Chapter 14 – Ivan
Mancini: Update.
Me: Fuck off.
Mancini: Update. Or I’m marching on your house.
Me: I do not respond well to threats.
Penelope: Please, Ivan.
Me: Poppy made another batch of cookies. Brady is obsessed with basketball.
Penelope: Thank you.
Penelope: I miss them.
I pulled the band from my hair, shaking my head like a dog.
Blood and sweat sprayed on the already stained mat.
The canvas displayed a garish Rorschach design, fanning from edge to edge, with spirals curling into a mass in the center.
Stooping, I wiped the knife across the unconscious man’s chest. I’d been uncharacteristically merciful tonight. He was still breathing.
The drone of the crowd filled three of the edges. It followed me with unrelenting noise as I walked purposely to the fourth, where only one individual stood waiting.
“He’s lucky,” Rayko spat and pushed himself from the wall.
I worked my jaw back and forth. There would be a bruise there tomorrow.
Hristo will see.
Gingerly, I touched the spot. How would my son react? Would it scare him? It was probable that his mother shielded him from violence.
Time to change that.
But…how?
Flickers of my own childhood played like a silent film strip in my mind. Fuck. I’d had no choice. It was fight or die. And now only the most insane men dared to challenge me. Maybe some martial arts. He could learn skills, be introduced to violence, but in a safe and regulated environment.
Huh. That wasn’t such a bad idea. Looks like I had pieces of this parenting thing down already.
“Update?” I clipped out.
Rayko stretched, swinging his left arm to loosen the shoulder. He’d had his own beating earlier in a sparring session, but the fox never complained. Just adopted shrewder and more crafty manners of attacking me.
“Georgi said the house is still dark. No movement. Boris hasn’t seen anything out back, either.”
Good. My little flower learned her lesson, it seemed.
“Is everything set for the game tomorrow?” I pushed into the back room, where I wrenched a towel from the back of my chair. Papers littered the desk, documents detailing the stalled demolition of the Redwood Plaza, and no loophole in sight for its rebuild.
All because I couldn’t navigate the business world as well as Don Alessandro Mancini. He would have had the commissioner in his pocket by now. I was still leaving messages with the commissioner’s secretary.
“It is.” Rayko closed the door, sealing away the buzz of the tiresome insects. “We found a replacement since Mancini won’t be joining us.”
Not only had the don made my business come to a screeching halt, but he insulted me by refusing to attend the high stakes poker match.
Fuck him. I didn’t need him.
I tipped back a bottle of water and chugged the whole thing. Crinkling the plastic bottle, I tossed it into the wastebasket. It bounced off the edge, mocking me, and clattered to the floor.
“Boss.”
I shot my second a look. “What is it?”
“The woman. She’s a…liability.”
I scoffed.
“Why haven’t you done anything with her?” Rayko pressed. “She could go to the police if we aren’t careful.”
Without thinking, I tightened the grip on my knife and shifted. Rayko sensed the defensive stance and quickly moved to one of his own.
“She’s my problem. Understood?”
Rayko nodded slowly. “I’m not saying kill her. You would have done that already. But she needs to be silenced—”
“No buts.” I took a step forward, shifting the knife to my other hand. I lifted a threatening finger to his face. “I mean it.”
No other man would dare question me. Rayko had been through the trenches with me. We’d bled together. Each of us had taken more than one bullet for the other. But when it came to the beautiful Italian flower, he was out of line.
“There’s a way to make it hard for her to testify. That’s what I’m trying to get at,” Rayko said softly. His sharp gaze never left mine, but he was more than aware of the knife that was now within swinging distance. “Have you considered it?”
I narrowed my gaze. “What do you mean?”
Dark glee twinkled in his eyes. “Make it in her best interest to stand at your side.”
Straight from the black depths of his eyes, the giddy feeling reached out and spread through my veins. Bind her to me. Why the fuck hadn’t I thought of that?
“Fuck, brother, you’re right.” I itched my chin with the tip of the knife. The rough scrape was audible in the sepulchral stillness of the room. “Every kingdom needs a queen.”
“Indeed,” Rayko said dryly. He didn’t relax until I did. “Just don’t ask me to be the best man.”
Plans formed in my mind. By the time I crept through the back door, a solid course of action was clear. The scent of meat greeted me, instantly making my stomach growl.
There she stood on the tips of her toes, reaching high into the corner cupboard. The loose tee rose up, revealing a slip of skin.
Heat coiled tight inside me. My shaft tightened, and my balls grew heavy.
Fuck me—that was all mine.
She just didn’t know it yet.
She should. I brought her here. But if my men needed proof, she probably did too.
I whispered up behind her, not touching but caging her against the counter. I plucked the bowl she was fumbling for and set it down beside her. Her squeak of surprise was pure music.
What other sounds do you make, my little flower?
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her. But I smiled instead.
“Good morning, Poppy. Sleep well?”
Despite her home remedies, she’d healed over the last few days. Such a strong woman. Classically beautiful, with a heart and soul that matched.
I couldn’t wait to bind her to my side, make her a loyal subject of this world.
My gaze dropped to her hips. Strong indeed.
“You scared me,” she gasped.
I could reach out, splay my fingers over the curves. What would it be like to see her swollen with my child? Fuck, the picture was damn near real.
“What are you making this morning?” I coaxed, fighting the urge to touch.
Poppy swallowed hard. She looked past me to the living room where the sound of a battle seemed to be taking place. Hristo hadn’t heard me yet, otherwise my boy would be here, interrupting the sweltering moment.
“Pancakes and bacon,” Poppy said after a moment.
“Hmm….” I reached out and swiped the pad of my thumb over the corner of her mouth. The contact was a spark. Such a little thing, but it had my insides buzzing. “Sampling the batter?”
Her cheeks did that beautiful thing where they pinkened. She’d seemed like such a timid little thing when I first met her. But over the course of her living here, seeing the true beauty beneath the surface, I realized it was a mistake to hold such preconceptions.
“Take a nap today,” I instructed her, wanting to get this out before we were interrupted.
Poppy frowned, embarrassment forgotten.
I loved watching the emotions and thoughts play out on her face. Just to see it change again, I stuck my thumb in my mouth.
And sucked.
This time her gasp was electric.
“Wait! Why am I taking a nap?” She fought to stay focused.
“Because I require you tonight.”
Her eyes darted between my thumb and my gaze. “Oh, no!” She shoved past me, going to the stove. “Let’s get this straight right now, mister. I’m not doing anything with you. We might be stuck in some weird coparenting situation, but that is it. That’s where I draw the line.”
Hiding my amusement, I turned and leaned back against the island. “I’m not asking you to bed.” Yet. “I’m taking you to a poker match.”
Poppy’s eyes bulged. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a card game,” I teased. “Bets are placed. Large amounts of money exchange hands. Are you not familiar with it?”
Poppy waved the spatula around. “I know what poker is, dummy, I just have no idea why you would think staying out late and playing cards sounds like something I would do?”
I cocked my head. “What’s your idea of a perfect night?”
Letting out an exasperated breath, Poppy poked at the pan. “Sitting down with a good book.”
Of course it was.
I would have to calculate that into my plans somehow.
But later.
“I’ll have a dress for you. Rayko will stay and watch cartoons with Brady. I’ll be here at eight to pick you up.”
“Brady needs to be asleep before then!” she protested.
As if on cue, the boy sprinted into the room. “Tatko!”
The steady thwump-thwump of my heart sent a bolt of warmth through my veins. I only just met this boy, but somehow, my heart had known him all along.
“Ivan,” Poppy warned. “I’m not going. You heard me say that, right?”
“Be ready at eight,” I repeated and gave her a steady look before striding into the living room. I would give her a minute to collect herself before we sat down to eat. If my pancake was a little burnt, I would eat it without complaint.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t. This woman was a damn fine cook.