35. Beverly Hills
BEVERLY HILLS
Mr. R
This was a family basement. Plush pile carpets. Air hockey. A theater room sat farther in the basement. A bowling alley, on account that Cutie Pie had lost all her hair a few years ago. Tired of radiation treatments, she’d wanted to bowl.
She’d only used the room twice. Twice. What a waste of money. Between her and Vassili Junior, they would bleed me dry. If … I wasn’t so rich. Truth? I’d do it again. I’d have taken Natasha’s cancer in my body and beat?—
From my left, the sound of knuckles hitting flesh made my lip curl .
“Calm down, Sim,” I ordered. “I told my daughter I’d give the Marine a chance to speak for himself.”
An uppercut proceeded my brother Simeon’s growl. “I didn’t.”
I laughed. “You know what? The second the girl he took awakens, Cutie Pie will bring her down for reckoning. If Jordyn sees him spitting up blood, I’m not gonna hold my baby back from you. You won’t either.”
My brother didn’t say another word. He’d gone soft too. Where it counted . Family . The Resnov Bratva. He’d dismantled all the Resnov Castles he’d once owned before marrying Anastasiya. The evil in him, too.
Simeon slunk over and took my bottle off the glossy coffee table where I rested my feet. He choked the neck, swigging down the vodka.
I kicked him.
He firmed his hands, the flesh underneath pink from a few minutes with that big Scot.
Kid could’ve gone the Ultimate Fighting Championship route like me.
It was better for me to hunger for UFC belts since I never wanted to take over for that piece of …
my father. Anatoly is dead . I no longer hated him, so no need to piss on his name.
Anyway, this dude could’ve made a real life for himself. A real, good, clean life for himself. Nyet . He claimed women. Stole them.
“Just admit it, Vassili,”—Simeon pointed a finger at me—“the only person you fear more than your wife is that little girl upstairs.”
I took on Natasha’s condescending tone, which she slung in my direction way too many times. “?‘Ugh, Uncle Sim, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m eighteen—nineteen. Uh, twenty.’?” I grimaced with a laugh, realizing how old she was. Maybe I did baby her too much ?
“ Twenty .” Natasha slowly walked down the west side of the basement steps, farther away. The girl we saved at her side .
Ugh . This basement had too many entry points. “I know, Cutie Pie.”
“Don’t call me that anymore, either. I’m too old for it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I rolled my eyes.
“Where’s Jamie?” Her friend gazed around the room.
They were facing the left side of the basement—toward our captive. Why the trick question?
Simeon turned around and expired a breathy “Oh?”
My glare slid to the left. The wire swung slightly from underneath the top of the staircase. Jamie MacKenzie no longer swung from it. The soldier had vanished.
“I think we have a problem.” I removed the gold-plated custom MP-443 Grach from the back of my suit pocket.
“A very big problem,” Simeon agreed.
“Wait,” the girl croaked.
I gave her a look— Who are you ? Of course, I knew who she was.
Natasha had begged us to save her after seeing her on television.
I had my enforcers on the job, and just for kicks, Simeon and I got them once a goon found them at a restaurant in Lakewood.
Paid the server to give them laced mimosas too.
But did Jordyn know who she was? Many assault victims weren’t right in the head.
Maybe all the hits. Should I hold it against her ?
Nyet. I’d had numerous concussions when tight-fisting my heavyweight UFC belt.
And I was wearing my favorite Vicuna today.
So, no need to get my hands dirty or my suit.
Be honest with yourself, Vassili. You’re a forty—okay, maybe a forty-something Russian bull, and this dude’s half your age.
Nyet. I didn’t need to be honest with myself because I still received requests to enter the octagon on occasion. Okay, that wasn’t honesty. That was pride.
But as I glanced around the room, turning slowly, Jordyn begged me to put the gun down. Like hell .
A voice grated, bitter and rough, from somewhere in the over 5,000 square feet of basement. “You shouldn’t have tied me up.”
I sniggered. Who did this Jamie think he was, the Terminator? I’d heard more crap talk the day before fight night.
My Grach aimed around the cement pillars.
Simeon had pulled his own weapon. In fact, two.
Guns fisted in both hands. We grinned, ready for the fun we hadn’t allowed ourselves to have in ages.
Thankfully, my Zariah and his wife, Anastasiya, were in Jamaica.
Then I saw him. Jamie erupted like a blur of muscle and rage.
He tackled me. The force made the gun fly from my hand.
We slammed to the ground, tangled in a fight. A fight I’d win.
Down to the clinch, Jamie was on top of me. Fists rained everywhere. Brutal precision—not calculated. His breaths came in wild gasps. I took a hit to the chin and traded him two of my own.
Thud . A hook rocked my head against the glossy marble floor.
“Dad!” Natasha screamed.
Jordyn gasped. “Jamie, please?—”
I chuckled, blood spurting from my nose.
My turn . I pressed my hips up the way my coach, Vadim, taught me years ago.
Once, Jamie road me like a bull. I wasn’t proud of that.
Twice got him off me. I twisted until I had him from behind.
Like a viper, my thick arm slipped up and around Jamie’s neck, and I tugged him against me in a rear naked choke.
As his consciousness began to slip, he braced his feet.
What was he doing ?
I squeezed tighter.
He twisted his hips to break free from my hold.
I held tight, relishing the feel of his pulse against my forearm. “Go to sleep. Go. To. Sleep …”
“Stop it!” A vase crashed over my head. I looked up to see if Jordyn had done it, but to my surprise, my daughter—the child from my very own kingly loins—hit me ?
Anatoly had said the same thing. Man, now I knew how he felt. Betrayal by blood …
I climbed to my feet. “I should—I should?—”
“You were always afraid to whoop me, and I’m too old now,” Natasha retorted.
Jordyn flew onto the ground next to Jamie, hugging him close.
I stared at the silly display. Shook my head. Some women liked to be slapped around. Used too. What could you do?
“Listen, Pop.” Sighing, Natasha stepped in front of me, her hand soft along my jaw.
And I melted. She was my little girl. My only little girl.
“I got it all wrong. Jamie was a victim, along with Jordyn when they were kids. Jordyn told me how he finally saved her while we ran downstairs to stop what shouldn’t have started. ”
I pointed the finger at my brother’s ugly face.
“Snitch,” Simeon muttered.
Yeah, well, your face looks like a dog. A heavyweight champ like me had no problem badmouthing someone.
Blood be damned. However, I’d stopped saying that aloud once I found out that Simeon was actually my half brother instead of my cousin.
Felt sorry for the guy. Anatoly was his uncle and father.
Which was why Simeon always told me he was “a Resnov more Resnov than anyone” with an acerbic chuckle.
I thought he was being arrogant until I learned the truth.
Who wouldn’t be sorry for someone connected to that?
Eh , maybe I stopped telling Simeon that his face looked like a dog’s rear on account that my wife told me we looked alike. Did I believe Zariah?
Nyet.
As I hugged my daughter, Jordyn helped Jamie to his feet. She feathered a finger over his jaw, the way Zariah would—when my opponent actually touched me. It was a nice feeling. The soft touch of a woman .
Jordyn groaned. “Oh, baby. Look at your face. We’re supposed to be getting married today.”
Jamie stared at her.
“I figured out the celebration.” She smiled at him.
“Sounds good.” Simeon scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Will there be an open bar?”
“If there isn’t, the two of you can front the bill.” My daughter. Her attitude. So much like her mother.
I snorted. “Nyet. I’m not a piggybank. I will relinquish a case of Resnov Water, though. Depends on how many guests are at this wedding.” The family vodka sold very well. Hook Scots on vodka and not that piss of a whisky they drank. Take their money? Heh . Sounded good to me.
Jamie smiled down at Jordyn. “Are you sure, JorJor? There’s nothing I want more than to marry you today.”
“Do you have a dress?” Natasha asked.
Jordyn bit her lip. “Well, no.”
“You can wear my prom dress.”
Jordyn gasped. “The dress Adrian?—”
“Not that dress,” Natasha bit off.
My eyes narrowed. Did my daughter want Jordyn to kill the conversation ?
“I was smaller two years ago,” Natasha added, fidgeting with her fingers.
“Oh, baby,” I groaned. The chemo had her thinner than a rail. Wait . I wasn’t falling into that trap. “You didn’t wear that $7000 prom dress?”
“Of course.” The vulnerability on her face faded. “You took the photos, Pop!”
I glared at my daughter. “Cutie Pie …”
“Okay. I changed. Besides, what you bought was a wedding dress.” Natasha’s eyes cut to mine. “I can imagine a gushing bride—not me—gliding down the aisle in a dress just like that. ”
I scratched the back of my neck. “It doesn’t …” It made her look pure, innocent. She was pure and innocent.
“Okay, thanks.” Jordyn nodded. She looked at Jamie. “Then it’s settled. We are getting married today, and I have a $7000 dress. Eeekk!”
“You better listen to her,” I suggested, reaching down for my gun. “She sounds like my?—”
My phone vibrated in my pocket. “Everyone quiet!” I ordered.
Rubbing the side of my knuckle in my eye, I answered Zariah.
“Honey, you’re snorkeling today, right?” I pinched the bridge of my nose while Simeon answered his phone too.
Anastasiya . Had to be. They liked to double-team us when they went on vacation.
Then, they’d share notes from the call. It was what happened when you marry an attorney, and your brother marries a woman that fits the role of Tsarina to a T.
Our wives were beautiful. Trouble. Worth the trouble.
Simeon walked away as Zariah gushed in awe.
“Yes. The coral reefs. The colorful fish. So amazing, Vassili. I wish you enjoyed going on vacations. Anastasiya and I just returned to the resort and showered. Now we’re headed to dinner.
Did you all go to church and drop off the Christmas gifts nobody helped me wrap ? ”
Nyet. “Yeah-yes, dah . Just came from church.” I nodded like an idiot, as if those beautiful brown eyes could stare into my soul from thousands of miles away.
While I pulled the phone away from my ear, I heard her snap, “Don’t lie to me, Vassili. I can hear it in your voice!”