20. Konstantin
KONSTANTIN
A lmost a week since I’d touched my wife. Fucked her. Heard her moans. And fuck if I’d go another day without her.
Each night without her was agony. Every day felt like a year without her. The Omertà could go to fucking hell. It got my vow but not my dick and certainly not my heart.
And here I was, meeting the goddamn Italian in Mongolia. Brussels Belgian Beer Cafe in Ulaanbaatar Mongolia. Leave it to the Italian to find a bar like this in Mongolia. I refused to meet him in Italy. It wasn’t on my way to Russia. So it was going to be Mongolia or nothing.
“Eager to get home to your wife?” Marchetti mused.
I didn’t bother answering him. He wanted this meeting. He got this meeting. So he better get it over with before I walk out of it.
Marchetti lounged on the couch opposite me, his eyes cool. We discussed security and business, but there was something else on his mind. And it had nothing to do with business nor my wife.
“Romero wants an expedited wedding,” he remarked offhandedly.
I shrugged. He knew I didn’t agree with that approach. “I don’t need a wedding invitation,” I remarked dryly. Not that the wedding would happen. Amon was going after his queen - whether she wanted it or not. “Unfortunately, my wife and I must decline since we’re busy.”
Judging by Marchetti’s expression, he wasn’t happy about it. He liked the members of Omertà to show their support during events like that. We eliminated threats together. We grew wealth together. We got married together.
Amon was never meant to take a seat at the table. His father’s background gave him a foot in the door. His mother’s background kept a foot out. The opposite was true when it came to the Yakuza. But our empire would stretch all around the globe if Amon Leone took over.
“You went above me to Amon,” Marchetti declared calmly. “I’ll be sure to return the favor. Maybe with your bride. Or maybe your sister?”
Something dark and unwanted snaked through my chest.
“How in the fuck do you know about my sister?” I growled.
Marchetti’s chuckle filled the space. “I have my ways, Konstantin. You’re not my only tech guy.” Giovanni better hope I never get my hands on him. I might strangle him. It had to be him. He was the only other tech guy in the group. Smart fucker.
Learning about my meeting with Amon probably wasn’t too difficult.
Although, it seemed incredible that Giovanni would be able to dig that up.
When I initially erased all Konstantin connections to Isla, I had Maxim attempt tracing her back to us.
He wasn’t able to. How in the fuck was Agosti able to?
It was pointless to ponder on it now. Enrico knew about her. Tatiana and Isla were my biggest strengths and weaknesses. He knew it. I knew it. But I also knew his weakness. One in particular and I wouldn’t hesitate to use it if he attempted to hurt my family.
“Did you know I’ve met her?” he asked, amused.
My jaw clenched. “No, that’s fucking news to me. And how in the fuck did you meet her?”
“She and her friends held a fashion show at one of my venues,” he explained, his tone bored. God, he could sometimes irk the shit out of me.
“My family’s off limits.” The burn inside my chest flared and spread like an inferno.
Marchetti watched me with an amused gleam in his dark brown eyes.
He looked like an Italian, which women seemed to fall all over themselves for.
“Glance their way and you’ll regret ever hearing the Konstantin name. ”
“Oh, we both know you wouldn’t drag your sister into a messy war with me,” he said curtly.
Ice crept into my veins. This was the second time he mentioned my sister. The one he wasn’t supposed to know about. Unless–
“Did you get another video?” I asked while uneasiness vibrated beneath my skin.
“I did,” he confirmed while blood drummed in my ears. I’ve kept Isla off everyone’s radar. She didn’t even carry the same last name. I ensured every connection between us was concealed so nobody would ever find her.
Yet here we are , my mind mocked.
Part of me wanted to strangle Marchetti. Eliminate the man who knew of my sister’s existence. “Who else knows about her?”
“Just me,” he said mildly, disinterest in his voice. But he was trying too hard to keep it there. “Since you enjoy fucking with my plans, I figured I’d return the favor and fuck with yours. It was either your sister or your wife, and I wasn’t quite ready for this planet to burn.”
He smiled but it lacked any hint of humor. My gut twisted and my anger boiled to a full blown rage at the thought that he entertained doing something to my wife.
“Don’t ever mention my wife or even hint of her again,” I said, my voice deadly calm despite inferno raging through me.
“And Isla’s off limits or I’m done with the Omertà.
” He seemed animated by my response. We both knew the only way out of the Omertà was death.
But I’d be sure to take him along for the ride.
“She’s a lovely young lady,” he remarked casually and a cold blast of fury ignited in my chest. I could have choked the life out of Marchetti without skipping a single heartbeat.
That fucker. Red dotted my vision. Rage coiled in my chest. I wanted to smear his blood all over the walls and floors.
“Trust me when I say you won’t like my departure from the organization if you so much as look my sister’s way,” I threatened. “And I’ll be sure to drag you along with me to the depths of hell where neither my wife nor my sister will be of your concern.”
A knowing smile played on his mouth. A smug expression passed his eyes as if he was satisfied I had just confirmed something for him.
“I look forward to it, Konstantin.”
* * *
I stepped inside my home, greeted by walls that thudded and glass that vibrated by the loud music that blasted through the whole first floor. It was so fucking loud, I was surprised an avalanche didn’t follow from the nearby hills. Heck, even a mountain.
The music blasted with some old song that I even recognized. I couldn’t believe my sister would listen to Brother Louie from the 80’s. Or was it the 70s? Fuck if I knew.
The familiar song thundered through the air and I almost expected a disco ball somewhere. Brother Louie seemed to be the theme. If I saw someone in those fucking shoes with double platforms, I’d start shooting.
I turned the corner and found my guards filling the hallway.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I barked. They all crowded in front of the double doors to my living room. Two of my men had their ears pressed against the doors, listening. I must be hiring idiots because there’d be no chance in hell they’d hear anything over the loud music.
“Why aren’t you in there watching them?” I demanded to know, my eyes on Nikita. “Instead you’re out here holding each other's dicks.”
Nikita stepped forward, an implacable expression on his face. “That blonde angel of yours shot one of the men.”
A growl vibrated through my chest. She shouldn’t have to feel the need to shoot someone in my home. If someone had attempted to hurt her, I’d shoot all these motherfuckers myself.
Red dotted my vision. “What happened? What did he do?” My voice was like a whip of cold air.
Nikita shook his head. “Did it occur to you to ask what she did?”
Tatiana was wild. And impulsive. But she was my woman and I wouldn’t allow any man to question her or her actions. That was only my prerogative.
“Watch yourself, Nikita,” I warned in a low voice. “She’s my wife.”
His lips thinned in displeasure. “Your wife instructed us to remain outside. She and your sister are having private dance lessons and Mrs. Konstantin threatened that her next bullet would pierce someone's heart.”
Okay, Tatiana could be wild. I knew that. But fuck it. I’d prefer her wild side to her sad one. Although I worried about the influence that would have on my baby sister. Isla was timid and shy around strangers.
“Why didn’t you cut off the music by shutting down power to the room?” Boris questioned, appearing behind me.
“That sounds like a better approach,” I agreed.
Nikita’s jaw ticked and his expression turned darker. “Fuse box is in the room,” he remarked. “Inside.” He tilted his chin towards the closed doors. “You said if anyone lays a finger on her, you’ll cut their hands off. She played on that.”
I didn’t know whether to be proud or mad. Definitely proud. Queen through and through.
Leaving them all behind me, I pushed the doors open and strode through it. The doors bounced against the wall, hinges protesting at the violence. Of course, not a sound came through since the music blaring through the speakers drowned all other noises.
Hence neither my sister nor Tatiana noticed me enter. But I noticed them. They danced like they were professional strippers and Isla was drunker than a Russian sailor. My jaw ticked. My sister never touched alcohol, not even at Christmas.
And barely a week with Tatiana and my sister was hammered.
Tatiana wore black leggings that hugged her curves and an oversized, light blue sweater that came down to her mid thighs. My sister wore some shorts and a tank top that barely covered her ass. In the middle of fucking winter!
Okay, my proud moment might have diminished under that revelation. Anger simmering under my skin, I strode to the power outlet and yanked the cord from the wall.
Music came to a halt in the middle of a verse. Both had their hands on the support column, their asses jutted out. It looked like they were competing for the gold medal in pole dancing. If that was a category at the Olympics, the two of them would win it.
“What–” Tatiana’s undignified voice filled the silence.
Two sets of eyes met my gaze. One drunk and one surprised. Her expression quickly turned smug. Deafening silence followed as my wife and I had a stare down. She won it.
“What in the fuck are you doing?” I roared.
She smiled, smugness still filling her expression. But she didn’t lose her cool. In fact, she seemed to be extremely pleased with my reaction.
“My dear husband, you’ve finally come back to your wife.
I have missed you so much. I cooked and cleaned, filled my days with sewing and knitting, but nothing quite pleased me.
I prayed and counted the days when my beloved would return home to me.
” Her eyes flashed with the anger she hid under her pale blue gaze. “To the wife he knocked up.”
Jesus Christ.
She was pissed. And I was fucking rock-hard.