements. She frowned at the display of manners. While she would find me as untamed as the sea, I did possess some knowledge of land behavior.
“Goodnight, captor,” she breathed. “Thank you for the meal.”
“It’s Markos, and you can finish once I leave,” I said lightly, scooping a piece of bread before turning to the door. “Make sure you stay indoors this time, prinkípissa.”
“Why? What monsters roam the streets down here?” Her teasing lilt hid the drops of fear.
“Only the worst kind—but don’t fear. You’re safe in my home. No one will touch you,” I promised and left. Because it was true. We weren’t good men, and I was the worst. Someone would have to have a death wish to mess with what was mine.
She’s not for you.... I clenched my jaw.
It might be temporary, but for now, she was safe.
I would have to hammer it into Iosif’s thick skull to keep things that way.
Yet as I resolved to do that, a voice whispered that he wasn’t up to the task.
He was a soft kid, with a too-kind heart. That wasn’t enough to protect her.
No, he would need to blacken his soul to do that.
I stepped out into the night, swallowed by darkness. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting silver light across the small village that most maps forgot. The sea’s rhythm pulsed in my ears as I walked the familiar path toward the shore.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Theos, I hated the damn thing, but it was necessary. The message said the meeting had been rescheduled for the next few nights. Iakovos was dealing with dock patrol.
Thanking whatever saint was looking down on me, I shucked my shirt and hurried to answer the call of the waves. A moonlit swim was just the thing I needed to clear my head.