Chapter 9 - Mark
“Treasures are valuable. When you find one, keep it.” – Anonymous.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
I swirled the vodka in my glass and stared at the unfortunate bald man on stage as if he were the cause of my irritation. “I know irony when I hear it, Viktor. And isn’t it sad that everyone is cheering for this idiot as if he could sing?”
“At least, he’s better than the previous one. Shit, I thought my ears were going to bleed,” Damien scoffed, and it forced a laugh out of me.
Viktor threw his head back, gulped a mouthful of beer, and dropped the glass with a satisfied hiss. He faced me. “It’s what they’re paid to do; entertain the crowd. While we earn more and grow our network by being here. But someone is being fucking anti-social.”
I sipped from my glass. “Someone? Are you talking about me?”
“Because you know you and your brother are nothing alike, it’s definitely you.”
“I doubt it. Look at me, working the crowd, like I don’t give a shit.” I wiggled my brows and my brother laughed.
Victor was not wrong. Taking part in the event was not just for fun. We also had to work. Some business had to be done, but I was distracted, and Damien got the lion”s share.
“You sure you don’t want to share? We could have a heart-to-heart.”
Damien choked on his brandy and my lips crooked.
Viktor wasn’t going to stop pushing it until I cracked and spilled. But I wasn’t ready to talk about my current thorn in the ass. I eyed him from over the rim of my glass.
“Yeah, we could. Let’s start with this, though: How’s your wife?”
“You have a serious sense of humor.” He muttered in Russian, rubbed the back of his neck and before he averted his eyes, I noticed the flare of annoyance.
I had indirectly told him to mind his own damn business, and I had used his wife to do it.
If my brother Damien had not been present, I would have bet a thousand bucks that Viktor would already have a fist in my face. And I would have greeted it with joy. Maybe a fight was just what I needed to get rid of all the fucking tension and anger inside me.
Damien took the cue to launch himself fully into the conversation before Viktor let his fist fly. He dusted a piece of lint off his shiny black jacket and sat forward.
“He’s right, you know? You have to stop deflecting. We’ve been here for two hours, and you’ve been sitting like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”
I poured myself another glass of vodka.
“Two hours, thirteen minutes.” I lifted the glass to my lips. “And he’s bigger than a fucking stick.”
“Who?”
I shrugged. “Mercer.”
“What?”
They moved to the edge of their seats; all humor was gone. Damien’s eyes hardened and narrowed. “You found Logan?”
“Yeah. Last week, in Chicago.”
“Roman mentioned that you have visited him, but didn’t disclose why,” my brother said. He scratched his brow and slammed his fist on the table. “Fuck, I can’t believe he’s back.”
My brother’s anger was one reason I wasn’t ready to talk about Logan yet. If Roman or Damien had gotten their hands on him first, I would have heard his murder story on the news. But Logan was my business to take care of, I gave Irina my word.
If anyone were going to put a bullet in his head, it would be me.
He was at the top of Bratva”s list of enemies. After he broke Irina’s heart and disappeared from the scene like the coward he was, we swore to make him pay, to make him suffer for what he had done.
I drank from my glass and set it aside. “You”d better believe it. I saw the bastard and was glad I finally had the chance to punch him in the fucking face. But he’s not as stupid as we think. Even after all that, he got away.”
Viktor made an eye roll and murmured, “Great. So, we’re going on a hunt now?”
“Not exactly.”
Damien rose a brow. “You have a plan?”
I smiled. “When do I ever not have a plan?”
Colorful lights in the halls flashed above our table as another artist took the stage. This time it was a woman with long brown hair, dimples, and a voice that seemed like an antidote to the catastrophe that had occurred before her. As she sang the slow remix of a familiar song, memories of Addison standing at the sink humming came flooding back. And how her voice pierced the depths of my soul, like light piercing the darkness.
“Mark?”
I heard my name as if it were being called from a deep canyon.
But all I remembered were her sighs in my ears and her taut nipples rubbing against my chest through her thin bra. At that moment, as we were pressed together in front of the mirrors, I could barely cling to the thinnest thread of self-control.
I wanted to slam inside her, shatter every fucking glass if I had to, and fuck her hard and raw the way my cock ached to. She messed with my common sense and left me even more tense than I already was when I saw her in each of those fucking dresses.
Except for that fucking Chinese dress. It did nothing for her figure, and that’s why I liked it.
It served as the perfect distraction, taking my eyes off her beauty. Until I barged into the changeroom and saw her standing there in nothing but fucking underwear.
More and more images buzzed around in my head, and I felt the swelling in my pants. The perfect curve of her ass cheeks in my hands, the softness of her lips, her blazing amber eyes, and the tenderness in her voice as she called my name.
“Dammit, Mark!”
“What?” I didn’t hide my irritation, snapping out from reverie.
“What’s the plan, genius?” My brother gesticulated with his hands, “To catch Logan Mercer?”
I looked up to meet their gaze. “I have his fiancée. Archie Mason’s daughter, Addison. I’m sure he”ll be back soon. Fuck the hunt. I want that asshole to come crawling to me, begging me to spare his miserable life.”
“It’s been a week now,” Viktor pointed out.
“And?”
Damien frowned. “Mark, Mercer hasn’t returned for the girl. What if he’s not so serious about her, what then? You stand a chance of losing him again.”
“That won’t happen.”
Viktor rolled his eyes and took his glass to his lips. “I admire your confidence.”
“You should because I will do something that will make him fly back in a flash.”
They didn’t bother asking. The interest in their eyes conveyed their expectations for a reasonable answer.
“I’m going to marry her.”
Viktor choked on his drink and the heat in Damien’s gaze simmered. Now, he looked amused.
“That’s fucking absurd,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Why would you go to that extent to get him back here?”
Simple.
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” I pointed at Viktor, who had a crazy smile on his lips. “If any man even dared to look at Ava for too long, you would pluck his eyes out in seconds.”
He nodded. “Fuck, yeah.”
“Same.” I crossed one leg over the other. “If Logan truly cares about her and hears that she’s going to get married to someone else, he’s going to show himself.”
“And if he doesn’t? What then?” Damien questioned.
I grinned. “What do you mean by ‘what then?’ Last time I checked, the clock was ticking. And I’ve reached the golden age.”
Viktor coughed into his hand. “Fifty is the golden age.”
“And you’re not fifty,” Damien added with a quirked brow.
“No, I’m not. But, as I said, time passes quickly, I’m forty and old enough to marry.” I grinned.
Damien sat forward with a laugh on his lips, ready to argue. “You want to settle down?”
“Well, what’s the fucking problem with that? Don’t tell me you haven’t always dreamed of watching your little brother settle down someday with a homely woman, in a little house, by the countryside?”
That broke a smile out of him. “Little house by the countryside? Yeah, right. Like you would ever.”
“Chill, brother. If Logan doesn’t show up, I’ve still got myself a wife.”
They were silent for a while, exchanging glances, while the high notes of the performer boomed into the hall. I gave them time, inspected my fingernails, and drummed them on the edge of the table.
When they turned with raised brows and arrogant smirks, I wasn’t surprised. Damien leaned forward with folded arms on the table. He stroked his jaw and wagged a finger at me.
“We’ve come to a conclusion … you like the girl.”
I might have laughed, but I didn’t find the accusation funny. The chances of liking Addison Mae were unlikely. I didn’t like her. I didn’t like anyone. To like meant to be fond of; to show affection, to care for.
Fuck, no.
I liked her body, yes. It drove me to the brink just thinking about how there was this crazy pull between us. But that was it. End of story.
“I’m only doing to Logan what he did to us. Dishonor for dishonor.”
Viktor played with the silver ring on his finger. “You didn’t deny the accusation.”
I did. In my head. I didn’t like Addison Mae.
“I don’t have to fucking prove anything.”
Damien snorted and leaned back on his chair after he said, “Then, why don’t you just stick to fucking her? Because take it from us: marriage is a fucking big deal, Mark. Don’t go jumping into murky waters.”
Before Damien mentioned it, I had thought about it. But Addison was pure and innocent. She didn’t belong in our world, not to mention the insinuations that came with it.
A one-time fuck girl? She wasn”t.
Addison was an asset; the kind of woman you kept around for a long, long time. She was the kind of woman you marry.
“No,” was all I said, and they didn’t push further. I made my decision.
If Logan came for her, I’d capture him, make him suffer and Addison would find out the truth. But either way, she was mine to keep. She just didn’t know it yet.