Chapter Six
Kreos
I could sense her fear, like a shark sensing blood in the water. Her green eyes widened, then blazed with fire when she realized it was me.
God, she was fucking beautiful when she was angry. Her pouty red lips were begging to be kissed. Devoured. To be made mine.
Fury ran through me as I gripped her wrist and dragged her to my car. “Get in the fucking car, now,” I said through clenched teeth.
Her eyes narrowed, as if she was unsure of what to do. The look on my face must have convinced her not to put up a fight, and she slid into the backseat. I climbed in behind her and slammed the door. Her perfume, light and sexy as fuck, permeated the car. I slid the divider up so my driver couldn’t smell her.
Nobody got to smell her perfume except me.
I didn’t know what I was madder about, the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about her, or the fact that she was wearing next to nothing, flaunting her body all night while she worked.
In reality, what I should have been mad about was that fucking FBI agent. The cameras I’d had installed in Alora’s apartment while she and Dove were in my Manhattan penthouse didn’t pick up the view from the hallway. I hadn’t seen Alora’s face, but her posture told me the agent was unwelcome.
Gavriil had looked into it after he grilled me incessantly regarding Alora. “I can’t advise you if you don’t tell me everything.”
The truth was, this time, I didn’t want his input. I knew I wouldn’t like it. I’d told him what he needed to know and affirmed I had it under control.
Turned out the FBI agent was working on Dove’s case. I was surprised Alora hadn’t told me. Of course, why would she? I was a monster to her and her sister. That didn’t sit well with me. I was a lot of things, but I’d never laid a hand on a woman. I wasn’t like my father and uncles, far from it. It repulsed me to think about what Dove had gone through.
Per usual, the incompetent agents at the FBI had no leads and no viable intel. At my request, Gavriil agreed to dive deeper into it.
There was so much work to be done, and yet I found myself constantly checking the video feed in her apartment. I’d had Sago install cameras in her unit—everywhere except the bathroom, of course, because I wasn’t a fucking deviant. It was for her own protection. She belonged to me, and I protected all my valuable belongings. No one else had access to the camera feed, or knew what I’d done, other than Sago, and I trusted him just as much as I did Gavriil.
I kept tabs on her throughout the day, ensuring no one bothered or touched her. She was always on the move, going to the art studio, taking photos, buying groceries.
She was working too much. Exhausting herself.
And I didn’t like it.
But that wasn’t why I was here .
“What the hell is going on?” She scooted further down the seat, closer to the other door.
I clenched my jaw and calmed myself. Now that she was in my car and nobody could see her voluptuous body, there was no reason to be upset. “This is what you like to do for work? Flaunt your body for money?”
The question caught her off guard. She opened and closed her mouth, no words coming out. “Is that why you scared the shit out of me and dragged me in here? Because you don’t like my outfit choice?” Her voice rose with each word, and I could see she wasn’t scared anymore.
She was angry.
Perfect. I enjoyed the fiery look in her eyes. Anything less would be boring.
“No, that’s not why I’m here.” I leaned back and straightened my tie.
“Good, because I can do anything I want with my body. You have no say in that.”
“Not anymore. I own you, remember?” I cocked my head to the side, enjoying the flush rising up her neck to her cheeks.
“You can’t be serious,” she scoffed.
“Deadly.”
“What? I’m not allowed to show my cleavage now? Because that makes my master upset?”
“Precisely.”
“You’re insane.” She enunciated each word with a wave of her hands. “It’s too late for this. I’m exhausted, and I want to go home.” She jiggled the door handle, but of course it wouldn’t open.
“You’ll go when I say you can.”
“Oh, yes, sir.” She gave me a little salute and rolled her eyes.
My cock stirred when she called me sir. Just like all those years ago when she’d called me that and I’d wanted to rip off all her clothes.
“If you want to act like a brat, then I’ll treat you like one.” I steepled my fingers and held her gaze.
The car was silent. I could see the question on her lips, but she was too chicken to say anything back. She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a small huff.
“Why was there an FBI agent at your apartment?”
Her face twisted with confusion, as if she was trying to figure out how I knew about that. Then a splash of fear.
“It’s not what you think,” she blurted. “Dove—something happened to her a few months ago. It’s a federal case now. That agent is trying to help her.” There was a slight irritation in her tone when she said the last bit.
Interesting.
“I didn’t tell her anything about you. I won’t. Neither will Dove. I promise.”
“You understand what will happen if you lie, correct? If you disobey me?”
She bit her bottom lip, then nodded.
I reached over and slid a piece of her hair behind her ear. I trailed my fingers down her cheek and gripped her chin. “Use your words, Alora.”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I understand.”
“Good.” I released her chin. “There’s nowhere you can run where I won’t find you.” I let the threat hang in the air for a moment before unlocking the door. “I’ll follow you to make sure you get home safe.”
She threw the door open, almost stumbling over her feet to get out. When she reached her car, I rolled down my window and called her name. I held her knife in the palm of my hand, and she snatched it with a glare.
“Night, kotic .” I rolled the window back up.
I had my driver follow behind her. Her neighborhood was a complete dump. The thought of her living here with all these vile transients made my skin crawl.
Knowing that she wouldn’t be living here for much longer put a smile on my face. I tapped the glass twice on the divider, indicating to my driver to take me home.
*** ***
“Come on, pussy. That’s all you got?” Gavriil taunted as he circled me in the ring.
“You know how much I enjoy playing with my food.” I threw a right hook, missing his jaw by an inch.
“Speaking of—Miss Wolfe seems to be hard up for money. She took a few things to a pawnshop last night.” He used that moment of distraction to kick the side of my knee, and I grunted with irritation.
I’d already known about the pawnshop. And since I’d cloned her phone and had access to all her texts, I’d figured out why. Her lowlife sibling had stolen from her, and now she needed money. He was in hiding—he and Whistler’s crew had gone underground and hadn’t been seen. I was sure that had everything to do with them finding out who they’d stolen from. I wasn’t a good enemy to have. And now the entire crew was on my shit list.
I’d keep my word, though. I wouldn’t lay a hand on Dylan. The rest of his crew wouldn’t be so lucky. Someone was going to pay for what had transpired at that safe house. I needed to know if the Cruel, or someone else, was responsible for that explosion.
“Stop trying to distract me. Did Cheslav set up the cameras on the trails?”
After someone had tried to access his files from somewhere on my estate, I’d added more security. My estate was over fifty acres, and there had been a few blind spots on some of the cameras I wasn’t happy about. Now nobody was going to get in or out of here without me knowing about it.
“It’s taken care of.” He grunted when my left hook landed, cursing under his breath. “Time,” he panted. “That’s it, I’m done.”
I chuckled and grabbed two towels from over the cage, tossed him one. We’d been at it for over an hour, since six a.m. As the saying went, the early bird got the worm, but it also planned the destruction of its enemies.
“I need you to look into Deputy Mayor Wilson.” I leaned against the cage and wiped the sweat off my chest. “He’s holding up the license approval for Club Void. We need to see who’s encouraged him to step out of line.”
“Hm, I thought he understood his place?”
“As did I. Something’s changed, and I want to know what. Did you see his reaction when I mentioned Club Mayhem at the licensing board meeting? His eye twitched, and he stuttered when he responded. Check with Bela first. I want to know if he’s been to Mayhem recently.”
If he had any secrets he wanted to hide, I would find them. I would show him what happened when he fucked with my money.
“What’s Aleksandr’s status?” As he was one of my most trusted captains, I’d sent him to Toronto to manage the shipping and trucking company I’d be using as a front for my weapons trafficking. I’d already spoken with my suppliers to increase production fivefold, promising them a bigger market.
“He’s set up a company and started to facilitate weapons transport. The agent at CBSA was easy to bribe—he had over one hundred grand in gambling debt, so he was very cooperative.”
“Excellent.” I pushed off the cage and hopped down the stairs. “I want an update on Wilson this afternoon. I’ve no time for his disobedience.”
“What about Miss Wolfe?” Gavriil arched his eyebrow.
He already knew what I wanted, but was going to be a prick about it. “Get her stuff from the shop and bring it to me.”
“If you’re planning on doing what I think you are, it could create some problems with your father.” His tone was serious, but I dismissed him with a wave of my hand.
“I’ll handle my father.” He of all people would never stop me from getting what I wanted.
And I wanted Alora Wolfe.
I’d already decided to marry her. She just didn’t know it yet. I’d witnessed firsthand her devotion to her family, and I had no doubt she would make the perfect wife and mother to my children.
I spent the morning scanning intelligence reports and holding secure video conferences with my Vors. Each one of my men reported to me with military precision. I relied on them to carry out my orders and stay on guard for potential threats from our rivals and law enforcement, who, for the most part, were in my pocket.
Money flowed from every outlet. Guns, drugs, gambling, blackmail and extortion—you name it, I ran it. I also had several legitimate businesses other than my clubs, including Zokrov Capital, a private equity and wealth management firm I used to legitimize and invest my illicit gains.
Then there were the other private financial firms I owned a forty-nine percent stake in through a complex web of shell companies and offshore accounts. None of which could be tied back to me, but all of which made me extremely wealthy and powerful.
My Vors and I managed all of this like a well-oiled machine. When issues did arise, like this morning when a mid-level dealer skimmed some product, sometimes I took a hands-on approach. More often than not, though, I delegated it to my enforcers. And although I relished in the fact that I’d earned a reputation for serving cruel punishments to those who crossed me—from getting creative with a blowtorch or blade, to setting entire industrial complexes on fire—today I had more pressing matters to attend to.
The glass doors to Constantine’s suite swooshed open, the sterile scent of antiseptic mixed with flowers hitting me in the face. I nodded at the nurse to step out so I could spend some time with my brother. After he was pronounced comatose, I’d moved him to my estate where he could get the care he needed without the threat of assassination .
It was almost hard to believe. The great Constantine Zokrov, master sniper, brutal enforcer, lay motionless in bed. Heart monitors and other machines beeped in the background, making sure you didn’t forget that he wasn’t here with us.
State-of-the-art medical equipment lined one wall, while floor-to-ceiling windows opposite offered a view of the garden. Not that it mattered. He hadn’t opened his eyes since that night in the hospital. Constantine had always been five steps ahead of our enemies. He had a sixth sense that had thwarted multiple attempts on my life. So how come he hadn’t seen this coming?
He’d been brought in as a John Doe, found unconscious in an alley with a gunshot wound to the shoulder. The bullet had gone through and through, missing any arteries. They’d performed a CT scan and found he had a mild concussion, which was why he was confused and in and out of consciousness.
By all accounts, he was fine. It wasn’t until the morning rounds that they’d found him comatose. During a shift change, one of the nurses on our payroll recognized him and contacted Gavriil right away.
When I got him home, our personal doctor took over. But that just left us with more questions. Because all the tests revealed he was fine. The brain scans, the toxicology report—there was nothing wrong with him on paper.
He just wasn’t waking up.
I wouldn’t stop looking for answers until he did. Someone had gotten to him, and they were going to pay.
My gaze fell to his face. He looked peaceful, and exactly the same as when I’d visited days ago. His chest rose and fell, the ventilator’s background noise a constant reminder. I sat down next to his bed and gripped his hand.
Gavriil came by an hour later with two manila folders. “I’ve got news.”
I opened the first folder, finding transcripts from a recent licensing board meeting. Deputy Mayor Wilson had raised numerous objections regarding approval for Club Void’s license, including concerns regarding noise pollution and crime rates.
Behind the transcripts were personal emails between Wilson and the owners of two upscale clubs. My competitors were paying him off for blocking my license. Seeing how I’d already paid him off earlier that year, it looked like he was trying to play both sides.
Well, that was going to be a problem.
“Do we have potential replacements lined up for him?” I handed the folder back to Gavriil.
“We do. Assistant Deputy Mayor Helena Frank is on board should Wilson—step down.” His jaw clenched, and he handed me the other folder. “But more drastic measures may be needed.”
I opened the folder to a pile of photos. They were of women posed in various positions, mostly sexual. In some photos, Wilson was also participating. Something was off about their eyes, though. “Are these women…?”
“Dead? Yes, they are.” His face twisted in disgust. “I’ve gathered that most are prostitutes. Some are runaways. Bela confirmed he’d been to the club. He saw two different women there. Both stated he had disturbing tastes.”
Looked like I was going to pay a personal visit to the deputy mayor and handle him myself .
The door swooshed open and my head housekeeper, Anya, walked in with Nadya limping closely behind her. Anya, who was in her late sixties and oversaw my house staff, had worked for my father since I was a child, and had come with me to the States when I was in my teens. Nadya had also come from my father’s estate and had been with me five years or so.
“My apologies, Pakhan.” Anya’s hand flew to her chest. “The nurse said you would be done visiting, and we came to clean Mr. Constantine’s room.”
“Not to worry, Anya. We were just on our way out.” I stood and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Anya was closer to a mother than my mother was.
“Go on, Nadya, put the flowers down and get started.” Anya clapped her hands, and Nadya limped over to the other side of the room.
“Those are beautiful, Nadya. I’m sure Constantine would appreciate them.” I nodded at the vases in her hands. Her eyes widened, her cheeks turning red as she nodded and placed the flowers down.
In the hallway, Gavriil chuckled, shaking his head. “That girl is terrified of her own shadow. It’s amazing she’s lasted this long here.”
“Nadya? She worked for my father. God knows what he put her through.” The thought reminded me that my father would come here in a few short weeks and my irritation returned. “Let’s go pay Wilson a visit.”
*** ***
It was close to midnight by the time Deputy Mayor Wilson got home to his lavish condo in Crown Heights. He fumbled with his keys, dropping them more than once before stumbling inside.
I sat relaxed in his expensive chesterfield armchair as he dropped his suitcase by the front door. He flipped the lights on in the living room and stripped off his wrinkled suit jacket. He saw me then and froze.
“Good evening, Deputy Mayor Wilson.” I swirled a glass of Scotch, smirking at how wide his eyes had gotten.
“Mr. Zokrov. What—how did you get in here?” His head snapped to the right as Gavriil came from the kitchen holding a manila folder, Sago following behind him.
“I’m confused, Deputy Mayor. I’ve paid you handsomely to ensure there are no issues with my licenses. Yet you’re the one holding up their approval.” I took a sip of the Scotch, enjoying the burn going down my throat.
“I can explain.” He took a step back, holding up his hands.
“No need. I already know. I know everything.”
Gavriil laid out the photos on the coffee table. The deputy mayor paled, his face now covered with perspiration. He took notice of the black leather gloves I wore and wiped his forehead.
I stood and walked slowly around the living room, stopping to admire a painting on the wall. “You know, in this life, there’s a certain expectation of dishonesty. Corruption, greed, betrayal, thievery—it’s a given in this line of work. But you know what truly disgusts me?” The question hung in the air for a moment. I turned to face the now trembling deputy, who looked as if he might faint at any moment.
“It’s men who prey on the innocent and vulnerable and then think their power shields them from consequences. Thieves, I can understand. But this”—I pointed to the photos—“this doesn’t deserve understanding. This deserves something far more ruthless.”
It was then he noticed the rope hanging from the beam in the ceiling. I tugged on the noose, making sure it was stable.
“Mr. Zokrov, please, no. I’ll get the license approved first thing in the morning. I’m sorry, it’s just a misunderstanding—”
I held up my hand, shaking my head. “Miles, this has nothing to do with the license anymore.”
“Then I have information I can offer,” he stammered. “A man, Ivanov, he’s been hanging around trying to get information on you. He says he’s going to be the new boss in town.” He turned to Gavriil, his eyes pleading. “That’s good info, right? That’s got to be worth something.”
“Not really.” I chuckled as he made a beeline for the door. Sago reached him in three strides and wrapped his arm around his neck. After a few heartbeats, Wilson stopped struggling and slowly sank to the floor.
Sago dragged him over and placed the noose around his neck. Gavriil helped to hoist him up, and when he was in place, Sago snapped the ammonia salt under his nose. Wilson woke with a gasp, and Gavriil yanked on the rope to get his attention.
“Now, Miles, they’re going to step away, so you better hold yourself up.”
His eyes widened as they let go of him, and he balanced on shaking legs on the edge of the chair. His eyes traveled from the rope in Gavriil’s hands to the beam, then down to where his own hands gripped the rope around his neck. “Please don’t do this. I’ll do anything, I promise.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen. Instead of me torturing you to death like you deserve, you’re going to jump off this chair and hang yourself. I’ve got too much going on right now, and I don’t want the headache of a possible murder investigation hanging over my head, especially when I’m trying to plan a wedding. Now, I must warn you, you will choke to death. The rope will not break your neck. That rarely happens.”
“Please,” he begged, snot and tears dripping down his face. “I’m sorry, please don’t do this.”
Ignoring his pleas, I sat on the edge of the chesterfield. “Believe me, I would love nothing more than to strangle you with my bare hands, but the bruising would give it away. We can kick the chair, or you can be a man for the first time in your pathetic life and jump. What will it be?”
“Please,” he cried.
“For fuck’s sake.” Gavriil rolled his eyes and kicked the chair from underneath him. “What did I tell you about playing with your food?”
The deputy mayor’s body jerked, twisting and flailing as he gripped the rope. His face distorted, turning red as his eyes bulged. It was disturbing to watch, but I refused to turn away. I wanted my face to be the last thing he saw before he died.
“The photos?” Gavriil asked.
“Put them out of sight, but where they’ll be easily found.”
I wasn’t a good man, nor had I ever claimed to be.
But I wasn’t like the deputy director. Or the Cruel.
I wasn’t a depraved monster.
I ran this city with an iron fist, and nobody was exempt from my wrath if they broke the rules.
“One more thing,” Gavriil said as we rode back to my estate. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and passed it to me. “Thought you might be interested in this.”
I unfolded the paper, glaring at what I saw.
Looked like Miss Wolfe had decided to be a brat after all.
At least I was looking forward to her punishment.