Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Kolya
“You have a son,” Kirill said over the phone, what could have been described as awe and disbelief in his voice. “When the fuck did this happen?”
“I met her two months before I was thrown into Supermax.”
“And she kept him from you this whole time?”
Somehow I found myself defending Chloe. “Listen, it makes sense. Anonymous weekend fling only to find out that you’re pregnant and your baby’s father was an accused serial killer.”
Kirill groaned. “Shit, I’m sorry, comrade. I made you stay in jail longer.”
“What’s done is done. But I want the boy to be raised bratva.”
“It goes without saying he’s going to be in danger unless we claim him.”
That was one thing I didn’t tell Chloe, and that was why I left. And the only reason I was able to leave was because, even though I wasn’t fond of the people surrounding her, I trusted them to keep her safe.
“I’ll talk to our lawyer,” Kirill said, then he paused…and I heard a female voice in the background. My friend was so pussy-whipped over his wife, I hardly recognized him whenever she was around.
“Lucy’s not a lawyer,” I said.
“Hey, I have a law degree,” she yelled.
“I’m not entrusting my son’s future to you. Besides, we’re not only up against the De Luccis. I’m more concerned with King’s legal team.”
“Imagine the headlines,” Kirill chuckled. “Come here and we can discuss this.”
“What’s the matter? Afraid I will go off the rails? Don’t worry.”
“When are you arriving?” Lucy had grabbed Kirill’s phone, which in itself was a feat because my friend was touchy about that. “Dom’s still not telling me anything.”
“Because it’s none of your business,” I told her.
She gasped.
“Careful how you talk to my wife.” Kirill was back on the line.
I rolled my eyes and ended the call.
He sent a text.
Kirill
Don’t stay out too long. We need to discuss how to handle this.
I sighed.
Also, I won’t hear the end of it from Lucy.
The Zahkarovs and the Kings had a complicated history. And it took a De Lucci—Lucy specifically—to unravel the whole sordid drama.
She was the one who found Chloe hiding in a cabin—the missing King heiress destined to inherit four percent shares of the multibillion-dollar King empire.
Then the whole Jeremiah King as the real Mistress Strangler unfolded, giving credence to the sickness the Kings tried to bury.
There was no admission of guilt, just a trail of circumstantial evidence.
It remained buried because King Industries was too big to fail and the Zahkarovs’ own legitimate corporation was entangled with their survival.
Was it only a week ago when Dom, Trevor, Kirill, and I had been crammed into a helicopter chasing after Lucy and Chloe who had jumped into a car with Theo to stop his brother?
I rarely felt fear. But at that time? I was close to feeling it.
The guys were arguing, and I was getting a headache. Dom was trying to calm Kirill down.
“Lucy may be your sister, but she’s my wife!” Kirill snapped. “She’s going to send me to an early grave.”
That was believable. But my thoughts were centered on Chloe.
The woman I’d fucked right before I got arrested.
See, I always researched my targets, even women I let into my bed.
And Chloe had been a target. But after watching her getting harassed by some idiot with an oversized ego and a ridiculous comb-over, I couldn’t help interfering.
I dragged the man outside and gave him a concussion.
That should have been the end of any interaction.
I paid the pub owner to erase the surveillance and the bouncer to make sure the idiot left.
I could have gone back to observing Chloe Brown. But what did I do?
I sat down beside her and struck up a conversation. I had a whole cover for my being there. Nicolas Durant, liquor merchant. I was fluent in several languages, including French, and I inhabited my fake identity just as Chloe had given me a false name—Crystal.
No last names, she said. So she knew me as Nic.
Kirill cursed, pulling my attention back from my first encounter with Chloe.
“Lucy says Aralina is on the roof.”
My concern for Chloe momentarily shifted to Kirill’s sister, whom I treated as my own. If only Kirill had given me the go-ahead to take care of Jeremiah King when he’d shown interest in Aralina, this wouldn’t have happened.
Dom gave instructions to the pilot to land a distance from the King mansion to transfer to a couple of SUVs that were already waiting.
When we arrived at the mansion, Kirill nearly lost his shit when he spotted Lucy hanging out the window.
But while he was imploding over Lucy, I was already running inside the mansion and was the first one to see the carnage inside.
One bratva soldier dead in the foyer, another on the staircase.
“Jesus Christ,” Dom said behind me.
I passed the grotesque body on the staircase, my gun already drawn.
The person who committed this possessed rage behind his killing.
No one would shoot the face repeatedly unless he exhibited psychopathic behavior.
We ascended in single file. Dom and Kirill let me take the lead.
Our soldiers were herding back King’s security. We didn’t want them interfering.
These were executive-level decisions.
Meaning mine.
Well, my pakhan’s too, but when it came to eliminating threats, that job belonged to me.
“Shoot him!”
That was Lucy.
Bang.
We hurried up the attic stairs. Forget stealth mode.
Bang.
Red hazed my vision when I saw Jeremiah charging toward Chloe and Lucy.
Two gunshots rang out.
Kirill and mine.
I was sure my bullet was the one that sent Jeremiah tumbling to the floor. I never missed, and I always aimed for the head.
We spilled into the attic, and while Kirill went for the women, I ignored Chloe’s burning gaze on me and climbed out the window to get Aralina who was taking refuge on the ledge of the roof.
Kolyashka, Aralina mouthed.
I gently guided her back into the attic. My jaw worked overtime at what could have gone wrong if any of the bullets ricocheted, went through the roof, and struck her.
Theodore King acted like the fucking hero and wrapped Aralina in his winter coat
Kirill’s eyes flared at the gesture. “Take your hands off—”
“Shove it, Zahkarov. She doesn’t need to see the bloody mess you created,” King said.
He had a point, but I was more concerned with how to get rid of Jeremiah’s body. I crouched down beside his still form. He was shot in the chest and probably the shoulder, judging from the map of red. He also had a bloody head wound. A crimson lake was pooling underneath him.
While Aralina was whisked away by our trusted soldiers, Dom left a warning for Kirill, given how he had Lucy clutched tightly to him. “Go easy on her, Zahkarov.”
That was when Chloe spoke. “Lucy…I shot him twice.” She stared at the man I was inspecting.
“I wasn’t the one who killed him,” she added.
“No, you didn’t,” I said. “I did.”
“What? I thought you did?” Lucy asked Kirill.
“I’m a better shot,” I responded smugly while checking his pulse.
“The fuck you are,” Kirill shot back.
Well, what do you know? The bastard was alive. There was a pulse. It was faint, but it was there.
No wonder the older King was tense as fuck like he wanted to snatch his brother and leave. Fists clenching and unclenching, jaw tight. He nodded for his men to take Jeremiah’s body away.
Fuck that.
“Not so fast.” I stood and sneered at Theodore King. “You think I didn’t detect a faint pulse?”
“He’s alive?” Kirill asked.
“And what if he is?” Theo lifted his chin.
“He killed my men and terrorized my sister,” Kirill said.
“You think I’m going to hand my brother over to you?” Theo snapped. “There are consequences if Jeremiah or I disappear. You should ask your brother, Maksim, about the repercussions that may arise to your own bratva if that happens.”
Kirill stilled. A flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
“He’s bluffing.” We needed to kill these fuckers and burn this whole place down.
Theo ignored my statement as if I were an annoying insect and headed for the stairs. “I’ll be in touch. I’m sure neither of us wants a scandal to come out of this.”
I bristled when his eyes fell on Chloe. “I’ll be in touch with you, too.”
That fucker was going to leave with a body that I’d made up my mind about to dismember and dispose of. I surged forward to stop them, but Kirill blocked me.
“You'd better go before I change my mind,” he threw over his shoulder. “This one doesn’t always follow orders.”
Of course he meant me.
When King left, I couldn’t help snarling at Kirill. I hated loose ends, and we left a big fucking one that would be a headache to tie up later. “Why the fuck did you let them leave?”
“I’m not going to risk a shootout with my wife in the crossfire.”
Fine, maybe he was right, but that gave me an opportunity to finally give my attention to Chloe. Did she recognize me? The way she was hiding behind Lucy and still glaring at me told me she did.
I addressed Kirill in Russian. “What are we going to do with her?”
“Nothing. Return her to the De Luccis.”
“She’s the King heiress. Maybe we could use her as leverage.”
“I don’t need another headache. Did you know this one held me at gunpoint with a shotgun?”
I raised a brow. “Really?”
“It might be a good idea to divest her of the weapon, hmm?”
“My pleasure.”
I prowled toward Chloe, startling her. “Give up the gun, princess.”
“Don’t call me princess,” she snapped, evading my reach.
I raised a brow. “Don’t cower.”
“I didn’t cower when I shot Jeremiah!”
“It’s my gun.” Lucy pried the weapon away from Chloe.
“Kolya!” Kirill snapped. “I don’t need more problems. Take care of her. I need a chat with my wife.”
Chloe appeared terrified, and it pissed me off.
“I’m not leaving with him,” she announced.
“You think you have a choice?” The corner of my mouth pulled up.
“All right,” Lucy censured, massaging her temple. “Enough with the high-handedness.”
Kirill glared at his wife. “Looks like I need to be stricter with you.”
“We got Aralina back—” Lucy defended feebly.
I clasped Chloe’s arm, eager to have her alone and get reacquainted, but she shook me off. “I said…I’m not leaving with you!”
“Text Trevor…he should be with Dom,” Lucy told Chloe.
“Trevor again,” Kirill muttered. Something about that guy irritated Kirill.
“What’s your beef with him?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah, comrade, he helped us piece this together,” I said.
“He did?” Lucy smiled. But the way Kirill’s face darkened at his wife’s smile was giving me an inkling about his annoyance at the guy.
Chloe looked up from her phone. “Trevor said he’s about to come get me. I’ll—”
“I’ll take you,” I said. Trevor seemed like a savior every time the women needed something.
“I’m not sure—” Lucy started.
“Leave them,” Kirill snapped. “I’m not having you rush off to Trevor when I was the one who was out of my mind with worry.”
Yep, he was jealous, and I wanted to laugh, but held it in.
Lucy must have noticed my glee in carting off Chloe and her apparent reluctance for being at my mercy, so she warned, “You better deliver her straight to Trevor.”
My answer was to shoot her my best serial killer smile.
When Chloe and I were alone on the spiral staircase, I taunted, “I expected a warmer reception.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” She refused to look at me.
Well, I fucking did. I halted our progress down the steps and turned her to face me. “It’s good to see you, princess.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” she whispered. “Was I a job?”
Hmm…what to tell her. “You have nothing to fear from the bratva. And I don’t do contract killings.”
“That’s not a direct answer,” she snapped.
“Is everything all right here?” a voice said from the bottom of the staircase.
Fucking Trevor Hayes. His gaze bounced between me and Chloe. Suspicion etched on his face.
And just like that, it wasn’t simply an inkling, but I understood Kirill’s problem with this prick.
With my limited exposure to him, I’d determined he was efficient, and he had a chivalrous air about him that clashed with the morally black cloud swirling around our bratva.
It was as if Chloe walked from darkness into light when she rushed toward him.
“I’m fine now.” The relief and smile on her face made me want to chain her to my side.
Did she really think I was going to hurt her?
Not that my reputation didn’t precede me.
Absolved of the Mistress Strangler killings, I still had my role as a weapon for the Russian mafia.
I was certain the De Luccis had shared this knowledge with Chloe.
But Chloe Brown could wait. She was a fun distraction and the bratva came first, specifically to clean up the mess in the mansion. Hmm…maybe I could snoop around too and discover what other secrets the Kings kept.
Unfortunately, I found nothing useful that related to Jeremiah King’s secret life as the Mistress Strangler. No trove of souvenirs or pictures of his victims. So all we had on him was matching the profile and his Mercedes parked at the scene of his last victim.
Anya Davenport.
Anya betrayed the bratva by working with Jeremiah King, just so she could prevent a marriage between Kirill and Chloe. She betrayed Bruce Davenport, her husband, who was the executor of the anonymous trust that would secure the four percent shares for Chloe.
Yes, dear Anya set Chloe Brown in my sights, saying she was a threat to the bratva and I always investigated these threats.
I sighed. I hadn’t fucked a woman since Chloe. Partly because it was inconvenient to do a background check, but mostly because I was in jail and I preferred to fuck my fist thinking back to our filthy weekend together.
She looked prim and proper now, the mother of my child.
But I knew beneath that emerald green tailored suit she wore for her meeting this morning hid glorious tits I had squeezed and nipples I’d sucked and nipped.
Her ass filled my palms perfectly and seemed to have grown rounder because I fucked my kid inside her.
I did that.
She was forever altered because of me.
I wasn’t done with Chloe Brown.
We were far from done.