Chapter 8 – Ivan
Boris: The Italians are jumpy.
Kiril: They’d better be.
Boris: I prefer them squirming.
Georgi: Put the damn phones down and pay attention. Boss is ready to strike.
Boris: Anyone want Italian for dinner?
Kiril: Me! Pasta and red sauce at my house tonight?
Boris: As long as your wife isn’t cooking. She isn’t looking too good.
Kiril: The correct term is “beautiful” or “glowing.”
Kiril: And I would never ask a woman 38 weeks prego to cook. I’ll make the pasta.
Boris: Count me in!
Georgi: Knock it the fuck off and watch the boss’s six!
I held Hristo for a blissful hour—over half a decade ago.
While the doctors and surgeons tried and failed to save his mother, I cradled the infant and marveled over how my life had changed.
Hristo had an abnormal growth, a bundle of blood vessels on his tiny head back by his ear.
The doctors said it would fade as he aged.
It didn’t matter to me. He was healthy, and he was mine.
The on-and-off again relationship with one of the girls at the club, who’d lied about her birth control, gave me the best possible gift in life.
And then my son was taken away.
Stolen by an unknown enemy, and I razed hell looking for him.
Now he was back. Right within my grasp. No organization, no power player in the underworld was going to stand between me and my own.
But it wasn’t the don who put up the fight. It was the child’s guardian.
She loved him. That much was obvious. It almost soothed my inner rage to see her this fiercely protective of my child.
He’d been safe with her. Loved and nurtured.
But now it was time for him to come home.
That boy in the SUV was my son. My blood.
He would grow to rule at my side, to take over every scrap of my kingdom when I was gone.
He was my legacy.
“I have no use for you,” I said, but the lie tasted bitter on my tongue. Poppy was attractive, charming, the kind of woman I couldn’t stop looking at. And she was offering herself to me?
“I beg to differ.” The delicate flower tipped up her chin. “I know everything there is to know about Brady. You said you didn’t want to hurt him? Then don’t separate us.”
That was true. Ripping the child away from those he knew would be unnecessarily cruel. He would get over it. Children were resilient, but since there was another way…and such a tempting way at that.
I took a step forward, ignoring the guns pointed in my direction. “If you come with me, it will be the end of your life as you know it.”
She had to know what was at stake. That this wasn’t some temporary change of residence. My world wasn’t kind to its inhabitants. Every day was a fight for survival.
“Done.” Poppy planted her hands on her hips. She was trying so very hard to hide the shake in her bones.
Deep in my chest, something twinged. Some guilt, perhaps.
It was a foreign emotion, not easily recognizable.
It was easy to take her, to rip her straight from the pleasant life she led.
But her determination was nothing short of admirable.
She seemed timid, and I knew she was shy.
This fierce side of her? It was stunning.
“You know what I am?” I pressed, taking another step.
Poppy slid a glance down my body. A current of electricity followed her gaze, lighting the nerves along my skin with a dark fire.
“You’re a don, a boss, same as him.” She jerked her chin to the side.
Oh no, my little flower, I am nothing like him. I was a creature far worse. There was no polished veneer to hide behind. My actions were my creed. Even my friends feared me. “And does that frighten you? The prospect of living with mobsters?”
“What you might not know is that I was born the same as Brady. So no, I’m not frightened. This is a kind of homecoming.” The words quaked on her tongue. She was terrified and trying hard not to show it.
“A mafia princess?” How had I not seen it before now? She’d even said it during her rushed explanation, but I was too blazing mad to pick out the detail. It stuck this time. “And yet you’ve been living in the wilderness all this time?”
“Enough,” Penelope snapped. She’d risen and slowly made her way to her friend. “We’re going to forget this ever happened. The Mad Dog is going to go back to his turf, make amends for his rough intrusion before he blows the best business deal of his life, and you’re coming inside with me.”
Poppy wrenched herself out of the other woman’s grasp. “He’s not going anywhere, Penny. You can see it in his face.”
A smile flickered over my mouth. The little flower understood.
As far as the deal? Losing Mancini’s backing would be a tough blow. But I’d recovered from worse. That wasn’t enough of a deterrent.
“If the boy is his son, then he does have a claim,” Mancini added, a warning edging his voice.
“Alessio! This is insanity! Brady doesn’t belong to this man, and Poppy can’t go with him!” Penelope rounded on her husband.
“Get the boy,” I clipped out.
Poppy let out a long breath, blowing air between her lips. “Our bags are in the trunk.”
“Poppy, Poppy!” The signora scrambled after her.
Poppy was already moving to the door of the vehicle. “Don’t you see? He’ll kill you, Penny. This way, Brady and I stay together.” Her fingers closed around the handle. “Don’t breathe a word of this to Brady. Act like it was the plan all along. Please.”
She slid her gaze from the queen of the Italian mob to me.
That please….
She was fighting hard to stay calm for the child’s sake.
I gave her a tight nod.
A blistering smile lit her face as she opened the door and began to chat with the boy. Penelope fumed by her side, but the decision was made.
It was the right one. Furthermore, Poppy would solve the problem of how to care for a child. I didn’t trust a nanny after my son was stolen once before. She knew his likes and dislikes. She would be a good asset.
Plus, this way I could have her around too.
The sweet little mountain flower would make my home brighter with her presence. I could spend my days looking. Watching. And maybe, when her ire cooled, I could touch.
That thought eased the knot of tension in my shoulders. I hauled the three suitcases to my truck and flung them in the bed.
“If you harm a hair on either of their heads, I will destroy you,” Mancini growled, keeping his voice low for my ears only.
I tipped my head to the side, sending him a full glare. “And if you meddle in business that isn’t yours, I’ll make you regret that decision a thousand times over.”
Instead of a business partner and an ally, I now had an enemy in the powerful don.
A pity. He was good for our organization.
But we didn’t need him. We could survive without the posh don’s aid.
“Put his car seat in the truck,” Poppy instructed, her gaze pinned on me.
Brady had his chubby hands wrapped around her throat, sleepy eyes surveying the scene.
My fingers itched to grab him, to rip him from her hold. He was mine.
And yet, the boy wouldn’t like that.
“He doesn’t need that,” I huffed. My bones were restless. The sooner we were out of this area and back in the safety of our home, the better.
Poppy let out a scornful laugh. “Parenting tip number one. Car seats are very, very important.”
I considered telling her that the few times I rode in a vehicle as a child, there was no seatbelt. No airbags. Sometimes the door didn’t latch. We bounced around in an ancient machine, going too fast down mountain roads.
But this wasn’t a fight I wanted to pick with her.
Muttering, I took the seat. It was attached to U-shaped rings in the SUV. My fingers were almost too big to unhook it. I managed after the third try.
I wasn’t stupid enough to turn my back to the Italians.
Which made the work of transferring the seat all the more difficult.
There were metal rings between the truck back and seat, shoved deep in the cushions.
Just like in the SUV. Who knew? I felt for them.
The first clip angled in, flipped over, and attached.
Easy. When I pulled the strap through the base of the car seat, it came up short.
I gave it more slack, frowning. It should be the same as when it was hooked in the SUV just now.
But somehow the strap had shrunk. Or tangled internally.
Setting my jaw tight, I leaned into the truck, aware of the men behind me, their guns hidden for the moment for the child’s sake.
I tugged and finagled. The strap wouldn’t budge.
Who the hell made these seats? They were stupid and should be shot.
“Fuck,” I hissed.
“Here, let me,” Poppy snapped.
She nudged me aside, placing Brady on the backseat floor of the truck.
I stood back, noting how easily she’d placed the child in the clutches of a monster.
Her slim hand reached into the back of the car seat.
The strap fell slack, extended, and she flicked the metal clip into the truck’s hook in seconds.
Clearly, she’d done this before.
Right then and there I made a mental promise to learn everything there was about child safety seats in vehicles. This was not going to happen again. I didn’t like feeling incompetent, especially not in front of her.
“Alright, Brady, climb up,” she said with a forced smile.
“Mama, it smells in here,” he whispered, the sound loud enough to carry.
Poppy hummed under her breath. “Yes, but we don’t make comments like that. It’s not polite.”
“Okay.” He hopped into his seat.
Poppy worked the straps around his body, buckling him in and pulling them snug. He wriggled in protest, but she was already climbing into the back beside him.
“I’ll call you!” she called to the signora right as I closed the door.
Penelope stood next to her husband, staring at me. That glare would have made a lesser man uncomfortable.
Don Mancini and I shared a look. No words were spoken. They weren’t needed.
His promised that this wasn’t over.
Mine dared him to stop me.
Only once the cavalcade of my men was safely down the drive and onto the road did I relax into my seat. No one else had left their vehicles. There hadn’t been any shots fired. That alone was a success.
Rayko, my most trusted soldier and the man who’d followed me from the Old World, sped through a yellow light. And just like that, we were safe. I leaned over to watch my son play with a toy animal. He didn’t seem at all perturbed that he was in a strange vehicle. He was calm, sleepy, but content.
The ball of fire next to him shot daggers at me with a hard look. Poppy was still hiding her unease behind anger. I found myself enjoying the sight of her already, especially since she wasn’t tiptoeing around me for the moment.
“So…you’re a mafia princess?” I drawled, meeting her accusatory glare.
Poppy let out a hiss of warning between her teeth. “I have a history, yes.”
I arched a brow. “And?”
Her lips pursed. “It’s not up for discussion.”
I chuckled. There would be time in the future for her to sing her sweet song. To tell me her secrets. I would enjoy plucking them from her, one by one.
“My house is yours,” I offered. “Whatever you need, you can have. And if something is missing, I’ll provide it.”
“How generous,” she quipped.
I bristled. “It is.”
Poppy looked quickly to the ceiling before squeezing her eyes shut and turning her face out the window. She didn’t want the boy to see her emotions. Her strength for his sake was admirable.
“Give me your phone,” I pressed, holding out my hand.
“I don’t have one,” the boy promptly responded. “Mama says doom scrolling rots the brain. I can’t have one till I’m this big.”
He held up ten fingers and a foot.
I frowned at the blue sneaker with a cartoon dalmatian on it. Why did he do that?
“Is that necessary?” Poppy snapped. “Who am I going to call?”
“A woman such as yourself, properly motivated, would go to the ends of the earth. Forgive me, but I’m not in the mood for any surprises,” I said coolly.
Poppy reached into the back pocket of her jeans. Her fingers trembled as she handed over the device.
“The code is 7112,” the boy added helpfully.
Poppy swallowed hard.
“Thank you, son.”
“Welcome!” He didn’t respond to the endearment but continued to fly his toy through the air and make animal growls.
I didn’t like that. Didn’t like it one bit.
He didn’t recognize me.
If I wasn’t sleep deprived and coming down from an adrenaline high, logic might have told me it was natural he didn’t immediately know our connection.
But the delirious part of me wanted him to.
“Is there anyone from your old life who will look for you?” I demanded.
Poppy let out a scornful laugh. The pungent bitterness slapped me. “Of course, they’ll wonder where we are.”
“You need to message them that your plans have changed,” I warned. “We’ll do that later. Together.”
“Since they’re expecting me on the plane, why wait?” she countered.
Reluctantly, I handed back the phone. “No funny business.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She tapped on the screen, her fingers flying to communicate a message. Wisely, she held it up before pressing send.
To a man named Theo.
A knot tightened in my gut. I remembered Brady mentioning the name in several of his stories. But I hadn’t been paying enough attention and didn’t remember the connection.
“Send it,” I instructed.
She did, and I snatched the phone away before she could do anything else. I began to scroll through her previous messages. A yellow app with a ghost lit up, the username the same as the man she’d texted. I clicked it, and it was an image of three cats sitting in the window.
They’re waiting for you guys!
I closed out of the app and shut the screen off.
This woman had a life, and by the looks of it a man.
Yet when the situation turned against her, she cast it off so easily.
Suspicions churned inside me. Did she only come with the boy because she expected to be rescued?
That wasn’t fucking happening. No, she chose this. She chose my life.
It might take weeks, maybe months, but soon she would realize she belonged to me now. No knight on a fiery steed was rushing in to save her. The maiden was in the lair of the monster now, and I would be damned if I let anyone think they could steal from me.