Chapter 39 – Ivan
Mancini: I have a present for you.
Me: Is it something I want?
Mancini: I’m bringing it to your den. If you’d rather I cut its throat and throw it in the lake, tell me now.
Me: I’m on my way.
The skin of her ear was delicious. Soft and smooth, it curved into the perfect shell. I brushed my nose down the length, rubbing the lobe once…twice.
“I’ll be back soon,” I promised.
I should have known better. She was a light sleeper.
Poppy sat up with a sharp inhale. “What’s going on? Ivan!”
I grinned, pulling her naked body into my arms. “Hush, flower, it’s alright.”
Poppy dropped her head against my shoulder. Ebasi. I could stay here, lose days and nights with her cradled close. Who needed sleep—or food—when there was this stunning creature in my arms?
Unfortunately….
“I have to run to Noshtuvka for an hour or two.” I squeezed her close. “I’ll be back by dawn.”
“What the heck? What time is it even?” She craned her neck, staring into the dark. “We just fell asleep.”
“Two hours ago,” I chuckled.
Poppy ran her hand up my bandaged arm and down my back. “You really have to go?”
Resolve steeled inside me. “I do.”
Something in my voice made her hand still. “What happened?”
I debated hiding the truth. But she had as much stake in this matter as I did.
And now that we were married in my eyes, everything was tied between us.
“Steve Dallas is there,” I said simply.
Telling her what lay in store for the man, how tonight was his last on earth, was something I couldn’t voice. She’d decided to stay. She was back in the underworld of her own free choice. But that didn’t mean I had to share the gruesome details. That, at least, I could spare her from knowing.
Clever girl that she was, Poppy already knew. She stiffened, sitting up straight. Though it was dark in the bedroom, her gaze found mine.
“I’m coming.”
I opened my mouth, but she shook her head. I felt more than saw the reaction.
“I’m coming, Ivan. He crossed a line, and I have every right to be there.” Her tone was final. She scooted out of my hold. I let her go. “Can someone come stay with Brady?”
“Of course,” I murmured.
Poppy hissed. Parts of her body thumped on the floor. I was pretty sure she also smacked into the wall.
“Remind me to move some of my clothes in here,” she muttered.
I leaned back on the bed, watching her through the gloom. “Why wouldn’t you move all your things in here?”
She paused.
She remembered.
“Oh, yeah,” she said in a breathless laugh. “I guess that’s the next step.”
It was.
“First thing in the morning,” I said, rising and turning on the lamp. “Go to the bathroom, and I’ll bring some clothes for you.”
Poppy pointed a finger at me. “No dresses.”
I smirked. That was exactly what I had in mind.
“It’s not that kind of night,” she added, and I sobered.
She was right. Of course she was.
By the time she changed and was ready, Kiril pushed through the back door.
He gave me a cold smile, but the lethal quality was lost when he yawned.
“We just got the baby to sleep,” he sighed.
Poppy patted his sleeve as she passed. I bore my teeth, and my soldier winced. Poppy rolled her eyes and held open the back door.
“Get over it, Ivan. He reminds me of my cousin Theo.” And to Kiril, she said, “We owe you and Katerina a few nights of baby duty. Starting tonight, okay?”
Kiril fought another yawn as he nodded.
We were out of the house and in the car moments later. Poppy sank back into the seat, her hand absently rubbing along the seatbelt that crossed her stomach.
“I don’t babysit,” I grumped, backing into the alley and then pulling onto the street.
She snorted. “Think of it as an investment. We put in time now, and when it’s our turn, they’ll be there for us.”
Our turn.
I reached over, caught her hand, and pressed it along her belly. “I’ll be the one taking care of our child, Poppy.”
She gave me an amused look. “Babies are a lot of work.”
I shook my head and accelerated. “I wasn’t there the last time. It’s on me now.”
“If you say so.” She chuckled.
Clearly, she wasn’t convinced. It didn’t matter. When the time came that a baby cried the whole night, she would see that I was tireless. If it took walking or rocking, I would put in the hours. The baby would be ours—and I was going to be there for every last part.
As the lights of Nosktuvka twinkled at the end of the street, Poppy shook off whatever thoughts occupied her mind. She stiffened, a determined look falling over her face.
“Won’t there be witnesses? Isn’t it risky doing business here?” She bit her lip.
I pulled around back, parking alongside the building. “The club closed early.”
“Oh.” Her voice was small.
Ebasi! She wasn’t ready for this. What was I thinking?
But there was no holding her back. She didn’t wait for me to be a gentleman and open her door. Head held high, she marched to the entrance.
I hung back for a moment, entranced.
“What?” she snapped, hiding her fidgeting hands at her side.
A half smile played on my lips. “You look like you belong.”
Her eye roll sent a bolt of heat to my groin. Fuck me, I wanted her again. The idea of pinning her against the wall and daring her to roll her eyes again was intoxicating.
I shoved the plans I had to the back of my mind, opened the door, and resolved to finish this business quickly. I didn’t have to snatch her hand as she passed.
Poppy slid her fingers into mine and drew me along with her as she entered the building.
A few dozen Italians milled about, keeping their distance from my men. Only in the VIP area did the select few mingle. Rayko, looking worse for wear, stood talking quietly to Don Mancini and his enforcer.
Kneeling in front of them was the filth who’d raised a hand against my son. His hands were bound behind his back. One eye was already swollen and closed. Duct tape silenced his lips. The man was breathing hard, and I could already smell the piss as we glided past.
Poppy didn’t falter as I led her to the throne.
“It seems the pizza boys have already had a bit of fun with you,” I commented, sinking into my chair.
Poppy sat down on my knee. The feel of her round ass on my thigh was distracting—in the best way. She folded her hands on her lap and watched.
“Since this is a family matter,” Mancini said coldly, “I took my pound of flesh.”
I nodded. “As you should.”
The don looked between Poppy and me. There was a glint in his eye, but it was gone when he turned back to the scum and gave the commissioner a kick in the back.
The fucker whimpered as he fell forward.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I asked pleasantly. “Let the games begin.”
The crowd moved as a mass to center their focus on the action.
Many of them still swayed. They’d had dozens of bottles of rakia, and since it was homemade, that shit was as strong as any moonshine.
But the copious amounts of alcohol only brought out the animal nature of my men to its full strength.
Wild men, like the berserkers of the northern lands, they were ready to fall on the commissioner with their bare hands, tearing him apart piece by piece.
With one crutch propped under his arm, Rayko reached down and pulled Dallas up by the back of his shirt. The tape tore from his mouth was a vicious rip. A knife slid through the bindings on the wrists a second later.
Shying away from my soldier, the commissioner rubbed his wrists. His one good eye darted about, assessing. Searching. But there was no escape.
“Do you understand why you’re here?” I cocked my head. The crowd demanded a show, and it was one of my favorite things to provide it. If the proceedings became too intense, I would pause them to whisk her away before we finished. But she was here, not hiding from what I was.
It feels like she belongs.
“Because I wouldn’t build your stupid shopping mall,” the commissioner garbled.
I loved it when they tried to be brave.
It made breaking them all the more fun.
“No,” Poppy snapped. “You struck my son.”
The commissioners face scrunched in wrath. It was comical with half his features swollen and bruised. It probably hurt like a bitch, too.
“Seriously? The brat put cuffs on me!”
Poppy unclasped her hands and pushed them into her thighs, leaning forward. “He might have been out of line, but it was a child’s prank. You crossed an entirely different line when you made it an adult situation.”
An infectious joy spread through my chest, hot and bright. I couldn’t be more proud of my wife.
“Rayko,” I mused. “Is that a class ring on his left hand?”
My second smiled. It was a cold, lifeless grin. “Sure is, boss. A fancy college token.”
I tapped my fingers against the arm rests of the high back chair. “I like rings. Bring it to me.”
The soldiers chuckled, and a few let out whoops of delight. Poppy frowned and shot a confused look down at me.
I didn’t meet her gaze. What was the fun in giving away the punchline while the familiar scene was playing out?
With a brutal tug, Rayko pulled the ring off.
Breaking the commissioner’s finger in the process.
To the backdrop of his yowls, my second knelt on his good leg and extended the token.
I leaned forward, catching my wife with an arm as I examined the trophy. “Nah, it isn’t that pretty.”
“It’s gold, boss.” Rayko let out a hollow chuckle.
I hummed. “Still, put it back.”
The commissioner tried to scoot away, clutching his hand to his chest. The don’s enforcer stepped behind him, blocking his path.
The man—his name escaped me, even though we’d faced off once in the bowels of the club—gripped the commissioner by the throat.
The crook of his elbow snagged around the scum’s windpipe, and the enforcer lifted him, cutting off airflow.
Rayko limped over, took Dallas’s hand, and slammed the ring back on the broken digit.
Tears leaked from the commissioner’s eyes as the fresh burst of pain consumed him. He might have screamed if his voice wasn’t cut off.
“Wait!” I called out. “I like it.”
The crowd roared with laughter.