Chapter Nine
Ivan
Leaving my penthouse yesterday morning, my mood was nothing like the last time I had been there with a woman.
All alone with her. Not sharing her with anyone.
It was just me and Susan or whatever her name was. After a few vodkas, her name became a blur. So, it could be Susan or it just started with an S. I have no idea, and I’ll probably never remember her name.
What I do remember is how I felt after spending the night with that woman.
Like shit, would be one way of putting it.
It wasn’t her looks. I liked her slender body. She was 5’7 with shapely legs and a pretty face.
It was her attitude after we were done. Somehow, that woman thought we had started a relationship. I don’t do relationships; it’s been years since I was in one. She started planning what we would do, like where we’d have dinner and where we’d go for drinks. She mentioned her favorite places, insisting that we should visit them often if I wanted her to be happy.
One would think this would be the whole problem.
No such luck.
This was just part of the problem. The rest had to do with her affection for jewelry, which was funny because she didn’t have any on. She just had this sparkly, faux ring on her finger, and said I was lucky. When I asked why, she said, “Because I prefer silver over gold. It suits me better and it’s cheaper, so you won’t have to spend thousands and thousands to spoil me.”
That was all she wrote.
Just like that, my erection and my desire to spend more time with her in bed went out the window.
I drove Susan back to her apartment and told her I wasn’t going to call her again. I never liked gold diggers. The idea of being with someone who wanted to be in complete control didn’t sit well with me. In other words, she was everything I’d been avoiding for years. I wasn’t going to make the mistake of keeping her in my life.
With Clare, things were so much different.
Right from the start, I felt the urge to pamper that woman. To touch her all over. To kiss her in places I knew nobody had before. To hold her in my arms and make her shiver with desire. And after we were done, to lay down and let her rest her head on my chest. I wanted to be nice—a gentleman—to her. I don’t get that feeling often.
I’ve forgotten the last time I allowed a woman to cuddle with me. It didn’t even happen when Leonid and I spent a night with Katia, the wife of a Mexican drug dealer. My brother loves to look back on this particular memory; she reminded him of the women back in Moscow.
Almost six feet tall with long blonde hair and green eyes, Katia had looked fantastic. I, on the other hand, don’t think that encounter was worth remembering. There was nothing special about it. There was no intimacy. No warmth. I had both with Clare.
My conclusions make me go through the day, wondering about a few things.
First of all, can I have this again? Not just the sex, although I know it’s going to be fantastic. Is this going to complicate my life in the Bratva?
Stupid, Ivan...
That is a ridiculous question. The answer is a big fat “yes.” Just like Leonid, I am surrounded by people who would kill to get their hands on my job. Ruthless fuckers that would hurt me through someone close to me, like Clare. If they catch wind of her, they will try to take her out. I don’t want that for her. Clare Jensen deserves better than a psychopath shooting her in the head just to get to me.
For once, I need company. I need to talk to someone, because all this crap has been swirling in my mind for hours. It doesn’t matter what I do; I’ll still think of Clare and how great it was to have her, even for one night. Even sharing her with Leonid.
The red and blue lights of Tammy’s Bar are flashing in the dark. Unlike my brother, I prefer smaller and less conspicuous places than his Blue Dolphin. This one is on the outskirts of the city, well away from the areas we control.
Loosening my tie, I stroll in and tip my head to Catherine, the barmaid. Gary Moore’s “Empty Rooms” is oozing from the speakers, the low volume satisfying me. I hate it when I walk into a place that’s loud.
“Evening, Ivan,” Catherine says, welcoming me with a polite smile. “How are things?”
“Complicated,” I answer. “And don’t tell me you’re surprised. I won’t believe you.”
She flashes me a grin. “I’m not. The usual?”
“Yes.”
“Coming right up.”
I hop on a stool, looking up at the overhead spotlights. I rub my forehead and lower my gaze to the dark-brown counter before I breathe a long sigh. More often than not, I’m in a relaxed mood when I visit Tammy’s bar. But not tonight. There’s a lot weighing on my mind. It’s not just work; that part I can manage. It may give me a headache sometimes, but there’s a solution to every problem.
“I thought it was you.” A gruff voice interrupts my thoughts.
A look to the left reveals nothing more than a few empty stools and the rear of the red sign of Tammy’s bar. A glance to the right reveals Dmitri, wearing a casual smile as he crosses the hall. His blond hair is easily two shades darker in this pale illumination, his black leather jacket tight across the chest.
“Nice to see you, Ivan,” he says, taking up the stool next to mine. “Do you come here often? Because this is my first time, and I must say I like it.”
“I like this place, too,” I admit as Catherine sets a full glass of vodka on the rocks in front of me. “Your drinks are on me tonight.”
“They are?” He squints, leaning his elbows on the counter.
“Yes,” I say with a nod, then turn to Catherine. “My friend here needs a refill.”
“Sure thing,” she says, picking up his almost empty glass.
“I have a problem, and I need your help,” I tell Dmitri, my voice lower than usual. “A lot of shit’s been happening these days. There’s the Armenian thing, and on top of that, I really like this woman. I’ve never been in this position before. I always thought women were just a distraction, but now?” I stop talking and stare into the clear liquid in my glass. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“So...” He speaks in a whisper and throws glances around him before leaning over towards me. “Ivan Petrov is in love? Did I hear you right?”
“Call it whatever you like, Dmitri,” I say in a lazy voice before sending cold vodka washing over my tongue. “The problem is, I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect her in the future. Dating me will paint a bullseye on her back. It will also take some of my focus off business. I’ll probably start making mistakes. You know how much our Pakhan hates sloppiness.”
“Yes, I do.” Dmitri nods. “You don’t get to make more than one mistake with Yelchin. Fuck up a second time and you’re dead. So, what are you going to do with the woman? Ignore her?”
I shrug my shoulders, not really knowing how to respond. “What else can I do? Dating her will get both of us in trouble.”
“This from a man who starts trouble every chance he gets,” he teases, his grin returning. “Remember our beef with the Italians? How long’s it been? Three years? Four?”
I raise my gaze up to the ceiling to recall our little war against a smalltime gang of Italians. “Four.”
“Aren’t you the one who put an end to that when you lured them into our trap?” he asks. The memory brings a smile to my face. “You took four Italians out with that stunt. You plotted it and you carried it out with little help from me or anybody else.”
“Those Italians were too naive,” I say, reflecting on how I had led them into the trap Dmitri mentioned. “They found me drunk outside their favorite bar. I pretended I couldn’t walk, and they thought I’d be an easy target.”
“Then you outran them, and I picked you up with my BMW.” He chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.
“They fanned out to search for me,” I go on, images from those shootings flashing before my eyes. “I picked them off one by one. They were all dead within forty minutes.”
“Yeah, because they didn’t suspect a crazy Russian would shoot them from the backseat of a fancy car,” he adds, his eyes glinting with amusement. “And you want me to believe that this same Russian is afraid of dating someone because he might get in trouble? No, Ivan. I’m sorry, but I don’t buy that.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” I ask, assuming a serious tone.
“No, boss.” His answer comes fast. “I’m just saying you’re more afraid for her than you are for yourself. You’ve been targeted before; you’ll be targeted again. You know how to survive. She doesn’t.”
I have to hand it to him. He nailed it. Somehow, he found my real cause for concern.
“You’re right, Dmitri,” I say, offering him a nod of appreciation. “I know how to survive. I’ve been doing that for a long time. She’s not part of this world, though. Which means I must protect her, and I just don’t know if I can do that. I can’t be there all the time.”
“Ivan...” He says my name, patting me on the shoulder. “Whoever this woman is, she’s got you upset. She even made you want to talk about your issue. Face it; she’s important to you. And if she’s that important, I’m sure you’ll find ways to protect her.”
“You think so?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I give him a sideways glance.
“I know so,” he replies with a series of nods, “because I know my boss.”
I want to believe him. I want to put aside fear and have Clare in my life as something more than a sex toy. Sadly, even if I do, I can’t overlook the fact that my brother is interested in her, too. Whatever I decide, I must discuss this with Leonid. Going behind his back is not an option. I wouldn’t do that to my Bratva brother. I’m not going to betray his trust.