“Sounds good. I’ll text you once I’m there.” She said.
“Cool. See you Soph,” he said and hung up.
Sophie stood up and put her arms around her husband. He hugged her briefly then turned to his father.
“Of course it might be a trap,” he said.
“Yes. That possibility had occurred to me too. We’ll scout the area of course, and there will be at least three people within 50m of Sophie at all times. You can’t be one of those people because if Stephen sees you the jig is up but you’ll be close; never fear. No harm will come to Sophia.” Roman said.
“No. No harm will come to Sophia, that’s for sure,” Tony said. Sophie’s blood turned cold seeing the identical expressions on their faces. Like an arctic winter when the cold winds blow cruelly and destroy everything in their paths. She shuddered shaking the imagery from her mind. This was her Mr. Blue Eyes – of course he would kill or die for her.
Chapter 7
“What’s happening?” Katarina whispered to Solomon as he came into the kitchen for some water. Solomon looked at her and smiled, leaning down to kiss her softly. Katarina left him but then lifted her brows up in a demanding manner as if to say “Well?”
“There’s some drama in New York. Nothing we need to worry about. Papa Romanov’s taking care of it.” Solomon said, kissing her again.
“Are we safe?” Katarina asked hands tightening on the dish she was washing.
“Yeah. The drama is in New York; not here. And Papa Romanov and Grandpa have already taken care of security at the house. Sam and Benjy are perfectly safe – and so are you.”
“I can take care of myself,” Katarina kind of snapped but then she smiled to take away the sting.
“I know, but you don’t have to. Not anymore,” Solomon said and Katarina knew he was talking about more than this drama. She gave him a small smile then continued scrubbing the pan.
“Do you need help with that?” he asked her.
“No. Go help your sister,” Kat said. Solomon stared at her for a moment then went back to the library to hear what next.
*****
New York seemed to be a colder place than Sophie remembered from two weeks ago. Less hospitable; possibly dangerous. She looked to her side where her husband sat grimly staring out at the passing traffic. Behind them, another car contained her father-in-law, uncle-in-law and grandfather. The latter had refused point blank to be left behind as had Solomon who sat opposite them. They’d been waved away by a very pale Katarina who had been left with the children and surrounded by burly men in black suits. They avoided the inn just in case Peanuts and her crew were watching for them. For the same reason they’d come into town by private jet and were riding in black SUVs with tinted windows.
“This is so Mission Impossible,” Sophia ventured trying to ease the tension in the car. Tony continued to search the traffic for God knew what but Solomon gave her a strained smile.
“I call Tom Cruise,” he said.
“You’re not Tom Cruise, I’m Tom Cruise,” Sophie protested.
“Fine, I’m that geeky computer guy who turned out to be a major badass.” Solomon said.
Sophie shrugged, “Sure whatever. Though you look more like Paula Patton, just sayin.”
Solomon flipped her off and then looked out of the window too. Sophie sighed, picked up her iPod and filled her ears with the Mission Impossible soundtrack closing her eyes and leaning back.
“We should be at ground zero soon. Are you ready Sophie?” were the first words Tony had spoken since they got on the plane.
“I’m ready,” Sophie replied without opening her eyes. “Are you ready?”
Even with her eyes closed, she could feel his eyes on her. She knew he hated having her in this situation but there was nothing else to be done and he’d just have to deal. She wasn’t some Disney princess. She could handle her business; it was probably time Tony knew that. She opened her eyes and turned her head so that her honey brown eyes could stare into his blue ones. They stayed like that for a long while before Tony turned away to look into the traffic again. Solomon pretended not to notice the exchange.
They dropped Sophie off at the subway, where she’d take a train to the Red Motel. Solomon would go on the same train but pretend he didn’t know her. They figured that he’d changed enough in the last ten years for him not to be immediately recognizable to Stephen. That is if he was looking for a tail. Also on the train were five men from the Krysha. Sophie didn’t know who they were but she had faith in her father-in-law. Well…she had faith that he would handle this mess she’d inadvertently gotten them into. She sat down and studied her fellow passengers, making up entire lives about them so as to ease her nerves. As the train drew up at the Bronx, she drew a deep breath and alighted, peeking to see that Starship was keeping up. He wasn’t far behind her, but he was pretending to be lost in the music blaring from the yellow headphones he was wearing, bobbing his head to the beat and looking down. Reassured she climbed the stairs to the street and then hailed a cab. A yellow taxi drew up beside her and she got in. The driver took off and she studied the back of his head wanting to ask him questions but knowing it wasn’t a good idea. He dropped her off in front of the Red Motel and she handed over some money so that it looked like a genuine fare.
“We have surrounded the place Mrs. Romanov so be not fearful,” he told her without turning around.
“Thanks,” she said and alighted from the vehicle. She went immediately to room 2C as they’d agreed and waited. After ten minutes, she texted Stephen to say she had arrived and how long would he be…
He texted her back after ten minutes to say he was close and she tensed, praying that she would do this right and not give the game away in some way. She took off her coat and pulled down her dress to display her cleavage to better advantage.
“Come on Devereux, showtime,” she whispered to herself just as a soft knock sounded at the door. She opened it with the chain still on and saw Stephen standing outside.
“Hey,” she whispered softly and smiled at him.
“Hey,” he replied and she closed the door so she could remove the chain and let him in.
“Are you alone?” she asked immediately as he came through the door.
“Wasn’t I supposed to be?” he countered which didn’t really answer the question. She wondered if it would make much difference if he wasn’t.
“Are you alone,” he asked in turn. She opened her mouth to say something flirtatious but then noticed the watchfulness in his eyes and stopped smiling.
“If my husband knew I was here, he’d kill me,” she said instead, letting her fear of the situation bleed through her words.
He walked slowly to her and took her arm in his hand. “Forget about him. Maybe after this you could leave his ass and we could go off somewhere together,” he said squeezing softly.
“Maybe,” Sophie replied and smiled. His eyes dropped to her exposed cleavage and his mouth opened slightly with desire. Sophie inclined her head to the side. ‘Hmmm…looks like the interest is real anyway. Where was it when I wanted it ten years ago?’
Suddenly the door burst in and three men came and grabbed Stephen before he could react. Before Sophie could move they had disappeared with him. Solomon stepped into the room soon after to get her and as they made their way out a black SUV came screeching to a halt in front of the them and Tony opened the door.
“Come with me if you want to live,” he said in a mangled Austrian accent. Sophie grinned at him and took his hand to let him assist her into the vehicle.
“Feeling better are we?” she commented in amusement.
“Now that the bad part’s over. Yeah,” he said not looking even the least bit shamefaced. Sophie snorted in amusement and relaxed in her seat.
“Now what?” she asked him.
“Now Papa gets whatever information he needs to stop these guys,” he said.
“Are we sure that Stephen even knows anything?” she asked.
; “No. That’s why Papa has to question him,” Tony said in tones suggesting that Sophie was being slow. Sophie snapped her mouth shut and looked out the window, glaring at the passing buildings.
“We should have a drink,” Solomon suggested going so far as to take his headphones off.
“We should probably wait until we’re at the house then,” Tony said, his tone a bit snarky. Solomon ignored him and unrolled the mini-bar where he picked up a bottle of vodka and poured them each a measure.
“Come on, everyone’s too tense. Drink up,” he ordered handing them each a glass.
Sophie took hers and downed it, thinking this unfortunate trend of imbibing alcohol was seeming to become a trend. Hello, my name is Sophie Devereux Romanov and I’m an alcoholic. She smirked to herself and downed the White Russian Solomon had poured her in one gulp.
‘Extenuating circumstances’ she thought to herself.
“Good girl, now you Tony,” Solomon encouraged like they were nursery school children. Tony snorted but he also downed his Vodka on the Rocks with no further ado.
“Good people. Now let’s all relax and wait for Papa Romanov to tell us what’s next,” he said leaning back and putting his headphones back on.
*****
Tony knew he was being a pain in the ass but he couldn’t seem to help himself. For one thing his skin was still prickling from having Sophie alone in a room with that low life, and he wasn’t generally very good at waiting. Whatever Papa and Uncle Mikhail were doing to that motherfucker, he wished they’d hurry up. It wasn’t until 6pm that his phone rang and he picked it up almost before it had completed the first ring.
“Yes?” he bit out. Sophie and Solomon stood up and stared at him from the game of Scrabble they’d been playing.
“Well we spoke to the man and he tells us that this Peanuts person is looking for a partnership. She wants to take over your business in New York so that she can have access to your management expertise. She wants it discreet – to engineer a silent corporate takeover in which she’s a majority partner in your New York businesses and you’re available to her as a partner. She thinks that because you have…association with Russian Mafia you will not be averse to making a deal with her.”
“Didn’t she do her research?” Tony asked sneering into his phone.
“These young ‘uns… always so impatient,” Roman said. “I think we need to send a message that you are not available.”
“And how does one send that message?” Tony asked.
“We burn down their warehouse.” Roman said.
“And why would they care?” Tony asked.
“Because it’s where they count their drug money. Torch their money; cripple their operations at least for a while. After that, engineer another corporate takeover with someone less…reckless,” Roman said.
“Can we really do all that?” he asked skeptically.
“You doubt me?” Roman asked.
Tony was silent his eyes closed, thinking about his mother and his brother and what Roman had done to keep him safe. “No Papa,” he said.
“You wanted to be part of this decision. So do you ‘sign off’ on this course of action?” Roman asked.
Tony glanced at Sophie then at Solomon and thought about the lengths he would go to, to keep them safe.
“Yes I do,” he said.
*****
Benjy had just taken his first crawling steps. It was a moment of celebration because the entire family had been there to witness it. They had been sitting on the patio having drinks before dinner. Roman and Elijah were busy arguing about the best way to baste pork on the grill when Benjy cried to be put down from his mother’s lap. Sophie had placed him on the ground at her feet where he’d sat for two minutes before spotting a cockroach headed for the grass. He had tentatively put his hands on the ground and pulled himself a few inches, careful of his mother’s arms, always ready to snatch him up from eating anything too interesting. She was busy laughing though at something his father had said so he crawled slowly forward. Solomon was fiddling with his phone at the time and when he saw what was happening he quickly found video to record the whole thing. Benjy crawled slowly to the edge of the patio before his mother realized he had moved. There was general shouting, screaming and mayhem and it had scared Benjy a little so that he burst into tears and would only be soothed by his mother’s breast. The whole family gathered round to watch the video again and again of ‘baby’s first crawl’ as Solomon had captioned it on Instagram.
“Now we’re really in trouble,” Tony said arm around his wife.
“When were we not?” she asked in amusement.
“Oh I don’t know, there was about two minutes there between my so-called bachelor party and the night of our wedding that was pretty trouble free.
“Uh huh,” was Sophie’s non-committal reply. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop from the Stephen Jensen debacle. The warehouse had been burned, Roman even making it seem like a rival gang had done it. That had sparked a war between the gangs which had been long, drawn out and messy. Stephen Jensen had disappeared and Sophie was afraid to ask Roman if he’d killed him. Peanuts was too busy trying to survive to bother about them and their business so that was a plus. Still, Sophie couldn’t help worrying. Trouble seemed to follow them like cooties on a tween.
“Hey,” Tony nudged her, “you still with us?”
“Course I am. Where else would I be?” Sophie replied.
“Worrying your lower lip about things you can’t change?” Tony asked.
“Nah…not my style,” Sophie said turning in his arms to kiss him senseless.
*****
His eyes were wedged shut with red goo. Whatever it was, it glued his lids shut. He wasn’t sure he wanted to open his eyes though. He hurt like he hadn’t known it was possible to hurt and still live. All he saw was red…because of the goo that glued his eyes shut.
“Ay,” someone prodded him on the shoulder.
He lifted his head, because he’d learned what happened if he pretended to have passed out.
“Your friend Lucas is dead. Gunshot wound to the chest. They tried to save him but he’d lost too much blood. Peanuts is devastated,” the voice told him. He’d been getting these daily reports interspersed with ‘interviews’ on what he thought the Bloods next move might be. It wasn’t like he was high up in the hierarchy. He was just a nigga looking for some credibility on the streets. Maybe graduate to a rap career or some acting. This gangsta shit wasn’t supposed to end like this.
“Tha’s too bad,” he said. “Please let me go; I promise I won’t say nothing to no-one. Please sir.”
But there was no reply. The voice was gone. Sometimes in his bad moments, he thought he imagined that voice. Maybe this was just a huge massive ‘shroom hallucination. Maybe he’d wake up in his bed, safe and warm and completely free of pain. Or maybe he was dead and this was hell.
The end...
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Be Mine Forever (Brothers From Money #2) Page 21
