Chapter 32
“Yaroslav, answer your fucking phone,” I say to his voicemail. “I have your fucking money.”
What man doesn’t answer his phone for half a million dollars?
Yaroslav is usually known for easy contact and taking calls. If he doesn’t have his phone, one of his men does, and they immediately hand it over to him.
The fucker doesn’t like missing deals.
Fire burns through my veins as I slide my phone into my pocket and stare through the Escalade windshield at the Moro Bowling Alley.
I’m not a man who takes kindly to being ignored.
If he doesn’t want to answer my calls, then I’ll go to his place of business and shove my fucking phone down his throat.
His bowling alley sits on a desolate road, surrounded by failing businesses with similar Russian names. I’d bet my Escalade they don’t make a dime, and the businesses are simply there to launder dirty money through.
I crack the tension in my neck, grab my Glock from the glove compartment, and stroll through the nearly empty parking lot and into the building.
It reeks of cigarettes and stale pizza. A group of senior citizen bowlers are in one of the eight lanes.
A young guy is slouched forward on the front counter, focused on his phone, not even noticing my presence.
He doesn’t look up from his phone until I’m directly in front of him and fisting his shirt. He grunts, dropping his phone.
With my free hand, I press my Glock against his forehead. “Get me Yaroslav.”
He attempts to pull away, but I apply more pressure with the Glock.
“He’s not …” The guy holds up his arms, stumbling back, and trips against the stool, all while still in my hold. “He’s not here.”
“Where is he?” I ask, spitting in his face.
“I don’t know, man,” he squeaks out. “I only work here part-time.”
He’s a fucking liar.
Yaroslav wouldn’t have any run-of-the-mill part-timer working here.
I release the guy, pushing him backward, noticing a camera in the corner. With my Glock still pointed at the guy’s forehead, I raise my middle finger to the camera.
“Yaroslav never comes here,” the guy goes on. “His wife runs this place.”
I jerk back, lowering my Glock, and he bends at the waist, catching his breath.
“Tell whoever the fuck will get the message to Yaroslav that he needs to call Julian before I set this fucking place on fire.”
I hoped for a better ending for this trip.
I need to get Yaroslav his fucking money, so I don’t have to worry about him or his fucking son again. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough time to tear the entire bowling alley to shreds. I have to get back to Genesis for her father’s service.
We’re burying the asshole that’s Carlisle Astor today.
A fucking headache, if you ask me. I’d prefer to throw him in a hole and let him rot, but Genesis wants a service.
Like with everything lately, Genesis gets what Genesis wants.
Pleasing her seems to be the theme of my life lately.
Since I have a little time to kill and want to send a message, I snatch a bowling ball and throw it through the large window.
The glass shatters, but I don’t take a second to admire the damage before grabbing another ball.
I keep my grip in the three finger holes and hurl it behind the counter.
The guy ducks, the ball only missing his head by seconds.
Damn.
I always thought I had good aim.
My nerves skyrocket as I charge out of the bowling alley.
Regret settles inside me like a heavy weight.
I should’ve paid Yaroslav the million at the beginning and got this over with.
Instead, I chose to play games, and now, I’m paying for it.
But with how stubborn Genesis was, I was worried she wouldn’t go with my plan if there was nothing for her to lose.
I slam my fist against the steering wheel when I’m back in the Escalade.
If Yaroslav doesn’t call me back soon, I’ll consider the contract null and void and then drag Genesis to the altar and marry her.
Genesis is dressed in a black dress and heels when I return to the house.
All I hear is the click of her heels as she paces the kitchen in front of the island.
“I can’t believe my mom isn’t at least coming home for his funeral,” she says, throwing her arms up. “She and my father were married for thirty years, and that’s how she treats him? Like he didn’t even matter to her.”
Lowering her head, she stops pacing and sniffles.
I hold back the urge to tell her she shouldn’t give a shit about her mother.
I also have to refrain from saying fuck her mother and dead-ass father.
She doesn’t need anything from them.
She needs someone who cares.
Me .
I’ll protect her at all costs.
It’s what Melissa and my mother would’ve wanted.
If Genesis needs someone to hold her hand as she grieves, I’ll hold it tight.
Sit by her side for as long as she needs.
Like me, she has no one.
We’re two broken souls.
“You ready?” I ask.
She raises her head, her sorrowful eyes hitting mine. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Her shoulders slump as she walks toward me.
Grabbing her hand, I walk her to the Escalade, open the door for her, and wait until she’s buckled in before slipping into the driver’s side.
She’s quiet during the short drive to the funeral home.
We kept the service details private, not wanting to deal with protestors or trouble. If Carlisle wasn’t rotting in a casket at the moment, he’d have plenty of death threats against him.
No one likes selfish fuckers who steal their money, good person or not. People lost their entire life savings because of him.
A few cars are in the parking lot. I asked Darcy, Pippa, and Gigi to come so Genesis wouldn’t feel so alone.
I’m happy they’re here, giving her support.
When we walk into the funeral home, there’s a picture of Carlisle in the lobby. I guess the coroner didn’t go with my suggestion of putting Satan’s fucking picture there.
I made most of the funeral plans, and there were multiple reasons I chose a closed casket.
Carlisle shot himself in the head. No matter how good the mortician, it’s hard to cover that shit up.
Second, I saw how horrified Genesis was at her dad’s dead body in the office. I didn’t want her to feel that same pain again.
And last, I knew it’d give me the temptation to shoot him in the head because I never got the chance to. The fucker deserves a bullet from me after what he did to Genesis.
The room is eerily quiet, with the exception of Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” playing through the speakers. The same picture that’s in the lobby is displayed on an easel beside the black casket.
The women are inside the room, seated in the second row, with Damien and Antonio in the row behind them. As soon as they notice Genesis and me, they jump up from the chairs and rush toward her.
Darcy hugs her first, apologizing for being gone for too long.
Pippa wraps her in her arms tight, telling her she’s sorry for her loss.
When it’s Gigi’s turn, she simply plants a soft kiss on her cheek.
Surprisingly, I haven’t seen Genesis cry once today.
She’s sniffled a few times, but that’s it.
It’s so different from my family’s funeral.
She bawled in the front row, sobbing, with red eyes and a handful of tissues.
Genesis sits in the front row, and I take the seat beside her as the priest enters the room.
He doesn’t speak long, just goes on with his speech about Carlisle making his gateway to heaven, to which I have to hold myself back from correcting him to say that it was a fast track straight to motherfucking hell.
When he asks if anyone would like to say a word, no one volunteers. He apologizes for our loss once more before leaving the same way he came in.
This is the shortest funeral I’ve ever gone to.
And I’ve attended plenty.
I wish I could say I hadn’t since my family’s, but unfortunately, there have been so many that I’ve lost count.
Death will always be inevitable.
One day, all of us will die.
In this life, the men die younger.
There’s one in ten odds of us living until we’re gray and old.
As I peer over at Genesis, who hasn’t said a word since we sat, a thick reality hits me.
I want to beat those odds.
Want to be that one man out of ten.
I want to live for her.
For us. For our future .
“Hey, Lora,” I say, knocking on her office door. “Do you have a moment?”
When I asked Genesis what she wanted to do after her father’s funeral, she told me she scheduled herself to teach at Safe Hearts. She instructed me to take her home to change, and then we made a pit stop at Brew Delights for her favorite coffee and a croissant.
Like me with the casino, Safe Hearts is her safe space.
Her escape.
Where she can go and not think about her problems.
I respect that, but I also wish she’d find another escape .
Ideally, a room in our home.
She can pick up any damn hobby, just do it at fucking home so I don’t have to play chaperone all the damn time.
Normally, I’d hassle her about coming to the shelter, especially when she’s done more than the agreed-upon days in our contract, but today, I’ll give her a pass.
That still doesn’t make me happy about it.
She’s putting herself in danger every time she’s at the shelter.
Not only from possible enemies of mine but also from people who want to hurt another woman here. Genesis knows this though. She’s been aware that the shelter is dangerous for years, but it’s never stopped her from coming here.
She once told me she’d rather die for a good cause than act like it didn’t exist.
I join Lora in her office, and she gestures for me to shut the door if I’d like.
I do but hesitate to sit when she motions for me to do that next.
I’m typically a stander, especially when in other people’s offices, but I don’t want to seem threatening, so I take a seat in the uncomfortable chair that was most likely made before the damn Trojan War started.
It creaks as I adjust myself in the seat, and I hope I don’t break it.
I rest my arm on the chair. “I’d like to fund additional security here.”
Call it funding, a donation—I don’t give a shit.
Concern floods her tired face. “Is there a reason we’d need additional security?”
I shake my head, trying my best to put her at ease. “I’m sure you’re aware of what Genesis’s father did. She’s received death threats, and I want to make sure she’s as safe as possible.”
It’s somewhat true.
She received three death threats.
I returned those threats to the men who’d sent them by putting bullets in their heads.
Lora adjusts her sleeves, tugging on one, thinking.
“I’ll set up everything,” I go on, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I’d just hate for Genesis to have to leave here because she doesn’t feel safe.” I shake my head in fake disappointment. “It’d just break her poor heart.” I place my hand against my chest. “ Everyone’s heart.”
“Oh … all right,” Lora says. “We’ll need to provide background checks on everyone.”
“Not a problem.”
“If you can get female security, that’d be best. It’d make the women feel more comfortable.”
“Background check. Females. Keep everyone protected.” I stand, salute, and then wink at Lora. “I got it covered.”
After leaving her office, I check to make sure Genesis is still in class and then retreat outside to call Yaroslav again.
Voicemail.
“Yaroslav, you have two fucking days ,” I say, then end the call.