Chapter 25
DIMA
I force myself to stay put. She’s tied to a chair, chin lifted, eyes blazing, and every bit magnificent. Every instinct screams to scoop her into my arms and carry her out while my men stack bodies, but strategy has to come first. One wrong move and Karina, and our child, could pay the price.
As I stroll past her and drop onto the couch, giving the muted TV a cursory glance, I’m grateful no one in the bratva knows how deep this runs. That secrecy will make it easier to convince Piotr she isn’t a worthwhile bargaining chip, because he doesn’t know the truth.
“You shot my men,” Piotr accuses. He lowers the gun he had pointed at my wife’s head and strolls toward me.
“Technically, they were my men,” I say coolly. “But because they were also working for you, neither of us could trust them.”
“You got here quickly. How did you know I’m the one who has her?” he challenges. “Are you having me followed?”
“If I had you followed, we wouldn’t be in this room. There’d be no need for this tiresome scene.” I let boredom seep into my tone.
“Don’t tell me you saw this coming. I’m not that predictable or you wouldn’t have wasted all those years thinking I was your lapdog.”
“Even lapdogs have teeth; I know this,” I say. “I’m here so we can reach an understanding. You think capturing my bride will get you whatever you want.”
“Won’t it?”
“Hardly,” I scoff. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, or you’d have taken something of great value to me.”
“Your heir isn’t valuable?” he asks.
“An heir to the bratva would be a precious commodity, if there were one.”
“What do you mean?” he demands.
“She lost the baby. We went to her first appointment and there was no heartbeat. Why do you think she looks like shit? Miscarriage.” I shrug. Karina, predictably, makes an indignant noise. I keep my face neutral, not letting myself laugh at her outrage.
“So get her pregnant again,” he says. “Hardly an ugly chore. She’s got tits straight out of a porn flick, I damn near came in my pants the first time I saw her.”
I keep my disgust locked behind a blank mask even though every muscle itches to spring up and strangle him for daring to talk about her body. He’ll pay for the audacity soon enough.
“They’re not real,” I reply, voice flat with boredom.
“Who cares?” he says, turning to ogle her freely. “I like how the fake ones feel.”
“I don’t. But I should have known she’d be fake.”
“You’re telling me you’re not dying to knock her up again?” Piotr asks, incredulous.
“I’ve had better. And the truth is, you did me a favor.”
“What?”
“Look, I hate to admit this, especially if it reaches her father, but I married her for the network. An heir would’ve been smart for the organization, except she’s so goddamn annoying.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You son of a bitch!” she shrieks.
Somehow, my wife manages to give me the finger even with her hands zip tied behind her. I have to give her credit for sounding exactly like the screeching, insufferable bitch I claim she is. Still, it’s hilarious and we will have a good laugh over it once I get us out of here.
I don’t even look directly at her, giving Piotr all my attention. “You see what I have to deal with?” I say with a shake of my head like a long-suffering, henpecked husband in some old sitcom.
“She’s a lot less irritating when she’s quiet.
She shut up when I hit her in the face. Did you try that?
Maybe teach her some manners?” he suggests.
It takes a lot of willpower to keep my fists from clenching, to restrain myself so I don’t leap up and beat the shit out of him for saying it, much less for putting his hands on my wife.
“Doesn’t work for long,” I mutter, forcing the words out. I roll my eyes with exaggerated contempt.
“Huh. I figured a hot piece of ass like that would be easier to handle. Heard her old man sent her to college just to get her out of his hair. Always a mistake. They get uppity,” he says, giving a sage nod.
“Yeah, well, it hasn’t worked for me. Getting her off my hands gave me a break from the constant texts and calls complaining about everything in my mansion, acting like she owns the place. You can’t imagine how much work I finished without the interruptions.”
“I know, right? Ingrid was the same way last year, blew up my phone like it was her job. A man needs breathing space. Anyway, I get it now, brother. I’m sorry I went behind your back.
I needed cash because the ponies were running against me a couple years ago.
Had to cover my bets, you know?” he says, trying for humble.
As if any of this excuses violating the bratva’s oath, betraying me, and striking my wife.
“You could’ve come to me,” I tell him.
“I know, but I was embarrassed. I got carried away, like always, and ended up owing a fortune to the shitbag Kozlov syndicate, her dad’s outfit.
” He snorts, as if it’s their fault he lacks self-control.
“I’m sorry, old friend. Let me do you a favor to prove it.
I’ll kill her for you, then we can grab a drink.
My guys, our guys, will clean up the mess. ”
I nod. “You’ve got yourself a deal, brother,” I say, baring a rictus grin.
“You wanna take turns on her before I kill her, or just get it over with?” he offers. “We can leave her tied up so she doesn’t scratch us.”
“I’m thirsty. I want a bottle from the vault behind the bar, so let’s make it quick,” I say, sounding magnanimous. He nods eagerly and hands my gun back.
“Sorry about that. I should’ve trusted—” he starts.
Without hesitation, I put a bullet between his eyes before he can finish. For an instant Piotr looks stunned, then falls forward as I step back. I kick him heavily in the side as I walk past to free Karina.
My men take the cue and dispatch the thugs who backed him. Amid the carnage, rust-tinged air and dying groans, I snap the cable ties on my wife’s wrists and pull her into my arms. She lets out a single sob before stepping back.
“You okay?” I ask, scanning her face.
“I really have to pee,” she blurts, laughing on the ragged edge of hysteria.
“I’ll take you somewhere else,” I say, glancing at the slaughter around us.
“No, it’ll just take a second. I really can’t wait.”
She breaks for the bathroom and comes back in a minute shaking her head. “The sink is gold. The faucet’s a fucking swan. You won’t believe this shithole.”
“I’ve been here before,” I say, deadpan. “Thinking of buying it just so I can burn it down.”
She reaches for my hand, but I shake my head. “Come here,” I order, and to my surprise she obeys.
I bend, scoop her into my arms, and carry her through the ruined doorway to the elevator. “I’m not putting you down until we’re home,” I tell her. “If anything happened to you?—”
“It didn’t. You didn’t let him hurt me,” she says, voice steady. “I knew you’d come.”
“You better know by now I’d come for you. Always.”
“That’s sweet and all, but can you just keep me from getting kidnapped next time?” she teases.
“You’re just pissed I called your tits fake,” I tease back, reveling in how right she feels in my arms.
“They’re not.”
“Of course not. But he didn’t deserve to know that. I’m so sorry he ever laid a hand on you, Karinka.”
“You’ll just have to make it up to me.”
“I will. I promise. I’m so proud of you.”
“For scheduling the email? Or leaving the clue?”
“For holding back when you were dying to tell him he was an idiot with bad taste in hotels and worse taste in life choices.”
“That’s so much nicer than what I wanted to say, believe me. But I wanted to get home to you more than I wanted to insult him.”
“That’s a pretty strong declaration of love from you,” I say.
“It actually is.” She smiles. “But don’t think it means I won’t roast you every chance I get for all the shit you said about me.”
“I was lying!” I protest.
“I know, but I’ll get a ton of mileage out of it.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less. Whoever said pregnancy makes women gentle and maternal never met you.”
“I’m maternal! I’m going to be a fantastic mother.”
“Yes, you will. But first we’re calling my doctor to make sure there are no after-effects from whatever they used to knock you out.”
“How’d you know they knocked me out?”
“Why even ask? There were only three of them. No way they subdue you without visible injuries. They were spotless, so they must’ve drugged you to get you here.”
“Is it wrong that I love that you know that about me?” She beams.
“I love you,” I say.
She stares at me for a second, tears welling in her eyes. She then nestles her head against my shoulder, and I cradle her close, grateful for every second we have.
“I love you too.”