Chapter 3
Three
“ B urn it to the ground.”
Hiro, my second-in-command, nods his head silently, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he goes to one of the SUVs to grab the spare gasoline we keep in the back. Fucking pyro. I knew he would delight in fulfilling my order if I asked him to make it nothing more than an ashy memory. Staring down at the girl in my arms, I clench my teeth until they nearly crack from the pressure. My fiancée would rather peddle her body in a seedy club like a common whore than marry me. Disgust rolls through me as I place her in the back seat of my rented car and gently cover her near-naked body with my suit jacket. The sedative will take a while to wear off. Enough time to get us out of this god-forsaken city and back to where she belongs.
With me.
Sighing, I slide into the front seat and motion for the driver to go. Hiro will catch up as soon as he is done, but I want to get out of this alley. Picking up my cell phone, I dial Vitali’s number. It barely rings before he answers.
“I take it you found her,” he drawls, amusement thick in his voice. I resist the urge to tell him where he can shove it.
“She’s currently passed out and ready for transport,” I confirm.
Vitali chuckles. “She’s not luggage, Kenzo,” he jokes. “She’s your fiancée.”
I scoff. “My fiancée, who I found shaking her ass in a fucking strip club, wearing nothing more than a few scraps of fabric.”
Vitali whistles lowly. “Fuck, man.” He clears his throat. “Do I need to send a cleanup crew?” Vitali is taking over Adrian’s territory for the next few weeks while he and Vanya go on their honeymoon in Thailand. If my own territory weren’t in the middle of its own shitstorm right now, it would be me, but I was barely able to get away for the wedding. The Sinaloa Cartel has been spreading into my territory like roaches. No matter how many I kill, they keep coming back. It’s an infestation I need to get rid of, and fast. They pose a large risk to my operation in the city and the surrounding area.
“No need,” I assure him. “Hiro is taking care of it right now.”
Vitali snorts. “Fucker is probably dragging out the marshmallows as we speak,” he chuckles. “Crazy pyro.” He isn’t wrong. Hiro is obsessed with fire. Has been since we were kids barely old enough to understand the damage it could do. We both learned our lesson. Well, at least I did. Hiro spent the rest of our childhood learning to control it. Harness it. Not that I am going to complain. It makes for an easier cleanup if there is nothing left but ash to sweep up after.
“I blame you,” I joke. “You’re the one who introduced him to s’mores.”
Vitali’s laugh echoes through the phone, rich and hearty. The most Italian thing I’ve heard.
“Best damn invention ever, if you ask me,” he exclaims.
“I didn’t,” I deadpan in response, my lips curling into a slight smile despite my attempt to remain serious. But Vitali’s infectious laughter is contagious, and soon, I find myself chuckling along with him. This man is like a brother to me. Hell, he and Adrian are my brothers.We’ve been friends since we were in diapers. Our fathers were all friends as well. It was their friendship that made them targets and what ultimately led to their deaths.
In a world where power is everything, those without it will stop at nothing to take it from those who do. Our fathers, two of the most ruthless businessmen in the world, made fatal mistakes that led to their downfall. Mistakes that we, their sons, can’t afford to repeat.
Our friendship, like our fathers’, has attracted enemies with their sights set on our demise. While they merged their businesses and lives under one city, we operate independently in different territories. We’re strong as a unit, but having all three of us in one city makes us an easy target for anyone seeking to wipe us out in one swift blow.
The deaths of Adrian’s father and mine came at the hands of a joint attack in New York, the heart of our empire at the time. With Adrian and me overseas, there was nothing we could do to retaliate against the betrayal that brought our fathers’ empire crumbling down. We weren’t prepared for such a devastating loss.
Vitali’s father met a similar fate. His own brother betrayed and killed him while his back was turned. The very man he trusted and loved took advantage of his vulnerability and seized control through bloodshed. To this day, Vitali carries the weight of betrayal on his shoulders as he remembers being dragged through the underground tunnels of his childhood home by his father’s second-in-command—his treacherous uncle. It’s a reminder that in this world, even the unassuming can be corrupted by power.
Unlike my friends, I chose to marry solely for business purposes rather than love or pleasure. I know I’ll never be able to fully trust my wife. The only people I trust unequivocally are Adrian and Vitali. Not even my own men hold that level of trust from me. Hiro comes close, but in this cutthroat world we live in, anyone could be waiting for a chance to stab you in the back and climb over your lifeless body to claim their own spot at the top.
“Are you heading to the airstrip now?” Vitali asks. I tell him we’re on our way there now. “Good. I’ll get everything cleared for your departure. Let me know if you need anything.”
A warmth spreads through me at his words. He means them. We all do. If I needed him, he’d be there in a moment’s notice, no questions asked. Same goes for Adrian. “Thank you, brother.”
Clearing my throat, I end the call and scroll through the files that Mark, Matthias Dashkov’s hacker, sent me regarding my little runaway bride. For years, I’ve chased her from the West Coast and back, haunting her every footstep. I usually find her within weeks, but over time, she’s gotten better at hiding her tracks. After a while, it became a game for me. I’d let her get comfortable and then pull the rug out from under her just as she settled in.
Then she disappeared from my radar completely.
For six months, I searched for her, and she was right under my nose the entire time. I look back at her sprawled out on the leather of the back seat. Her short blond hair is feathering her face, her eyes are closed peacefully, and her mouth is slightly parted. She looks so innocent like this that I almost feel bad about what I am about to do.
Almost.
Evaline LaMontagne doesn’t know the beast she has awoken inside me. One that will devour her body and soul.
It doesn’t take us long to get to the small privately owned airstrip where my A330neo waits, fueled and ready.
“Sir.” The pilot tips his head respectfully as I carry Evaline up the steps and into the spacious cabin. This is one of the bigger planes the Sovereign Brotherhood owns. Nearly a thousand square feet, with a full kitchen and bar, along with a master suite in the back. I don’t take it out often. Some of our smaller jet streams have a master suite as well, but this plane holds more people, which is what I needed for this trip. I brought a good amount of my men with me for security. Same with Vitali. We won’t be caught unawares like our fathers.
“Can I get you anything to drink, sir?” Mya, the air hostess asks after I settle into my seat, a large red smile painted on her overly done up face. She’s leaning over me, her fake breasts popping out of her uniform, a painfully obvious display of seduction. Normally, I would take the bait. Set her on my lap with my hand up her too-short skirt. But I don’t have the time or the inclination.
Kenzo Jr. hasn’t cared for the sight of any woman since he was left at the altar three years ago. Apparently, the one woman he wants is the runaway bride. It irritates the fuck out of me. My mother has told me to forget about Evaline LaMontagne. There are plenty of socialites with well-connected parents who are more than willing to walk down the aisle and become Mrs. Kenzo Nakamura.
Except I don’t want any of them. The only woman I want is Evaline, and I will do anything to have her. Even if it means holding a gun to her head while she says her vows in front of a church full of witnesses.
Not that it will come to that. I have something far more enticing planned for the little runaway. She won’t be able to say no, even if she wants to. And I am sure she does.
“No,” I reply curtly, waving her off. Hurt flashes across her face, but she does as she is told. She knows better than to argue or press herself any further.
Evaline is asleep in the seat next to me, her head resting gently against my shoulder. She is still wearing my jacket, but I also placed a blanket over her, just in case she gets cold.
Not that I care if she does, but I can’t have my bride getting hypothermia before she walks down the aisle. It is a three-hour flight to New Orleans, and I don’t expect her to wake during the trip, so I lean back in my seat and close my eyes.
Soon, my plans will unfold, and I’ll be one step closer to achieving what my father couldn’t.
No matter the cost.