by Katee Robert
Liam appeared in the doorway, and the look on his face sent Aiden’s every instinct on high alert. He kept his expression neutral. “Excuse me.”
Liam barely waited until they had the door shut to pull Aiden aside. “Keira went out her window and down the fire escape. She gave Mark the slip, but he’s checking her usual haunts, and I’ve sent men to help him search. We’ll bring her back.”
The last time she’d escaped them so thoroughly, Romanov had been the one to retrieve her. He’d deposited her at the front door without harming her—or that was what she said. Keira had been pale and shaken and downright vicious when he tried to question her, so he’d found his answers in a more roundabout way.
Interrogating idiot druggies wasn’t his idea of a good time, but the answers he’d discovered supported Keira’s claim that Romanov hadn’t hurt her—at least not physically.
After that, Aiden stopped taking chances with his youngest sister’s safety. He’d put Mark on her detail, with a secondary perimeter when they knew she was leaving, so that she wouldn’t be taken again.
But it was impossible to ensure that if he didn’t know where the fuck she was.
While there was no reason for Romanov to strike now, when Aiden had agreed to help him, he didn’t trust the Russian for a second—and that wasn’t even taking into account other enemies who may see her as a weak link to be exploited. Fear rose, the one emotion he never allowed himself. He wrestled it back and locked it down deep. Fear would get him and the people he cared about killed. What he needed was cold, hard logic.
“Find her.”
Liam nodded once and was gone, striding away at a pace that was almost running. Keira was as much little sister to him as she was to Aiden. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her on his watch.
Neither of them would.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dmitri Romanov studied the man in front of him. He’d sent Mikhail on an errand, and the man had come back empty-handed. “Explain.”
Mikhail seemed to shrink in on himself, a feat since he was built slightly to begin with. “I’m sorry, Mr. Romanov. If she was anyone else, I would have taken her regardless of her wishes, but she’s to marry you, and …”
And once he married Keira O’Malley, she would outrank every one of his men. None of them were sure what that meant exactly or how Dmitri would implement his marriage within the power structure, and it made them all jumpy. If Mikhail crossed Keira now and she held it against him later …
Dmitri understood why he was hesitant to take that step. It didn’t mean he forgave it.
“Mikhail, did I or did I not give you an order?”
His shoulders slumped a second before he got control of himself and straightened. “You did.” He managed to meet Dmitri’s gaze. “And with all due respect, sir, she would have caused a scene, and I judged that to be worse than to deliver her message.”
Ah yes, her message. If he wanted her, he was to come get her himself.
Despite everything, the challenge sent a thrill through Dmitri. He was a man who liked things in their place. He read people well enough that he could anticipate their moves with ease. There had been setbacks along the way, but he hadn’t been wrong yet.
Except when it came to Keira O’Malley.
The woman had surprised him at every turn, had pushed him to the limits of his control seemingly without effort. He wanted her—in a number of ways—and he had no business wanting her, future wife or no.
Then the rest of what Mikhail had told him penetrated. “You left her there alone.”
Mikhail gave a sharp shake of his head. “I left one of our men to watch her. To keep her safe.”
She had an uncanny ability to avoid her brother’s men and slip out unnoticed. It wasn’t in Dmitri’s interest to have her harmed, though he hadn’t yet fully dealt with the fact that the one most likely to harm Keira was Keira herself.
Her brother had cut her funds and threatened her cocaine dealers into blacklisting her, but Dmitri didn’t trust people who could be compromised for the sake of money. All it took for Dmitri to get things under control was making an example of the first one who defied O’Malley’s command and the others were too terrified to even go near her. She thought O’Malley was behind it, and Dmitri was content to let her keep believing that.
Other than ensuring that she wasn’t touched while drinking herself into oblivion, there wasn’t much either he or O’Malley could do about the alcohol abuse currently. That would change the moment she and Dmitri were married.
It was nothing more than guarding a future investment.
He ignored the way the thought felt like a lie and refocused on the man in front of him. “I suppose I’ll have to pay her a personal visit.” Now.
Wasn’t that why I came to Boston tonight in the first place?
He found her exactly where Mikhail said she would be, holding court in the midst of what looked to be an orgy. Dmitri counted six couples in the immediate area around her, all in varying stages of fucking. Through it all, Keira stared off into the distance, untouchable. She lifted her head and looked at him as he stopped a few feet in front of her, as if she could sense his presence. “You.”
At least the music was several levels below deafening at this particular party. It wasn’t always the rule with the places she frequented. “You requested my presence.”
She arched her eyebrows. “And do you always come when you’re called? Like a good dog?” Her words were slightly slurred, courtesy of the vodka bottle dangling from her fingertips. Judging from its current level, she was well on her way to blacking out.
Irritation rose, as unwelcome as his attraction to this waif. If Keira would stop turning the blade on herself long enough, she might realize what a weapon she could be. He still hadn’t decided if he wanted to encourage that revelation or stifle it.
Dmitri had the unsettling thought that he might not be in control of which way that realization would swing. And he liked that he couldn’t begin to guess which way it would go.
He held out a hand. “Come with me.”
“Sorry, but that ship has sailed.” She looked at the bottle of vodka as if just registering that she was holding it. “You had your shot—twice, in fact—and passed. Third time might be a charm, but there’s not enough alcohol in this place to convince me to make a fool of myself over you—again.”
“You’re going to be my wife.” The words felt strange to say aloud to her, as if he were claiming her. He’d told Aiden that he’d allow Keira to make her own choice—and he would—but he’d never given his word that he wouldn’t orchestrate events to drive her to the altar at his side.
She shrugged. “That’s what I hear. No one asked me.”
Dmitri crooked a finger at her. “Come with me, Keira. Yours and mine is not a marriage that starts with bended knee and declarations of devotion. You know that.”
For a moment, she looked so incredibly sad, then she made a visible effort to wipe all expression from her face. She did an admirable job, until only a hint of it lingered in her hazel eyes. She stood, bracing as if going to battle.
Movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention, and he turned to find Mikhail. One look at the man’s face and Dmitri knew the O’Malley men had found Keira. Time to leave. He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “It seems I’m being called away. Until next time, moya koroleva.”
She gave him a grin that was downright lethal. “Dmitri Romanov, marrying me is going to be the worst decision you ever made.”
* * *
With the chaos that had erupted around Aiden’s missing sister, dinner ended as soon as it started. Charlie was almost pathetically grateful to be escorted up to a room and left out of the whole damn thing. She’d signed on for this, but there had been an overwhelming amount of information to absorb in twenty-four hours.
She needed time to adjust.
She was tempted to call her dad and use him as a sounding board the same
way she’d done all through her childhood and most of her adult life. Not anymore. Not since she was branded a dirty cop. That closeness with her dad—that trust—was something she mourned almost more than anything else she’d lost as a result of what Romanov had done.
Not just Romanov.
She yanked off her dress, wishing she could yank out her memories as easily. She’d been naive, maybe, for thinking that all cops were good cops—that the NYPD would fulfill her deep-seated desire for a real family. Oh, rationally she’d been aware that some of them crossed the line, but she hadn’t really thought that when push came to shove, they would turn on her like rabid dogs because she didn’t fall in line and take the bribe money.
The things they’d done after she lost her badge …
Charlie headed for the shower, needing the stinging spray to clear her thoughts. She kept thinking she wanted justice, but that wasn’t strictly the truth. The truth was that she wanted the ones who’d hurt her to pay. Getting a cop indicted was damn near impossible—something she’d been glad of when she wore the badge. It was very easy for civilians to only see the bad cops, the ones who couldn’t be trusted. It was even easier for them to paint all cops in the same light.
They didn’t know how goddamn hard it was to go out into the streets night after night and hold on to her honor. How difficult it was to trust the law to do what was right—and to see the times when the law failed. Theirs wasn’t a perfect system, but it worked more often than it didn’t.
Until she got on the wrong side of it.
She scrubbed harder with the sponge. Sometimes it felt like there were two people living in her skin—the one who still had stars in her eyes, believing that the good guys always won, and the one who saw the world for what it really was. The good guys didn’t always win. They didn’t even usually win.
The ones with power did.
She stepped out of the shower and dried off, looking around the room for the first time since she’d been led here. This is what power looks like. There was nothing overtly proclaiming that the person who lived here had more money than God, but the knowledge was there just the same. It was in the high-end furniture stained a delicious dark brown, and in the thick carpet beneath her bare feet, and in the insanely high thread count of the blankets she ran her hands over. There was the old saying that if you couldn’t beat them, you should join them.
Well, she’d done more than join them.
She’d gone and gotten into bed with them.
Her phone rang as she pulled a ridiculously expensive pair of pajamas out of one of the many bags that had mysteriously appeared in the room while she was in the shower.
Charlie’s chest tightened at the sight of her dad’s number, despite the fact that she’d considered calling him earlier. The last thing she wanted to do was fake a smile and pretend everything was fine. But then, that’s what I’ve been doing for years. What’s one more time? She smiled—it was so much easier to fake a happy tone if she was grinning—and answered. “Hey, Dad.”
“Is everything okay?”
He knows. She fought down the impulse to confess. He’d used that trick on her more times than she could count while she was in high school. Finally, she’d caught on to the fact that he often didn’t know a damn thing until she told him. Confess nothing became her mantra after that. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?” How closely did he keep watch on the O’Malleys and the other families in Boston?
Her dad laughed, but it was as fake as her cheery tone. “No reason. I just worry about you, you know.”
He just lied to me.
“I know.” Bitterness threatened to choke her. Her fall from grace wasn’t her dad’s fault. He should have been in her corner, though—the one person who would back her up no matter what. She’d known one of John Finch’s unforgivable sins was being a dirty cop. She just hadn’t expected him to turn on her because of it.
The truth was he’d always loved his job more than he’d loved anything—anyone. Including her. Any chance she’d had of changing that disappeared with her career in law enforcement. These days, all she had was their regular dinners, complete with strained conversation and quiet judgment.
When she was branded a dirty cop, she’d lost two families.
Maybe she hadn’t even had them to begin with.
She cleared her throat, not liking the way her thoughts were headed. “I’m fine.”
“I stopped by the bar, but Jacques said you were on vacation.”
She frowned. “You were checking up on me.” In the years she’d worked for Jacques, he’d never once gone there. Even before she was kicked out of the force, she and her dad had led separate lives. They’d had their dinners, but that was it. And after … Well, there wasn’t much to talk about without a mutual career in law enforcement. Anyone sane would have stopped trying after the first few months, but if the Finches had nothing else in common these days, they had sheer stubbornness.
To have him suddenly showing up at the bar the day after she agreed to help Aiden …
Charlie didn’t believe in coincidences.
“I’m your father. I was worried about you, so I dropped by.”
She hated his high-and-mighty tone, the one that said he had no intention of explaining himself. He was always so damn sure he knew best, and he thought that gave him permission to do whatever he pleased. Getting him to admit that maybe he’d been wrong was a lesson in impossibility.
Charlie forced the tension out of her voice, though it was a struggle. “It’s been several years. I needed a vacation, so I took one.”
“Spur-of-the-moment, without sending so much as a text to tell me where you’ve gone.” The suspicion in his voice was so thick, it was a wonder he could speak at all.
He definitely knows.
Maybe he had someone watching her, or maybe one of his contacts who monitored the O’Malleys had reported back—but her dad knew exactly where she was. She could keep pretending that everything was peachy, or she could drop the veil and hope he did the same. Even though she knew better, she said, “This is the only way, Dad.”
“Walk out of that house right now, baby. Just walk out. I’ll see that you’re protected.”
Like he’d seen that she was protected from her former brothers-in-arms? No, that’s not fair. What happened to me wasn’t his fault. She paced from one side of the room to the other. It was one thing to suspect that he knew where she was and what she was up to—it was entirely another to know for certain. He’ll never forgive me for this.
Then again, it’s not like our relationship can get more strained and distant.
She’d gone too far. There was no turning back now. She didn’t want to. “No.”
“Charlotte, you listen to me. You’re in over your head and you don’t even know it. He’s using you to get to me.”
She’d suspected her father’s identity had something to do with Aiden choosing her, but she’d let herself put that aside because their purposes aligned for the time being. She’d gone into his scheme with her eyes wide open, even if her dad was determined to see her as an innocent who’d lost her way. And maybe there was a petty part of her that had known that the second her dad found out about this he’d lose his damn mind. “This is something I need to do.”
Maybe if she could see Romanov find justice, she could stop living the half life she’d condemned herself to.
Maybe she could finally move on.
“Baby, you don’t know who these people are.”
She laughed, the sound raw and jagged in her throat. “I know as well as you do.” She’d seen the worst the world could offer, and Aiden wasn’t it. She might be giving him too much credit because her attraction to him was clouding her thoughts … It didn’t matter. He’d help her see her vengeance come to fruition. And after …
There was no point in thinking about after. There was only the here and now.
“I can’t protect you if you stay there.”
“You never could protect me, Dad. I
love you … but you need to stay out of my way.” She hung up before either of them could say something they’d both regret. She hadn’t done anything illegal yet, but there was no telling where she’d end up now that she had chosen her path.
Charlie couldn’t bring herself to care.
CHAPTER SIX
What the fuck were you thinking?” Aiden knew he was losing his temper, but he couldn’t get his control back into place. He wanted to shake Keira until she saw sense, but he knew all too well that it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. Carrigan would be laughing her ass off if she could see him now, in the midst of a battle of wills with their baby sister.
Then again, maybe she’d be as pissed as I am.
He took a deep breath that did nothing to help him get a leash on his anger. “Answer me.”
Keira twined a lock of hair around her finger. “I don’t know why you care. I won’t be your problem much longer, since you’re marrying me off to Dmitri Romanov.”
Over my dead body. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t show the least bit of wavering resolve. No one except Charlie and Liam knew the depth of the game he played, and even those two were a risk.
Liam wouldn’t turn. Aiden had trusted him with his life countless times.
Charlie was something else altogether. Aiden might have picked her initially because of who her father was, but since he’d met her, every instinct he had said that she wanted justice—vengeance—more than she wanted anything else. She was a woman who was intimately acquainted with rock bottom, and she’d been living a life apart until he’d shown up and offered her something she hadn’t dared take for herself.
As long as he didn’t do anything that forced her to confront exactly how similar the O’Malleys and Romanovs were, she would fall in line.
Aiden looked at his baby sister. He hadn’t handled things well with Carrigan and Sloan when it came to their personal lives. He couldn’t afford to make the same mistakes with Keira. He needed her to stop fighting him long enough for him to free her from Romanov.
