CHAPTER 4
HUCK
I run my fingers through my hair and instantly regret it considering I’ve already showered and gotten dressed for this farce of a dinner.
While I don’t normally give a fuck about appearances, there are times to look good.
My gut is telling me tonight is one of those times.
Call it a power play if you want, but there are far too many people in this world who judge from the jump.
Growing up, with all the rumors and suspicions around my best friends and brothers, we got used to the judgement.
And having a facade.
I needed it for other reasons as well.
It served me well when dealing with my parents and their bullshit.
After stalking into Kirill’s office in our house, I’m not surprised to find everyone gearing up.
“I didn’t know we were having a party in here?” I joke while looking at the men who are more like family than my own have ever been.
I’ve never hidden how these guys saved my life.
Their friendship and the way they refused to leave me behind, even when I wanted them to, was the lifeline I needed.
I was so angry.
At the world.
At the people who should have loved me and put me first.
At anyone who thought I was worth a damn when I didn’t see the same in myself.
But these guys supported me and pulled me back every time I was teetering on the edge of the abyss.
I haven’t talked to my parents in 16 years.
Not since I turned 18 and walked away from the house where I grew up.
It was never my home.
It was just a place where horrors existed behind closed doors while they ensured that everyone thought they were above reproach publicly.
They were addicts and alcoholics.
They were abusive and manipulative.
Kirill, Maxim, and Baker saved my fucking life.
When Kirill set out to build his empire, which led us to Seattle, I knew where my loyalty would always lie.
They also gave me purpose.
I don’t think I would have furthered my education in computer science without their encouragement and their support.
I would have followed my father’s expectations and majored in business.
It would have been easier because when my father found out I changed my major, he stopped paying for school.
Kirill wasn’t having it and his family stepped up with payments, never expecting me to pay it back even though I have.
My pride wouldn’t let it happen any other way.
I sheath two knives after sliding my gun into my shoulder holster.
We slip our jackets on, and Maxim lets out a low whistle.
The amusement in his voice is clear as he chuckles, “We scrub up good, brothers.”
He’s not fucking wrong.
Even Baker, who hates wearing a suit and would rather avoid it if it were up to him, is looking on point tonight.
I’m the opposite and wear a suit like armor.
My suits hide my inner nerd and my love for technology and computers.
My obsession with tech has served Kirill and the organization well.
Then there is how my suits hide my thirst for blood and violence.
Most people would just see me as a professional and not look deep enough to see the demon inside of me begging to be let out.
Baker arches his eyebrow in my direction.
“Have you found out anything else about Chambers?”
“Nothing new,” I respond with a shrug.
“He worked with Morozov for years. He’s in finance and everything about him looks good on paper, but it’s all a front.”
“Nothing surprising there,” Baker mutters.
He looks up to find us watching him and he shrugs unapologetically.
“Anyone who worked with that scum has some marks on his soul.”
“It’s not like we’re exactly choir boys,” Maxim snarks.
I glance his way but it’s Kirill who growls, “But there are lines we won’t cross. My city’s ports will never be used to peddle flesh.”
The descending silence is full of tension.
Knowing the men who used to wield power in this city used it to abuse and terrorize women, changing the course of their entire lives by selling them as if their only worth was tied to their bodies, pisses all of us off.
It’s not right.
It’s not what men should be doing with their power.
Baker checks the knives he has strapped to him.
Again.
I smirk at the man, and he only gives a shrug, not giving a shit.
He takes his position as the muscle of the group very seriously.
None of us need him to protect us, we’re more than capable of doing it ourselves, but that doesn’t mean Baker’s role isn’t important.
It is.
He keeps his head about him when the heat is on.
He’ll analyze every situation and make sure all contingencies are considered but then he’ll act.
Baker will charge headlong into any given situation with guns blazing.
He won’t think twice about it either.
The man will bathe in blood and smile the entire time.
“Chambers has a daughter,” my voice cuts through the room and the guys turn towards me slowly with various looks of surprise and knowing on their faces.
“He didn’t sell her to Morozov or try and marry her off to Mikhail?” Kirill’s tone is full of censure.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly.
“His daughter lives at home and has a college degree. There isn’t much to really say about her beyond that. She has a relatively normal technological footprint, except for when it comes to social media. She has accounts but doesn’t post much.”
“So not some vapid socialite?” Maxim’s lip curls as he asks the question about the daughter.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” I admit, bored with this conversation.
Bored with everything about tonight.
To say I’m not looking forward to dinner and meeting Chambers would be an understatement.
If Chambers believes that we don’t know what he’s up to, that he’s trying to worm his way into Kirill’s good graces because Morozov is no longer around to do business with, then he’s going to be in for a big surprise.
Kirill isn’t a man to be taken lightly or to be underestimated.
Chambers is doing both which doesn’t bode well for him.
“How much do you want to bet that Chambers is going to offer up his daughter to you,” Maxim teases with a smirk.
Kirill lets out a groan and mutters, “I need to grab another clip.”
Laughter fills the room, and I grin at the men who have become my brothers.
Kirill is likely to kill the man right there in the restaurant if he tries any such thing.
We don’t deal in flesh and then for a father to use his daughter, practically selling her?
Talk about shit that won’t go over well.
And if the woman is loud, spoiled, and bratty?
It will make the whole thing even worse.
Considering how much Chambers revels in appearances, I doubt she will be anything less than an over inflated princess.
Baker pulls his knives out and then sheaths them again.
Maxim snorts out a laugh.
“On edge, Baker?” Maxim taunts the man in question, not bothered by the knives he’s just slid back into place while Baker shoots him a glare.
“I don’t like meetings in restaurants. There are too many variables,” Baker’s voice is serious, something which goes against his normal personality.
But when it comes to safety, he doesn’t play around.
“Should we call in Wolfe and his team for backup?” Even though I know what the answer will be, I know I need to ask the question anyway.
Maxim scoffs and Baker stands taller, his chest puffing up, indignation flowing from him.
I almost smirk but keep my face neutral as I take in his reaction.
Wolfe, one of the mercenaries on our payroll who have been running down the remnants of Morozov’s organization who have been just waiting in the shadows for any opportunity to take the power in this city back, is Baker’s brother.
While Wolfe joined the military, Baker stayed with us and found his footing as the protector of the Volkov name.
Baker and Wolfe are close, being brothers, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a little competition between them.
Or a lot.
At least Wolfe never looked down on his brother because he chose to stay with us, forming our own inner circle, instead of going the same route as Wolfe did.
There could have been a great deal of judgement there, especially with all the rumors about the Volkov family, but Wolfe never did that to his brother.
The man earned my respect from that alone.
Then for him and his team to take jobs around the world using the skills they gained while serving our country to find abduction and trafficking victims only made them a more valuable asset to have in our back pocket.
It helps to have allies.
When we took down Morozov and took over in Seattle, we didn’t use his team.
However, when we found out Anatoly’s son, Mikhail, was trying to gain a foothold in the city, we knew we needed backup.
We can’t be everywhere at once and there are far too many stones to turn over in a city like this.
The power structure here is tenuous at best.
We have allies, strong ones, in the Devil’s Saints MC and with the Italian mob who has Angelo Amato at the helm, but we still need to keep hold and not lose ground.
Never fucking again.
“The mercs are busy running down some leads on the rats trying to hide in our city,” Kirill sneers.
“We can manage a middle-aged man,” Maxim assures with a wave of his hand.
He levels me with a look and points out, “He’s walking into this meeting on a wing and a prayer.”
“And a daughter to barter with,” Baker snarks.
Disgust at the thought of what a daughter born to a man like Chambers, with the connections he had no problem brokering, fills me.
I can only hope she’s not at this meeting.
But my gut is telling me I should have dug deeper into her.
There wasn’t much to find, and I left it alone, but now I’m regretting my decision.
If Mikhail wants to plant someone, I doubt he would choose a woman.
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree when it comes to that family and Anatoly didn’t put any stock into women and their abilities.
No, he only saw value in them on the auction block and to be an outlet for his rage.
Not a good look on a man, if you can even call him one, but he’s dead.
Now, we’re left to deal with his son.
I have no doubt that he’ll be coming out of the shadows soon.
Everything in due time.
Kirill looks at us and gives a curt nod.
“Are we ready for this farce of a meeting?”
I huff out a chuckle and smirk.
Farce is fucking right.
There is no way that I trust Chambers.
Why would he want this meeting?
He was in bed with the enemy for so fucking long.
Now he wants to switch his loyalties?
It wouldn’t surprise me because he’s a man with no morals, if he was in business with Morozov.
He cared about the money.
Now it has dried up.
I’m expecting him to be desperate which means he’s dangerous and unpredictable.
Just what we need right now.
As if dealing with Mikhail trying to undermine Kirill isn’t enough.
The drive to the restaurant, one we own, even though it’s not public knowledge, is quiet.
Baker’s entire body is tense, and his eyes are constantly assessing everything as we move through the city.
If I only saw him in this mode, I would think he’s the serious and stoic one of our group.
It’s the last thing he is unless he’s in work mode.
When he’s not?
He’s the first one to find the silver lining in a bad situation, crack a joke, or pull a prank.
The way he can switch that side of him off and become the serious, focused man that we need is kind of amazing.
When we pull up to White Stone, my stomach rumbles.
I’m not alone either.
We know how good the food here is.
The chef is from Russia and everything on the menu is authentic.
It was something Kirill insisted on, even though the only people who know who the real owners are is the manager and the chef.
It’s better that way because then the business stands on its own without the Volkov name.
What should draw people is the food and the service, not rumors which may or may not be flying around the city.
Kirill steps into the restaurant first and the manager is standing there and waiting for us.
“Mr. Volkov,” he greets with a respectful nod toward the rest of us as well, “we have your private room set up.”
“Thank you, Erik,” Kirill’s voice is professional bordering on boredom.
He tilts his head to the side with the way Erik shifts from foot to foot, something he normally doesn’t do.
“Is there anything else?”
“I thought you should know that your party is already here. A Mr. Chambers and a young woman I believe to be his daughter,” Erik’s voice is tense and a little thready which showcases his nervousness.
The tension between us ramps up, not surprising considering we now know Kirill is about to be ambushed.
It might not be with guns, but Chambers bringing his daughter is like wielding a weapon, nonetheless.
Kirill’s eyes go glacial, and I have to bite back my smirk.
He’s not going to let Chambers get away with this, but now there’s another layer to deal with when it comes to this dinner meeting.
I almost growl out my annoyance at the whole thing but swallow it down as Erik leads us to the private room where Chambers is already waiting.
The frustration coming from us increases with every step.
At least the food will be delicious.
The chef here knows what we like, and I know there won’t be a menu in sight because there is no need.
We’ll be served a five-course meal with the best of what White Stone has to offer.
No matter what else happens, at least we won’t go home hungry.
I’ll take the little victory where I can find it.
The moment we step inside the private room, Richard Chambers stands and buttons his suit jacket.
I barely look at him, taking him in with a dismissive glance.
He tries to look aloof, but there’s a tightness in his face that shows his anxiety and more than a little panic.
I almost scoff at the way he’s trying to show himself as a strong man as he stands before us.
We know the truth.
It’s all a show, one he’s not very good at carrying off.
When my eyes slide to the woman still sitting at the table, everything inside of me stills.
My past, the demons I’m still fighting because of it, all the thoughts constantly spiraling through my consciousness, and the concern about what Chambers wants from us…
it all disappears.
The woman is gorgeous.
She’s clearly younger than us, probably early 20s, and there’s an innocence about her which stops me from looking away.
Her dark brown hair is styled with soft curls that frame her face and flows down around her shoulders.
She’s wearing a gorgeous red dress which is fitted but classic instead of being over the top and showing far too much skin.
Her brown eyes come up and meet mine for a moment before she looks back down at her lap, her eyelashes fan over her cheeks before they turn a delicate pink color.
We only lock eyes for a moment, but there’s something in her gaze that has me wanting to close the distance between us and pull her into my arms.
“Mr. Volkov,” Chambers greets and steps toward us even though we have all frozen at the entrance of the room.
Maxim clears his throat, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the woman sitting at the table.
Something is off, I don’t know what, but I’m going to find out.
Fuck.
I should have dug into her more.
I’m kicking myself now.
It’s not like I don’t know better; I do.
Having all the information always works out better than being in the dark.
“Mr. Chambers,” Kirill’s words are clipped as he steps forward with Baker right at his back.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” there’s a tightness in his voice.
“I’d like to introduce my daughter, Oaklynn, to you.”
Kirill’s back ripples with tension and barely contained fury.
Thinking he was going to bring his daughter and being presented with her are two different things.
What kind of man does this?
Chambers doesn’t look anywhere near as worried as he should be.
If he makes it through the night while still breathing, he’ll be lucky.
Oaklynn.
She’s gorgeous and I can barely tear my eyes away from her.
She glances around furtively as we all take our seats around the table.
Erik still stands at the edge of the room, but the moment we’re all seated, he materializes from the shadows.
The silence surrounding us is thick as Erik pours us wine.
When Chambers notices me watching Oaklynn, he looks far too pleased.
It’s the only thing which has me tearing my eyes away from her.
My gut is screaming at me that this is going to be a shit show.
Maxim is smirking and I have no doubt he’s looking forward to being entertained.
Baker has his head on a swivel as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He’s probably not far off, but I think the threat is going to come from whatever ulterior motive Chambers has.
The men who have become my brothers are all wearing masks of neutrality and even I’m not sure what they think about Oaklynn.
The only thing I know for sure is that if I get the chance, I’m going to make her mine.