Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ALEKSEI
She doesn’t vocalize or express her reactions. Instead, she takes another large swig of the bottle, then stumbles away. Her bedroom door closes softly, and Roshka’s rump thuds against the door as he mourns being locked out.
Quinn’s scent hangs in the air, a vanilla so sweet, it reminds me of the better things in life. I want it to be the only thing I breathe. I want everything it represents, but most of all, I want her to acknowledge the fact we’ve met.
It’s not like I can lead into it myself.
It would be incriminating to start with, placing me in the country where another of Sergey’s murderous requests were attended to.
And then what would the point be? She is to marry my brother in a matter of days.
Not only will he use my attraction to her against me, but he will also punish her for it, and that’s a heavy burden.
What is worse is, I know once she realizes who I am to Sergey, she will lump me in the same basket as him.
With good reason; family rates highly in the mafia world.
Instead, I let sleeping dogs lie and hope I can show her that her safety will always be a priority for me.
“I will lock the dogs up outside, then bring the van around. There’s another door past the kitchen that leads outside.”
I leave them with the vodka and their mistrust. Nalla trots next to me, like always. As I scratch her head, the relief and reminder I get that I am not alone chases away some of the darkness following me.
Out the front door, the security dogs are lying in wait. They are not trained individually. The pack mentality runs wild, and their hunting instincts are in overdrive. The Alpha dog is a large male Rottweiler, and he and I have never seen eye to eye.
Because Sergey is such an asshole and enjoys tormenting me at every turn, he has never named the dogs.
He knows I hate the way he treats them like they are throwaway toys.
I want to respect each dog, but sadly, I know it is wasted energy.
If I show them mercy, he will slaughter them in my presence.
He’s done so each time I have tried to change his ways.
Nalla’s posture shifts as we move past the stairs, straight to where the Rotty is. The other dogs are closing in, ready to defend him, but by their nature, as soon as I reinforce the dominance of the male, they will fall to heel too.
Thankfully, this is a game this dog and I have played too many times. Nalla stands behind as I step closer; she will watch my back. She could overpower him, but I don’t want anyone truly aware of the bond I share with my dogs, nor the strength they hide.
The Rotty’s hackles rise, and I let my own designation rush over the distance separating us and rip his submission from him before darting forward and grabbing the scruff of his neck and dragging him to where the cages are.
It would appear cruel, but compared to Sergey’s cruelty, a bit of roughhousing is nothing.
The other dogs trail behind us, wary but also driven by instinct. As soon as they are behind the cage, I lay out enough food and water, then I open the access to their kennels so they can shelter out of the weather.
I told him to let the dogs out, and that’s on me, but our usual protocol is they are kept on a leash by guards who have been shown how to handle them. Sergey was being an asshole. Intentionally.
The guardhouse, at least, is manned. There is only one guard, who has done what he was instructed, which is stay inside, leave the light on.
I tap the window as I pass, and he is awake this time. When I arrived back home, he was dead to the world asleep. He would be dead if Sergey was here.
“Open the gate,” I bark at him through the glass.
He nods, and a moment later, the gate slides open.
The van is parked further up the street. Sadly, the brisk air cuts through the pleasant buzz of the vodka, and I’m left with a headful of anxious thoughts, all pointed towards Quinn.
She’s too fucking beautiful to be here. I curse myself for not being ready to overthrow Sergey, but if I did, all the leads I’ve been quietly following will dry up, and more children will be lost.
It was only because of sheer good fortune that I was able to make my flight to Ireland.
My crew was already on board, waiting. I’d had to drop the young Omega I’d rescued at a safe house, hiding my crime by setting the barrel on fire with the body of the guard I had killed inside.
Sergey won’t look for answers; he will simply find another child, or Omega, to replace the one he lost. But I’ll be there, waiting, again until I know where the trafficking source is and who is involved.
My thoughts stay both busy and conflicted.
I know my mother would hate the man Sergey has become, while my father would be proud of the way his favorite son has emulated him and his success.
Stopping by the booth, I tell the guard to lock up the grounds and to call me if anyone shows up.
They won’t. They’re probably all with Sergey in St. Petersburg because, like rats, Sergey’s closest friends scurry after him and follow him blindly.
I should be there as his Avtoritet, but Dmitri has provided me with a good reason to stay and protect Quinn.
If Sergey’s fiancée was to die or be kidnapped, it would reflect badly on him.
Up to now, the way Sergey has acted towards her has been nothing more than a show of his power and disrespect towards Victor.
What worries me most is what his next move is. Because I know my brother, and all this is only a taste of what is to come.
Santiago is waiting at the door. He is on his phone, reading a text. I watch him until he notices.
Looking at him is like looking in a mirror; he carries as many secrets as I do. He also looks at Quinn in awe and confusion sometimes. Not how a guard should.
I hop out and wait for Nalla to follow me. She races off to do a check of our surroundings, and I won’t do much until she is back.
“Important business?” I ask him as soon as he puts his phone away.
He ignores my question, coming at me with his own. “Why were you not here with her?”
“I don’t answer to you.” Turning my back on him, I open the door of the van and climb inside.
SANTIAGO
He puts his back to me, and I wonder for the millionth time what would happen if I killed him, here and now.
I could have a believable reason rehearsed before he hit the ground.
One minute, I think maybe I could trust him, and the next, the hairs on the back of my neck are standing in warning.
This Russian, as well as every other Russian I have met, is certifiably fucking insane, but I know I’m missing something. An Alpha of Aleksei’s strength holding a position of authority as second-in-command means he’s intelligent or ruthless, probably both.
Perhaps if my focus wasn’t torn, I’d be able to see the trees for the forest, but meeting my scent-matched Omega and denying our connection while trying to arrange safe passage for a mysterious Omega, basically still a child, who recently showed up at one of our safe houses here, and managing Ronin fucking O’Connor all at the same time is leaving me blind by distraction and overthinking everything.
The child is so fucking random and unexpected.
The call I got from my contact, a woman by the name of Cat, had me arranging transport, necessary funds, and people I trusted.
But that is what the core, the heart, of Trinity Alliance is about—rescuing children and Omegas.
It’s that simple. Black and white. It’s everything that happens after that consumes.
Practically speaking, once we find a child or Omega and successfully manage their extraction, it is only the first step in a long and complicated process. No expense is spared in their recovery, and we have success stories across the globe.
Children and Omegas should be safe, which is a whole other issue. An abductee being saved needs to be investigated. It’s a long, slow process, where you must work backward to establish where they initially came from. Sadly, not every child or Omega abducted has a family mourning for them at home.
The process for figuring out anything about the young female that we got out of Russia recently has only just started.
Throw in that the Irish are in complete disarray with Paddy O’Connor, Ronin’s own father, being gunned down, along with his mother, and my focus is shredded.
Which is normal, to a degree. But this is the first time I have been caught in a Trinity rescue after meeting Quinn.
And that is where the issue lies because my heart is cleaved in two.
I need and want to continue the cause with Trinity, but I also know meeting my match means I can’t be in two places at once.
Quinn will always be my compass point. Until she says otherwise.
Ronin wants vengeance and already has a list of people who will no doubt pay for wronging him and his family.
Confounding a fucking terrible moment in the history of The Irish is the involvement of the Russians.
They came from seemingly nowhere and attacked the O’Connors at Sunday mass, which is as fucking distasteful as it is disgraceful.
All I need is a name, and I will track down the animal responsible. I’ll courier the heart of the person who pulled the trigger to Ronin, and I know it will help in his healing. Our call just now, brief but intense, was to discuss how close he is to sending me what I need.
Taking Aleksei out simply because I don’t like the way he looks at Quinn, is not the person I am. Not today, anyway.
I join him near the van, ready to lift everything we need to keep Quinn safe upstairs and on her side of the house. We don’t speak, and despite there being obvious tension between us, we’re both too dominant to bow to the other.
I finally break the silence with a question a guard probably shouldn’t ask. “What will happen once she is married to him?”
He doesn’t turn around, so I can’t interpret his expression, but his shoulders move as if pulled back by tension.
“How so?”
I scoff. “Let’s start with this door, since it’s what we’re doing. Is it necessary if the wedding is tomorrow?”
“Sergey Petrov is an important man in our world. He is prominent. His success is growing. Security throughout all his homes will have to be upgraded.”
“And?”
“Quinn will not sleep in his suite; it is not safe for him. He will call for her, she will perform her marital duty, and after, she will return to her suite.”
Red rage hazes my vision, and I take a step towards his back.
He senses me, spinning around and lunging for me. Instantly, we are circling each other like great whites in the ocean, spurred on by an instinctual need for blood. His face is pale for a heartbeat before it matches the color of my anger.
“Get a fucking grip, mudak. He will disrespect her every chance he gets. Don’t get yourself killed now because you don’t like me telling the truth.”
“You’re being a stupid cunt, protecting him, then. How do you live with yourself?”
“Don’t pretend you are any different to me,” he spits as we push and shove against each other. “He will watch you. If he sees you favor her more than a guard should, you will die slowly—after he has punished her in front of you.”
His fingers around my throat squeeze, matching the flex of mine.
I roar and keep choking him. I’ll fucking kill Sergey and this twat. The thought repeats on a seemingly never-ending loop, questions mixed in. How did she agree to marry this monster? Why?
Aleksei’s gaze is cold, matching how I suspect mine is. He is as strong as I am, which only pisses me off more, because where the hell are his morals? He has a duty as a strong Alpha, a role to play in protecting those who need it most. How could he let this Bratva cunt live?
His voice is a whisper. He hides his warning under his struggle to breathe as we continue shoving. “Don’t forget the cameras. She needs you to do what you came to do. Don’t fucking leave her unprotected here.”