33. Chapter 33 #2
So I pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head instead and shifted slightly beneath her.
“Stay here for a bit,” I murmured. “I’ll have someone bring you coffee.”
Her voice was softer now, muffled against my chest. “You’re setting a dangerous precedent.”
I snorted. “I know.”
“And I’m absolutely going to take advantage of it.”
Warmth filled my chest. I could absolutely get used to this.
“I expect nothing less.”
Addy huffed softly against my chest. Before she could say anything else, however, there was a faint buzzing sound coming from somewhere in the sheets between us.
She paused.
“Is that my phone?”
I didn’t move, just watched as she twisted slightly, reaching blindly until her fingers closed around it. The screen lit up, casting a soft glow across her face.
Ah, the mysterious friend from the grocery store. Well, not so mysterious after I had my people look into her.
“From the grocery store,” she added, like she could feel the weight of my attention sharpening. “The one I told you about?”
I hummed quietly, as if I was just putting the pieces together.
“And she’s texting you?”
“Yeah.” Addy’s lips twitched faintly. “Do I have permission, or do I need to submit a formal request?”
A corner of my mouth lifted. “Depends. What does she want?”
“She’s asking if I want to meet up. Coffee, I think.” She glanced down at the screen again. “Or something stronger, judging by the emoji situation.”
I watched her for a moment, taking her in. Addy’s posture had shifted — she was more awake and engaged now.
“Time, location, everything gets sent to me.”
She rolled her eyes lightly. “Of course it does.”
“And you don’t go anywhere with her after.”
“Feels a little intense for coffee.”
I scoffed. “It’s not about the coffee.”
She studied me for a second. “You think she’s dangerous?”
“I think I don’t know her,” I corrected.
Everything I was able to dig up about this woman was unremarkable. She seemed completely and utterly normal. Still didn’t mean I’d trust her any time soon.
“And that’s enough?”
“Yes.”
A beat passed, then she nodded slowly. “Okay.”
She looked back down at her phone and started typing quickly.
“Just promise me to be careful who you let close to you.”
Her lips curved in a soft but confident smile. “You mean like you?”
The corner of my mouth twitched. “Exactly like me.”
But somehow, it didn’t seem to concern her nearly as much as it should have.
Real power was quieter than most people thought. It occupied space without asking permission. I’d never expected Puerto Rico to be the throne I’d ascend to once I was free. But now I was here, failure was not an option.
The island was useful — a strategic artery feeding other operations without attracting the kind of attention inviting federal curiosity. My uncle had understood this before anyone else, which was why I had been sent here.
It certainly wasn’t because I was his favorite. It burned down to me being expendable in theory and effective in practice.
My uncle, Nikolai, was pakhan. He had inherited the title legitimately — through legitimate bloodlines. I was his brother’s bastard. The son born in the wrong bed, at the wrong time, to the wrong woman.
Titles weren’t handed to men like me. We had to conquer them, prove ourselves and earn everything we wanted through violence and restraint.
By the time he’d allowed me to break out, I’d already earned enough loyalty to make ignoring me inconvenient. I didn’t ask for my rank. I merely made myself indispensable enough to earn it.
Now, standing in a shady office overlooking a marina we technically controlled but had not yet fully asserted our authority over, I was reminded how indifferent territory was to bloodlines.
It cared about who had the most power.
“They’re testing the perimeter,” Kyrill informed me from the window, watching the docks with a seemingly careless but actually attentive gaze. “Small shipments. Nothing dramatic.”
“They want a reaction from us.”
Kyrill nodded. “They want to see if you’ll react like your uncle.”
I didn’t look at him, contemplating my options. “And if I don’t?”
“Then they will assume you are weak.”
Even though they knew I wasn’t in charge of the entire operation, they were looking for any weaknesses in our defenses. They wanted to see how far they could push it before the possibility of an all-out war arose. This was about more than just dock access.
It was about whether the men here believed I could protect what I had claimed.
You asked for this territory. Prove it belongs to you.
I could still hear my uncle’s voice echoing through my head from our last call.
Prove myself I would. At least this was familiar territory; proving myself is what I’d been doing for a decade in Blackwood.
Nikolai didn’t need to say more.
If I mishandled this, I wouldn’t embarrass myself — I’d embarrass him.
And that was not survivable.
Kyrill crossed the room and leaned against the desk with his arms folded. “We could escalate.”
“Yes.”
“You’re hesitating.”
“No.”
He watched me, a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. “You are.”
Kyrill was used to being my voice of reason, my sounding board. Having grown up in Russia, he understood the Bratva’s internal workings better than most. About unspoken expectations and customs.
He was invaluable to me for this reason alone and had become my best friend during our years together at Blackwood. Aside from Addy, he was the one person in the world who knew me inside out.
He was my right-hand man, my enforcer, the fist executing my orders.
I finally looked at him. “I’m calculating.”
Kyrill shrugged one massive shoulder. “Same thing.”
I chose to ignore that.
Escalation would have been easy. Direct. Clean. A show of force sharp enough to end speculation. It would also have dragged attention toward the marina, toward the villa, toward everything I was trying to stabilize before it deteriorated further.
And toward her.
Addy. My little devil who knew the names of each and every one of her guards. Who baked muffins for my men. Who smiled at criminals who had buried bodies and would do so again.
She didn’t understand how quickly friendliness could be weaponized.
Or perhaps she did and simply refused to adjust.
“She went to the warehouse again,” Kyrill said casually, a smile pulling at his lips.
I sighed. “I know.”
“She brought muffins.”
“I know.”
This time she had baked blueberry muffins and I was slightly pissed I didn’t get any. They were my favorites.
“You know, the cooks begged me to ask you to ban her from the kitchens.” Kyrill chortled.
My gaze snapped in his direction. “Really? Why?”
“Apparently…” He chuckled. “The kitchen looks like a fucking tornado blew through every time she bakes. They spend hours cleaning shit up.”
I winced. Yeah, that tracked. I loved this girl, but she was chaos personified.
“Remind me to give them a raise. I don’t think I’ve got the heart to ban her from the kitchens.”
“Weak.” Kyrill snorted.
I shook my head. “You wait until you find your girl. Then we’ll fucking see.”
He rolled his eyes and then studied me for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re distracted.”
“I’m not.” I glared at him.
“Your girl … she’s not built for sidelines.”
I stepped around the desk slowly. “She will remain on the sidelines.”
Kyrill’s mouth curved slightly. “You sound confident.”
“That’s because I fucking am.”
He tilted his head. “She walked into a secured warehouse full of armed men for fun.”
“That was different.”
“Was it?”
Yes.
No.
It was a warehouse on my compound, under my control and at least I had been fucking there.
This marina dispute was anything but controlled. It was about pride and perception, and men who measured respect in terms of retaliation.
On paper, the situation was straightforward. My uncle had taken this territory cleanly, decisively and efficiently months ago. The docks, the marina routes and the inbound shipments coming through this port were now under Bratva control. It was my responsibility. My problem.
The local familia — the same men we’d encountered at the boutique — hadn’t taken it well. They had held this ground for generations and, while they had lost it on paper, men like this did not simply accept defeat.
They still held significant power here and they weren’t openly challenging — not yet — but pressing nonetheless. Testing and waiting for weakness on our part.
I could respect that. We’d do the same if the situation was reversed.
But then our shipments started getting hit.
Every single one was delayed or disrupted in some way. Containers were rerouted, manifests were altered and deliveries arrived either half-empty or not at all. It’s enough to hurt business. Enough to send a message.
Conveniently, the finger of blame was pointing straight at them.
This dispute was spiraling out of control. If the Bratva looked weak here — if I looked weak — this territory wouldn’t stay mine for long.
I was doing my best to avoid an all-out war, but sometimes there simply was no conversation to be had. Sometimes all you had left was action to get your point across.
Addy did not yet understand there were times when it was impossible to avoid spilling blood.
“She assumes people are people,” Kyrill continued. “Not factions.”
“That assumption will get her killed.”
“And you?”
I held his gaze. “I will not allow that.”
He exhaled softly. “You can’t cage her, bratan.”
“I’m not caging her,” I snarled.
“You’re attempting to.” He shrugged. “Same difference.”
As always, there was no accusation in his tone; he was merely observing.
“She’s my weakness,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Those sure are inconvenient.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”
“And fatal, if mishandled.”
“Yes.”
There was a pregnant pause. Kyrill was one of the few people in this world who truly understood what was going on inside me.
My best friend pushed off the desk. “At least she’s with you.”
“For now.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “You think she will betray you?”
“I think she will try to help in one way or another.”
“Ah.” He walked toward the door, then paused. “We’re dealing with very different problems.”
“All I know is, you’ve got several,” I teased, raising an eyebrow mockingly.
“Fucker,” he grumbled. “My problem isn’t having weakness. At least not right now. Mine is … really fucking shitty timing.”
“That’s vague.”
“There is someone,” he said slowly, like he was weighing every word. “Connected to … wrong people.”
I studied him more intensely now.
“Don’t tell me you’re fucking the enemy,” I groaned.
Kyrill glared at me. “I did not fucking say that.”
“You implied it.” I pointed at him accusingly.
“I imply nothing. I’m merely observing how inconvenient loyalties can be sometimes.”
“You’re an idiot.”
He smiled faintly. “Possibly.”
“You’re aware,” I said slowly, “Romeo and Juliet is not an instruction manual.”
“They had really, really poor communication,” he shot back. “I plan to improve on that.”
I stared at him, shaking my head slightly.
Kyrill shrugged. “What? You brought home an American with no survival instinct.”
“She has survival instinct.”
He snorted. “Whatever it is she has, it is … unconventional.”
“Well, lucky for you, she’s not your problem.”
Kyrill’s eyes lit up with amusement and he chuckled. “Nah. She is yours.”
Damn right she was.
I moved toward the window and looked down at the marina. Some of our men were out there moving crates and I could see boats shifting in and out of the dock space that technically fell under our control but which was not yet fully respected as such.
Respect here was fragile and had to be earned through actions.
And I was calculating how much blood it would take to solidify mine.
Behind me, Kyrill spoke up again, quieter this time. “You know if you escalate, they will respond.”
“Yeah.”
“If they respond, there will be noise.”
“Yes.”
“And noise attracts curiosity.”
“I’m aware.”
“And curiosity—”
“I know what curiosity attracts,” I cut in.
Federal attention. Local alliances. Unwanted scrutiny.
And, with my fucking luck, Addy will wander into the wrong place because she mistook tension for an invitation.
I turned back to him. “She stays out of this.”
Kyrill studied my face for a long moment. “You can try telling her that.”
“You think she will listen?”
We both snorted, because even he knew the answer was no. I just had to fucking go and fall for the most stubborn, open woman on earth.
Sighing, I looked at the marina again and made a decision.
We would have to respond. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. It would be a measured and controlled strike, not brutal enough to invite war, but hard enough to remind them we were here to play ball.
And I would need to tighten security at the villa … discreetly.
Addy didn’t need to know the extent of the upheaval unfolding around her. The only thing more dangerous than a rival challenging my authority was that I had already identified the one pressure point capable of undoing it.