Prince of the Brotherhood: A Mafia Romance

by K. Alex Walker

  It would be so easy to lean closer.

  Kiss him until his mouth hurt.

  A third knock sounded, more insistent.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked, removing her hands. “One more knock, and it’ll be suspicious. They’ll think we’re in here...fucking.”

  A streak of lightning flashed across those stormy irises. With a groan, he stood, went to the door, and dragged it open.

  “What? I’m busy.”

  “I was wondering where we were going for lunch,” a nauseatingly petite voice greeted. “My mother told me that, instead of waiting, I should seek you out. Take initiative.”

  Eija tried to peer around him to see which “debutante” it was, but Dom’s large frame blocked her view.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Then he stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Eija left the desk and walked over to one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases in the moderately sized space. The Sokolovs called it a library. To her, it was a museum. The shiny tile floors, walls, and bookshelves were all white, which fit with the modern theme of the penthouse. Artifacts hung on the walls, everything from ancient axes, spears, and arrowheads to colorful medallions. A statue of a man in uniform on a horse towered over her, the horse reared on its hind legs. Ancient masks, framed artwork of varying sizes, and two pieces that looked like shields hung behind the man’s head.

  Like a museum, the unique pieces had their information next to or underneath them in small print. She headed for a large oil painting by an artist named Alban Moreau and searched for hidden cameras. Finding nothing obvious, she went next to a medallion, red with jewels placed around the edge of the circle. Given Yuri’s wealth, she knew they were real, old, and priceless. An unlit scented candle sat next to them, its cinnamon and orange aroma extending only as far as the edge of the bookshelf.

  Dom grabbed her wrist.

  She knew it was Dom who grabbed her wrist, but her instincts screamed unexpected intruder.

  She slipped out of his grasp and stepped around him to spin his wrist behind his back, but he flipped his arm. Her grip slackened, and she found herself pressed against a bookcase with both wrists locked in one of his hands, his feet on either side of her body.

  “You won’t get me twice.” His mouth was so close to her ear, his breath felt like a kiss. Instead of cherry cigar smoke, he smelled like mint. “Self defense? Judo?”

  Her chest pushed into the wooden shelf in front of her. “Basic grappling. Before I had a place at the resort, I used to walk home.”

  “And?”

  “I was grabbed.”

  It was, of course, a spy’s nature to lie.

  “Did they hurt you?” he asked, as though speaking through a jaw wired shut.

  “No.” She tugged on her hands. “You should probably let me go. I don’t think we’d be able to convince the cameras that this isn’t something more than it looks like.”

  “There are no cameras in here.”

  Her ears perked up.

  That information could be useful later.

  “Yuri doesn’t place cameras in any of the rooms where he does business. The man will put a camera in a bathroom before he opens up the possibility of anyone eyeing his business doings when he’s not around.”

  “So there are cameras in the bathrooms?”

  “No,” his lips grazed her neck, “what I’m saying is, if you’re looking for places to seduce me, you have here, his office, and there’s a meeting room on the top floor.”

  Goosebumps raised on her skin.

  “Dom.”

  He released her and stepped back.

  She faced him, nursing her sore wrists, and the fact that they were sore was a slight turn on. There were a few times where she’d done the light bondage thing, but she hadn’t enjoyed the lack of control.

  He raised his brows. “Lunch?”

  “I think you already have lunch plans.” She brushed past him and headed for the desk. “So, rain check.”

  “I cancelled. I want to have lunch with you.”

  “Dom—”

  “I want you, Eija.”

  He reached for her elbow, but she pulled away.

  “Dom, think about it. There’s more at stake for me than you in this situation. I really like this job. I adore Nikolai. Your fiancée is somewhere in this house. And look, I know how I came off in Grenada, like a woman only concerned with good times, attractive men, and orgasms. In truth, I am that. Usually. I liked you, though.” She clasped her hands in front of her face. “It was only two weeks, I know. But, in those two weeks, I learned that you’re a really good guy. I mean, you sent me roses, asked me to dance, took me to lunch. You’re sweet, Dom.”

  Amazing.

  The kind of guy who, even if she’d wanted to forget, circumstances now made it impossible.

  “Still, at the end of the day, you’re going to do your duty, aren’t you?” she asked, a sliver of her hoping he answered with a no. “I don’t know exactly all what Yuri does, but whatever it is, he’s good at it. I don’t ask because I’m not here for that. I’m here to make sure Nikolai hits all his goals and milestones and gets good care. However, whatever it is, it’s something he wants to pass on to you. In order for him to do that, you have to take a wife, and I’m pretty sure she’s not supposed to look like me.”

  His focus hadn’t deviated from her face the entire time she spoke. “So, what are you saying then?” he asked.

  “That there are too many men in this world for me to be preoccupied or concerned with one who belongs to someone else.”

  Although, technically, she’d licked him first. That should mean she had dibs, but perhaps dibs didn’t translate the same way in Russia.

  “I liked you too.” A tiny smile played at the corners of his lips. “And yes, it was a couple of weeks, but I had such a great time with you, I wanted to do it again. And again. I wanted to know, with more time, what you could mean to me. What we could mean to each other.”

  Had there never been an Andrei, there wouldn’t have been an inherent pull low in her belly to give in. It had been a while since she’d so much as felt a man’s arms around her, primarily because of the demands of family and this latest undercover operation. Being with him wouldn’t be like being with anyone else. The sample he’d given her in the islands would forever remain with her.

  She was already lying to her partner, and their entire agency, about having identified him.

  And for what?

  Because he wasn’t what she’d thought he was?

  Yuri seemed nice, but they had mountains upon mountains of evidence of his terror. Their entire team had spoken, ad nauseam, about the Bratva’s influence in Russia and the rest of the world. Yuri’s reign went back to the fall of the Soviet Union. Now, he controlled markets and entire segments of the country. For all his cheek kisses and love for his grandson, his goons left bloodied bodies in their wake. They sold international secrets, supplied guns to extremist groups. Yuri didn’t abide by any code, not even the most renowned one that had governed the earliest mobsters—ponyatiya. He was so far removed from his “craft,” he actually looked like a legitimate businessman in the pictures he had on his walls, shaking the Russian president’s hand.

  Stopping Yuri wouldn’t stop the organization, but it would deal them a massive blow. It would also stop him from selling information they’d learned the Bratva had obtained that could compromise MI6, the CIA, the DGSE, and more allied intelligence agencies. Whether he truly wanted to sell the information or hold on to it to exercise power over one or all the agencies was unclear, but at this point, it didn’t matter.

  “Dom, let me ask you again,” she said. “At the end of the day, will Dominik Sokolov do his duty? If I left right now, went to your place, and made love to you, at the end of it, will Dominik Sokolov still take a wife at his father’s request?”

  “Eija—”

  “Yes or no, Dom.”

  He scrubbed at his
face until it turned red. “Yes.”

  “Then there’s your answer.”

  She’d never been much of a sharer, wanting whoever she preoccupied herself with at the time to be concerned with her orgasms only. Until then, she hadn’t the need to care; her relationships never lasted long enough for jealousy or possessiveness.

  There was more than one reason this man stood out, but she kept one of those reasons hidden in the deepest parts of her mind.

  Eija grabbed her things from the desk and started for the door.

  Dom reached out and pulled her back, up against him.

  She breathed his name, and he groaned, tightening his arms around her.

  From what she remembered, his kisses were a lot like his personality—gentle at first, allowing her to get used to the movement and synchronicity of their lips. Once they had the coordination down, the kiss deepened. Instead of kissing, they tasted, swallowed, and savored.

  Yet, Dom and the taste of his kisses would have to remain a memory.

  She wanted him. Kissing him would mean making love to him, but the secrets they hid from one another were already bursting through seams that had started unraveling in the penthouse hallway. Tossing passion on top was a lit match in pure oxygen. Regardless, she didn’t want to see him the same way she’d seen Vasily with matted, stringy hair, jaundiced skin, hollow eyes, and bloodied face.

  “Dom…please.”

  He released her for the second time and crouched to pick up items she didn’t realize she’d dropped. When he stood, she noticed the necklace around his neck. It was the same one he’d worn in Grenada.

  “You still wear this.” She slid her thumb over the silver pattern. “It’s beautiful.”

  He looked down. “It was my mother’s. My aunt gave it to me. Even when you can’t see it, I’m always wearing it.”

  A game of tug-of-war initiated in her stomach. He never took it off. If he never took it off, that meant wherever the necklace was, he would be.

  “Do you want it?” he asked.

  Her gaze flicked up to his. “What? No. You just told me it was your mother’s.”

  “I don’t think she wanted me to keep it forever. Plus, I like the idea of you wearing something important to me. One day, you might leave this lowly job for bluer waters. My ego wants it to be that you take a part of me with you.”

  “I already do.”

  He slipped it off his neck, took her hand, and pressed it into her palm. “Here. Wear it for a day or two. If it doesn’t make you think of me, give it back. If it does, let me know. Either way, it guarantees we’ll see each other again. Okay?”

  She smiled. “Yes. Will do.”

  He kissed her forehead, a subdued version of the tender kiss he’d given her outside her door at the hotel resort. She’d been right all along. She didn’t deserve a kiss this sweet, regardless of who either of them were. Biblically, there wasn’t much difference between a liar and a killer.

  They walked to the door.

  He opened it, and she stepped through.

  When she turned to look back at him, he did the same. They both took their last eyefuls and headed off in different directions, him presumably to have dinner with the petite princesses whose mothers followed them around like duennas.

  She had lunch with Colin in an hour, and she wanted to at least observe the situation surrounding getting into Yuri’s office before going to meet up with him. Even if she didn’t get inside, they at least had some sort of progress with Dom’s mother’s necklace.

  Eija walked down the hallway toward a second set of stairs, fighting the urge to look back over her shoulder. Without realizing it, Dom had imparted major information about the cameras Yuri kept hidden. She was the first agent or officer of any kind to actually enter the Sokolov household, as far as she knew. Rumor was, he’d taken in former KGB as security, carrying on their domestic tasks in a more private function.

  It was possible Dom’s information could be incorrect or intentionally meant to lead her astray, but she would step out on faith. She could finagle her way out of a sticky situation should anyone catch her; she just had to play the entire scenario as if there were cameras watching.

  When she turned to start up the stairs, a housekeeper made her way down, a laundry basket tucked against her side.

  “Dobroy utro,” Eija greeted, ducking her head slightly. “How are you this morning, Manya?”

  Manya returned the greeting. “Wonderful, Miss K. Are you headed up to Nikolai’s room? I’ve just come from there. It’s clean, but let me know if it’s not to your liking.”

  Eija rummaged around in the tote and pulled out a chocolate bar.

  Manya’s eyes lit up, and her face flushed. “Miss K, don’t you spoil me!”

  “We’re chocolate buddies, Manya,” Eija said, leaning in. “I picked one up for myself the other day, so I had to make sure I got one for you.”

  Manya’s face flushed even deeper. “Sweet girl.”

  Manya was closer in age to Ekaterina, so Ekaterina didn’t worry that the other woman slept under the same roof. She still worked Manya to the bone, Manya’s tasks often keeping her from society for weeks on end. A loyal servant to the end, Manya never once lifted her tongue to complain about her circumstances, but when Eija started at the house, she’d seen the need for alliances. Manya and Ludmila interacted with the Sokolovs the most frequently. With them on her side, history could tell her what basic espionage couldn’t.

  Manya gave Eija’s forearm a quick squeeze and continued down the stairs.

  Eija slowed her steps, and when Manya was no longer in sight, she made a left to head toward Yuri’s office instead of the right that would take her to Nikolai’s room. Luck was on her side when she saw a striped, gray tail disappear through the slightly ajar door. She couldn’t wait outside to verify there were no voices inside, so little Miss Lyu would make for the perfect excuse if Yuri happened to be sitting quietly behind his desk.

  “Lyu,” she called, picking up her steps. “Lyu, come here.”

  She pushed in the office door.

  No one was inside.

  Lyu had walked directly to the sofa Yuri kept inside, hopped onto it, and curled into a ball. Eija crouched in front of the sofa and stroked the top of the cat’s head.

  “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? That’s it. Get comfortable. Miss K feels better than that chair, doesn’t she? Yes, she does.”

  After a few more strokes, she slid her hands under Lyu’s warm body and lifted. The cat, enraptured by the attention, came willingly. Almost overeagerly. And, cat in hand, Eija walked around the office. If there truly were cameras inside, they’d pick up on a nosy, yet animal-loving nanny singing Lyu to sleep. While she sang, she scanned the room and desktop for any files Yuri might have left lying out.

  Russia had never really fallen off the map, ever since the Cold War, though North Korea and extremist-Islam, over time, had bottlenecked global surveillance efforts. But United States election tampering had pushed it back into the top five.

  Randy liaised with the CIA more than he did any of the other major intelligence organizations. They’d had money tossed their way since it was a matter of global security to find out what Yuri had. That meant first getting to Dom. According to Randy, Yuri would do anything for them to spare the life of his solitary heir.

  Eija leaned over Yuri’s desk and fiddled with the stud earring in her ear. With a quick twist of the earring and a slight tilt of her head, she snapped an image. Laid out on his desk were plans of some sort, but it was unclear of what. Right now, they looked like the scribblings and sketches of a power-hungry madman, but Colin could probably make sense of them.

  Lyu meowed.

  Eija resumed stroking. “So needy,” she gently scolded. “Now, can you tell me what these are, Lyu?”

  She took several more photos, did a final quick sweep of the room, and headed for the door.

  It swung open.

  She shrieked.

  The shriek startled
Lyu, who bit her on the wrist.

  Pain swelled at her wrist, but the skin remained unbroken.

  However, the pain forced her to drop the cat. Instead of running for the door, Lyu darted for Eija’s ankles. And, before Eija realized it, she was on the floor with the cat underneath her, Lyu’s body indistinguishable from that of a crepe.

  When she finally got a good look at who’d entered the office, she swallowed a groan.

  “I’m Leah,” the young woman introduced. “You’re Miss K.”

  Eija eased up off the cat. “Go get help.”

  Leah walked over and knelt in front of Eija. “I’ve wanted to meet you, officially, for a while.”

  “Leah, go get hel—”

  Pavel stepped into the office, followed by Yuri and Dom. When they saw her, still half on top of Lyu—who was making a sound she’d only heard humans make—Pavel’s eyes widened. Yuri’s glazed over. Dom’s locked onto hers. Eija glanced down and noticed a few of her shirt buttons had popped off, and the way Leah was perched, it looked like the other woman had been diving for her breasts. Hopefully, this current predicament wouldn’t make lunch later with Colin, a man, stand out as odd.

  “I fell on the cat,” Eija said.

  Pavel helped her up. “Are you all right?”

  Had she spoken English? Farsi? Did no one see that at least two of Lyu’s whiskers were bent?

  “I fell on the cat,” she repeated.

  Yuri, finally back from his fantasy, walked over and picked Lyu up from the floor.

  “She’s been in worse scuffles, I assure you,” he said.

  “I fell on the cat.” She felt like stuck on repeat. “Dom?”

  “Pavel,” Yuri extended Lyu in Pavel’s direction, “please take Lyu to the vet. Miss K, you go along with him. I have a meeting this morning with Gideon. There are some questions I would like to ask him regarding an incident that happened last night.”

  Leah asked the question Eija couldn’t. “What incident? Dominik, are you okay?”

  Dom spared her a glance. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

  Leah beamed, face crimson.

  Yuri, smiling with the depth of a kiddie pool, squeezed Leah’s shoulder. “It’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about, my dear.”