Chapter 11
ANDREI
All I want to do is stay in that house Rafail’s wife Hailey found for us and fuck Nina until she’s too pregnant to walk. Pity I cannot do that. I am on a mission to finish Melor once and for all.
“You’re sure you have to go back to Baltimore?” Rafail asks me when I stop by his house to fill him in on my latest plan. What Nina told me about her mother forced me to rethink.
“There is no escaping the necessity if I am going to take over the Kotov faction before they strike us. I need to do this alone.”
Rafail won’t like it if I let revenge cloud my thinking.
I need to extract the information Nina wants from her father and then smash his face to a bloody pulp and disappear his corpse.
Only then will the primary danger to my wife and, with luck, soon a family, be eliminated.
The thought of her belly round with my child makes a small, warm, soft spot glow behind my sternum.
God forbid my fiery bratva princess ever learn the true depth of her power over me.
“Watch your back,” Rafail warns me. “Melor Kotov is a snake. He will strike when he believes you are least prepared. You took his daughter away from him. He will try to kill you.”
“I know. I’m counting on it.”
Five hours later, I maneuver my nondescript sedan through the potholed, twisting, narrow streets until I find Melor’s huge Victorian house.
It makes sense that he bought it for his bride.
The restored mansion is Nina’s style, not his.
She presumably got her artistic eye from her mother.
Melor is nothing but a bully and an oaf.
But now he’s been living in a monument to the woman he murdered.
If my instincts are right, it’s been driving him mad for nearly two decades.
I ring the bell.
“You came back,” Melor says menacingly when he answers. “I didn’t think you’d have the balls.”
“My balls are great, thanks for asking.” I let my mouth quirk up into a half-smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. If the man doesn’t like the subtext of what I just said, then he shouldn’t have brought up the subject. “You sent Nina’s belongings?”
I know he did. There wasn’t much of it. Clothes. Books. Painting supplies. Mostly art stuff. I don’t know what half that shit’s for. As long as it makes her happy, she can have as much of it as she can fit into our new house.
“She is cleared out. Good riddance.”
I make a fist at my side. Melor glances at it, then back at me. Though I’m a solid foot taller, my height does nothing to intimidate him. He glares at me with open hostility. “Why did you come back, Andrei?”
“I told you I’m a Kotov now.” Queasiness churns my gut just thinking that phrase. I’ll say anything to get him alone. I can’t take on the entire faction by myself, and I won’t risk a war. This ends tonight, and it ends between us.
“Part of the family, eh,” Melor grunts. I’m genuinely surprised when he lets me past the threshold. Inside, the mansion has a lifeless quality to it. Cobwebs have already gathered in ceiling corners. It’s barely one step from being a haunted house.
“Prove your loyalty, then,” Melor says in the living room. It’s decorated with heavy furnishings that look out of date to my eye. Not that I know a damn thing about interior design.
“Where are your guards?”
“Working. Without my Nina, I don’t have any reason to keep them around. This city is mine, Volkov dog.”
His eyes find mine, hard and cold. I had expected the loyalty test. I hadn’t wanted to do this but it’s the best idea I have to convince him to let his guard down.
I unbutton my shirt to my navel. Across my chest is tattooed Семья Волковых—Volkov Family.
“Cut it out. A few letters changed and it will read Kotov Family instead.”
I can have the tattoo fixed later when this is over.
I hold Melor’s gaze when he produces a wicked eight-inch blade.
“Just carrying that around—huh—” The last syllable ends on a sharp inhalation when Melor slices across my chest without warning.
Straight through the nipple. Fucking hurts.
I flinch away, then catch myself and stand straight.
Show no weakness. Any vulnerability could mean death.
Blood drips down my chest. Onto my stomach. Pools at my waistband. Melor grins.
“Is that all you’ve got, old man?”
Melor’s grin hardens. He comes at me, slashing with brutal precision.
He strikes a glancing blow to my thigh and cuts a three-inch hole in my pants.
That escalated quickly. Apparently, he’s been waiting for a chance to kill me, too—and I walked right into his home and handed him the perfect opportunity.
“A little too close to the family jewels,” I tell him, staggering back. “You’d better be more careful if you want that heir.”
“Once you’re dead, I can sell Nina to any man I choose. The way I planned to do before you fucked everything up, dog.” He lunges again.
I’m rattled. This man is short but he’s pure muscle, and he’s fucking fast. He knows this terrain.
I don’t. I stumble into a wingback chair and topple over with it.
Melor lets out a feral cry and jumps on me.
I manage to pull the chair awkwardly over my chest just in time for him to land on it with all his weight.
The arm presses into my neck and chokes me.
He pins me with it and begins slashing at anything he can reach.
My face. My hands. Pain streaks through me.
Frustrated that he can’t stab me through the ruined seating, he staggers upright, straddling my legs. He grabs the wooden pedestals and yanks it away.
It’s the opening I needed.
I shove the chair at him, sending him staggering back. Melor drops the knife and falls on his ass. I push to my feet before he can collect himself. I smash one foot into his balls. Melor clutches his crotch and groans. “Is this any way to welcome your new son-in-law to the family?”
He rolls up, reaching for the bloody knife. I kick it away and stomp on his hand. Bones crunch. He lets out a string of Russian curses that would make a sailor blush.
“You are not my son,” he spits. “You will never be family.”
Blood drips from a gash on my forehead. I wipe my forearm across my face, but all I achieve is to smear more blood everywhere. The air is thick with the tang of it. “Glad we have an understanding.” I gesture to a chair that hasn’t been reduced to kindling. “Sit. Let’s get acquainted.”
“Fuck you.”
“Nah, that’s your daughter’s job—”
Melor loses his shit. He lowers his head and barrels at me while cradling his broken hand. I sidestep him and stick my leg out, tripping him, slashing his shoulder as he falls. He groans when he instinctively tries to catch himself with both hands. I kick him in the temple.
He crawls.
“Pathetic.” I kick him in the stomach. He falls again, but he doesn’t stay on his belly like the coward he is. “Tell me what you did to your wife.”
“What does she have to do with anything?” Melor spits blood.
Bit his lip when he landed, I guess. He doesn’t stop moving, though his movements are slower.
He keeps his gaze fastened on the spindly vintage sofa ahead.
Probably has a gun hidden there. He must think I’m an idiot.
I let him crawl a few more feet. Waiting to see how he responds.
“Nina wants to know what happened to her mother.”
“She tried to leave. I killed her. Nina knows that. She’s as stupid as her precious mama was, trying to run off all the time. Only reason that girl is still alive is because her son will one day lead—”
Even wounded, Melor moves fast. He gathers himself onto his hands and knees and stretches out one arm like a snake.
I’m faster.
But not fast enough.
I step on his arm when he reaches for the sofa where I suspect a pistol is hidden. I bend down to grab him by the collar, but he bites my leg. Even through the thick denim it hurts. I react without thought. My weight shifts onto my other leg, and I go sprawling.
Melor has the pistol aimed at me before I can blink the blood away.
Well played.
Fuck, I’m dead.
“Nina’s son will someday lead the Kotov faction,” Melor pants. His finger twitches. I don’t think. I just react. Reflexes that have saved my life countless times kick in, and I throw the knife at him while rolling away.
The gun goes off twice, then thuds to the floor. I sit up in time to see my father-in-law sink to his knees. The light in his eyes dims.
“Stay with me.” I haul him onto the couch. Slap his face. Somehow, through pure chance, I managed to embed the knife in his chest. The blade slid between his ribs and must have nicked his heart with how fast he’s collapsing. Fear lances through me. “Melor. Tell me. Where is Nina’s mother’s body?”
He drags his gaze to mine. Right before the light fades entirely, with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, he says, “Fuck. You.”
The bastard dies.
I sit back on my heels. “You’re a fucking prick, you know that?” I survey my damaged body. The room is shambles. There won’t be any getting the blood out of the rug, the chairs, or the sofa. Mine is mixed in with his. DNA evidence makes it almost impossible to escape detection these days.
Fuck my life. Not only did I fail to get Nina the information she wanted—no, needed—I doubt she will ever forgive me for killing her father. She may not have loved him, but she will always wonder what kind of monster she is married to.
She will try to run. Like her mother did. Like she tried to do twice before.
A better man would let her go.
I won’t.
But at least the Kotov faction is mine to command…if I can stay conscious long enough to cover my tracks.