Chapter 21
After three hoursand two SUVs full of everything I can think of Faith may need for her babies, I finally make my way back to the safe house. Demitri and Grigori don’t know shit about babies which meant I had no choice but to take the lead on a task I would have happily dumped on them otherwise.
The mere mention of baby shopping and Grigori’s eyes darted around in panic. A man who’s buried countless bullets between the eyes and broken thousands of bones for a living brought to his knees by the idea of diapers and bouncy seats.
Demetri, on the other hand, had a damn look of excitement on his face. Like this was a fucking field trip with a gift shop stop at the end and a limitless credit card.
He’d come back with bullshit gadgets and toys—ones he might share with the babies, or not—and I’d still be running out for the basic necessities.
No doubt Nikolaj has a few scathing words for how long I’ve been gone.
Try me, son.
He has no one to blame but himself. He’s the one who caved the minute his sister put the pressure on to bring a friend.
A friend with infants.
This isn’t a fucking field trip. It is life or death. Faith doesn’t look old enough to vote, let alone to have twins. And Nikoletta marched all three of them right into our world of crime, balanced on fragile alliances, all on a river of blood.
And those fragile alliances, the crime—that is the best case reality for the established power system within the Bratva, which we aren’t. We are the hunted… a fact my little Pcholka seems to have forgotten in her time away.
Maksim will never stop coming for us as long as his heart remains beating and the minute it stops, Vlad will take over entirely and carnage will ensue. Nikolaj, his number one target, and me, a very close number two.
Vlad loves the power trip, but he craves playing deadly games more. He has no real awareness of how easily his life can be snuffed out with one wrong move. Instead, he gambles as though he’s made a deal with the Devil to live forever.
With no rhyme or reason to his actions, his next moves are impossible to predict.
Nikolaj has killed hundreds of men in the time he’s worked to build power. As a member of The Ophidian Society and the illegitimate son of the pakhan, the body count is just the tip of the iceberg. He’s maimed far more than that. A formidable opponent for Vlad, but under the influence of his sister, his edge wavers, leaving room for catastrophic mistakes.
He needs to shore up his defenses—and fast.
Pushing my way through the door, I jerk to a stop, my eyes going straight to the center of the room where Nikoletta stands on a small riser, a shimmering gold gown cascading down her every curve.
My gaze lands on the wisps of hair breaking free of the messy bun on top of her head, brushing over the soft skin of her neck. Blood rushes to my cock and I clench my teeth as I take in the expanse of skin exposed as my eyes trail down her spine.
Gut churning, I close my eyes against the glimpse of back dimples in full view, barely an inch above her mouthwatering ass. The slightest shift and she’ll be revealing a hell of a lot more than her sexy back.
I hate the fucking gold gown as much as I want to bow at the feet of the designer for their fucking brilliance.
My knuckles ache from how hard I squeeze the handle of the door. Jesus Christ, my heart cannot take this.
If she wants to keep me away, she is doing a shitty job. In that gown, she’s all but guaranteed I’ll have my cock grinding against her ass the whole time the dress graces her body to hide what is mine, goddammit.
Our tailor, Ahmad, kneels at her feet, pins pinched between his lips as he adjusts the length of the dress. He keeps his head down. Smart move or I may just have to put a bullet in his skull for seeing her so exposed. Fuck rationality.
Next to them stands three clothing racks with everything from casual clothing to designer gowns.
On the living room rug, Faith coos at the babies lying on their backs on a plush blanket. Their little legs kick as they squeal with the softest of giggles.
Just last week, this place had been silent as a tomb. Now—I can’t even begin to process the now. It’s the goddamned fashion district meets daycare center.
When not chasing leads on Nikoletta’s whereabouts, me and my men spent our time here studying an array of monitors from our surveillance cameras to keep an eye on our more volatile new allies.
Nikolaj never goes straight to the top to make deals and attain power. He starts at the bottom. Rather fitting for an unofficial Bratva mafia operating underground.
He forges subtle bonds with the soldiers. Earns their trust. A small favor here and there. Making connections for them on occasion. Saving their asses when they screw up. He earns enough respect, he doesn’t have to find an in with the leaders of their syndicates, the soldiers do it for him with a word here or there, in his favor, to their superiors.
Those new, tentative alliances need nurturing—and babysitting.
Me and my team are quick to eliminate problems before they can bite us all in the ass. I like it that way.
Within the first few weeks watching, we knew who would be the most useful, who would be an asset—but a messy one, and who needed to be snuffed out almost immediately. Every day his allies grow and before long, I know we’ll outgrow this space for surveillance.
I didn’t know we’d start busting out of the seams like some fucked-up versions of Three Men and a Baby.
My safe house became a prison… one holding a woman who has swiftly turned into my greatest temptation—and most destructive secret.
Nikolaj strolls in with his hands in his pockets, coming from the direction of the office where he no doubt spends a good deal of time scouring those monitors himself.
“About time, Malikov.”
“The bigger the mess you make, the longer it takes me to clean up. You’re welcome.” I toss my keys on the island, cross my arms, and nod my head in Nikoletta’s direction. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
“A party,” Nikoletta chirps from next to me like I hadn’t watched as she dripped blood while she practically sliced and diced a guy the night before. “You are familiar with those, right, Konstantin? It’s where people—the ones without sticks up their asses—mingle, laugh, drink, dance, you know, have fun.” Nikoletta aims a razor-sharp smile at me before turning away under Ahmad’s direction.
Keep it up and you’re going to have something up your ass, little girl.“No.”
“No, you don’t know what that is?” She tosses over her shoulder with a smirk.
“No. You’re not going.”
She tilts her head in a mocking way, reminding me just how young she is. “Funny—you actually think you have a say.”
Just as they did that long ago night in Illusions Cabaret, my fingers itch to redden that sweet ass of hers until just the idea of sitting makes her whimper.
Nikolaj gives his sister a warning glance before turning to me. “We have a plan. She’s going.”
“A word, Nikolaj.” I aim my index finger at Nikolaj and then the door to my office as I stride past him, ripping my jacket off along the way.
“Oh, not without me, you don’t.” Nikoletta gathers the skirt of her gown in her fingers and scrambles off the riser.
I hold the door for Nikolaj, but the minute he crosses the threshold, I take great satisfaction in slamming the door in her face.
Propping my shoulder against the wood, I hold it shut and flip the lock. “You want to explain to me why the hell she’s going to a party when she’s a walking fucking target for the Petrovs, Vlad, not to mention anyone else who might have it out for you?”
The door vibrates under my shoulder as she beats on it from the other side.
“Let me in, dammit!”
Nikolaj’s lip twitches with amusement as he glances at the door and back at me. “It’s a society party… no one will touch her there.”
“Konstantin, damn you, open this door right now or you’ll live to regret it!”
Oh, she’ll get touched there. With all the skin she has on display in that fucking gown… it is a goddamned guarantee.
And I’ll have to stand by and watch men through the evening touch what’s mine.
“Mafia will be there and you fucking know it.”
“A few, yes, but they won’t dare cross The Ophidian Order. I’ve already made it clear that she’ll be there with me and she’s not to be touched. They”ll honor it.”
“I swear to God, you better open this door right now or the minute you close your eyes, I’m slicing your balls off.”
Nikolaj rarely shows surprise. He’d learned to school his features as a boy to keep from giving his father or brother the satisfaction of knowing anything they said or did affected him. But the minute balls comes from his sister’s mouth, his eyebrows rise.
“Listen to her out there. She’s been gone for a year. You didn’t see where she was. I’m telling you, she’s not ready for society.”
“She’ll be fi—” A whip and thunk echoes through the door, cutting him off.
Silence fills the air. I flick the lock and open the door to Nikoletta’s furious red face glaring at me. Her chest heaves, practically launching her breasts from her dress with every gulp of air.
The knife she used to carve up Elijah sticks out of the wood of the door, eye level—my eye level.
“Does this look ready for society to you?” I ask Nikolaj, pointing at the knife. “The only place she should be going is to a hospital for rabies testing.”
She blows out a breath, sending the errant strands of hair falling on her face out of her eyes. “Of course, that’s what a boomer would say to a woman demanding to have a place in the conversation, you know, a conversation about her.”
I clench my fists, a thin thread of control the only thing keeping me from throwing her defiant ass over my shoulder and hauling her off to her—my damn room for a time-out, adult style. “Boomer? I’m forty-nine, you little?—”
“What the hell is up with you two?” Nikolaj winces, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re like a couple of kids snarling at each other. Jesus.”
“She’s not ready for this, Nikolaj. She’s a liability.”
She yanks the knife from the door and pauses with it pointed right at me. “Oh, you can fuck all the way off, Konstantin.”
“You,” Nikolaj says, pointing right at her. “Leave the knife at home. And you,” Nikolaj continues, pinning me with his hard stare. “She’s a liability? Fine. It’s up to you to make sure she isn’t. Handle her.”
Handle her? If he only knew my handling her is the reason she is like this in the first place.
“First, where I go the knife goes.” She lifts her gown and slides the knife into the sheath strapped to her thigh. Next to it, another knife.
Hell.
The hand-tooled leather bites into her skin just enough to remind me how soft and round those thighs were when I was fucking her on that altar.
They look even softer now.
Thicker. Mouthwatering. Fuck.
Before I can stop it, the vision of my fingertips digging into her flesh flashes in my head, making me grit my teeth.
Feral. Just remember she’s feral now.
Except, I’m pretty sure I like her this way more. Fucking her would be a blood sport—violent, angry, and absolutely devastating in the best fucking way.
Our mutual rage colliding would shake the souls under this city from their resting places until all peace has been obliterated.
“And second, handle me? What the fuck, Nikolaj. Whose side are you on?”
“Yours… always yours, which is why you’re going. But right now, you’ve been too busy snarling to keep in mind what you have to lose in this. You have…” Nikolaj glances at his phone. “Six hours to get your shit together and remember what’s at stake here. The minute you arrive at the party, the clock starts ticking. The Petrovs will know you’re back before your head even hits the pillow tonight.”
“A list of every attendee. That’s the deal, Nikolaj. You want me to keep her safe, I need a list of every single person who’ll be there from guests to bathroom attendants. Within the hour.”
Nikolaj narrows his eyes but nods. Our relationship still suffers the growing pains of a man who grew up with me as an authority figure, his father’s best friend, protection and counsel to his family. With his growing power, my authority transitioned into something different. Our playing field leveled somewhat. For now.
However, as he rises, even if under my guidance, he’ll seize ultimate control and my life will be in his hands.
In some ways, it already is.
He steps up to her then, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe. His expression forlorn, like he finally sees the little girl who looked up to him so much is gone, leaving a woman—a hardened one at that—standing in her place.
“You turned into a lioness when I wasn’t looking. Learn how to control that power so it doesn’t control you.” He cups her cheeks then and kisses her forehead. “Be smart, Lettie.”