Chapter 21
Kazimir
Violence.
Bloodshed.
Sex.
They were three words frequently used when mentioning the Chertov Empire.
I added another one.
Lust.
The word was one I’d learned early in life. My father had sat me down in a big leather chair opposite him, giving me what he thought was my first taste of expensive vodka. It hadn’t been. I’d snuck into his office on several occasions, finally paying an older soldier to buy me liquor.
Pops had proceeded to talk about lust and how it affected the mental and emotional state of a young man.
Not in good ways.
I’d laughed at him, telling him I was in control.
Then the first girl had waltzed into my life and I’d almost gotten killed in the process.
Obsession was as dangerous within business as rage or indifference. Yet on this night, after noticing she’d left her apartment in a sexy little dress, all I’d been able to think about was touching her.
Kissing her.
Tasting her.
And what the hell, fucking her for old times’ sake. Only that wasn’t the exact truth. I wanted her with me. Completely and without question.
As dangerous as the thought alone would be, I was finished with being strangled by anyone’s set of chains. I’d gone out of my way to find her, which I had. Walking away wasn’t an option.
Maybe I was clinging to every scrap of my former self since I’d been forced to lose touch with reality. It was funny how much I’d thought about family during my incarceration.
I’d barely had time to suffer what little grief I was capable of with my father’s death before the incident in Italy. I’d also mourned my brother’s loss of innocence, although that had been taken years before.
A slight stench of blood lingered in my nostrils, but my methods of killing hadn’t been lost in the period of nonuse. After watching him follow my little healer, I’d initially been impressed with her immediate reaction, her perceptions spot on.
I might have allowed him to live had he not doubled back to see if she’d reappeared.
The same rage I’d felt before had surfaced again and I enjoyed having blood on my hands.
His death had been necessary. Not finding any identification had also brought out another wave of protectiveness I hadn’t known existed.
Maybe that was the last line that had been needed before I’d come to terms with my need to possess her.
With no bodyguard, she was still a female in a sea of predators. She was worth potentially millions to a half dozen other crime syndicates. Had she convinced her father she didn’t need a bodyguard, or had he not cared what happened to his only daughter?
Whatever the case, there wasn’t a chance I’d leave the man alive, affording him an opportunity to strike again.
So I’d attacked from behind, cutting his carotid artery cleanly without a drop of blood spilling on my clothes.
Imagine my surprise when Kirill had discovered the would-be thief had other, darker indulgences on his mind. With his private connections, he’d called in a favor utilizing the picture I’d taken of the dead man.
Lo and behold, what did he learn? The man whose throat I’d slit had been an operative likely sent to kill Rafaela. As an independent, he was little more than a mercenary for hire. But he didn’t work alone. Few knew the man called the Ghost was actually two individuals working in tandem.
Now the hunt was on, the goal to discover the other person. There’d been rumors for years, both men sighted individually only once, their mistake used to our benefit. And we’d gotten lucky with Kirill utilizing the right contact. I doubted my luck would hold, which was why time was of the essence.
With the one bastard down, the other man from the duo could soon retreat depending on the terms of the contract. While he likely had no idea who’d killed his partner, by now he was aware of the man’s death. I’d seen it in the news myself, which was the reason I’d been at the scene.
Seeing her for the second time even from a distance had brought a wave of emotions I didn’t want or need.
Desire being the number one.
Anger shadowing almost everything else.
There’d been no denying the electricity even from several yards away.
Or the fact she’d sensed my watchful eyes.
I’d recalled two of the men Kirill had hired to keep a watch on her. The partner would likely try again. Meanwhile, we were sitting outside a bar where an informant Kirill knew had provided an initial tip, paid to confirm the person’s identity.
I glanced at the windshield as twilight gave way to darkness.
The hunt for the second individual had taken much longer than if I had been in Russia with my usual contacts at my disposal.
With more time ticking, there was a much greater chance that the element of surprise from my return would disappear.
That meant altering my plans. Italy would wait. The old man wasn’t going anywhere.
The necessity of taking control should be first in my mind.
It wasn’t.
While both Kirill and I had driven, minimizing our time in talking with various people before being led to this seedy bar, he returned to my car, sliding into the passenger seat. “We have our confirmation, although the mother upped his price.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand dollars. The man’s reputation precedes him. People are frightened.”
“Then the Ghost is here for an elimination.”
Kirill shook his head before tipping his face in my direction. “Not from what the informant told me. A major event has been planned.”
A slow and steady smile drifted across my face. “Then we need to determine who Rafaela is supposed to marry. Where is our Ghost?” The plan continued to change. With the Ghost sent to ensure my lovely little healer didn’t disappear, she was obviously more valuable than even I’d believed.
She would now get her wish from years before.
But not just in visiting Russia. She would soon find Moscow her home.
“You’ll love this. Our Ghost’s counterpart is at your favorite brothel.” Kirill chuckled.
My favorite brothel. I’d been to Paris five times in my life prior to now, four of them for handling the smaller arms contracts in Europe.
Every time I’d finished with business, I’d treated myself to a visit at the brothel, Madame Dubois providing me with the perfect companion every time.
However, the first time my father had taken me to the location had been all about fulfilling every growing boy’s fantasy.
The madam herself had been my first, paid to allow me to make mistakes and find the lover I intended to be without anyone in the outside world learning of any deficiencies. I’d enjoyed every minute of her tutelage, remembering it fondly. Our friendship would prove to be very helpful.
“Then let’s not waste any time. I have a filthy indulgence of my own to fulfill.”
“There’s one more thing you should be aware of.” My commander took a deep breath.
“And?”
“After you disappeared, I allowed a second article to be written by the same reporter who mentioned the death of your father. I did so thinking someone would search for the information, hoping whoever it was could lead me to your location. You can put a tracker on the internet. Ultimately, with use of one of our computer experts, I could narrow it down to the actual computer’s IP address, but at least the application I had installed on my phone allows me to see be pinged with a city.
If anyone found my article, while it would take some sleuthing, details about you and your family’s regime could be discovered. ”
With my eyebrows lifted, I waited while he pulled out his phone. “Keep going.”
“The usual suspects from the beginning including our own people did indeed search, likely hoping for any leads. And the Italians did as well after they were grilled about their knowledge of your disappearance. Then all went quiet.”
“Until now.”
“Yes. Now, the interesting aspect is they’d need to know my name.”
I laughed softly to myself. “I used it at the fashion event given the guests’ identities were checked.”
“Then you’ll find this interesting.”
He nodded then handed me the phone, the map providing a clear indication of the person who’d been searching. The city? Paris.
“Rafaela.”
“Does that mean you can trust her more or less?” he asked.
“That remains to be seen, my friend. But after we finish time spent with our Ghost, my sweet angel and I will have a long conversation.”
“Then what?”
I rubbed my chin before answering. “Then it might be a good time to embrace the old ways and take a wife.”
He whistled before throwing open the door. “You do enjoy playing with fire. I’m damn glad you’re back. Life was without meaning.”
Another chuckle formed on my lips even as I fought the same emotions from before. Was my little healer a friend or foe? In truth, did that really even matter?
Not in the least.
I’d meant what I’d told her years before.
She belonged to me.
* * *
The brothel was spectacular, a quaint yet elegant location in a sea of third-rate hotels. Paris had a reputation for taking care of their escorts, which attracted the wealthiest of men who paid for only the most beautiful women in the business.
Evidently, money was no object for the Ghost’s shadow.
As soon as I walked in, I was struck by how things rarely changed even after thirteen years. She’d likely heard of my death, but wouldn’t dare say a word to anyone about her own ghost gracing her presence.
Madame Dubois’ eyes lit up the moment I walked in. She was so taken aback she pressed her hand over her heart before walking closer. “Kazimir Chertov. I thought you were dead.”
“I was.”
She whistled. “I guess I don’t need to know any details.”
“It’s better if you didn’t. I need your help.”
“Anything. I am so sorry about your father. He was a good man.”
That was in relative terms. He’d been good to her, which was how he’d met Stash’s mother, a former model turned escort. Something even Stash didn’t know.
“Yes, although I’m glad he isn’t here to see what’s to come.”