The large gathering cheered in excitement. Some held their hands over their mouths as tears formed, others raised their hands in praise.
But while everyone else was excited, Valeriya dropped her head and felt suddenly embarrassed. Looking behind her at Gabriel and Anatoly peering through the doorway, she shook her head. “No one here. That’s for sure. Still, it is a blessing.”
Adora continued. “Whoever it was blew them up with such precision until there is no doubt it was aimed at them. It was a magnificent sight to behold. No other buildings touched. There is no way the Nazis can rebuild which means they must move from there and that means away from the elementary school where they terrorize our children.”
The cheers were loud. Celebrating was something that none of them had done in a very long time. However, this was news to rejoice. They hugged each other and laughed and smiled as the man gave details of what he had seen.
“Well, maybe during war sometimes people celebrate,” Anatoly said without a smile. “But whatever, that’s my cue. With all the distraction, getting out of here should not be a problem,” he said, slipping on his fingerless gloves and his skull cap again. “I told you that I had something in mind for them.”
Gabriel was proud to be a Medlov at that moment. “You did. It was a good thing. You should be…”
Anatoly cut him off. He didn’t want to hear how proud he should be, because he was not. “Now, are you sure you don’t want to head back with me?” He could not help himself, he had to ask his idiot cousin one last time.
Gabriel offered his hand as his answer. “See you in three days.”
“Three days’ tops,” Anatoly warned with a finger pointed toward Gabriel. He shook his cousin’s hand. “Nadei will be here to watch your back. Report in twice a day so we know that you are alright. Don’t get into shit. Just observe.”
“I’ll check in like clockwork,” Gabriel said, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. We’ve done this a hundred times before.”
Anatoly looked through the door at Valeriya and cocked a brow. He exhaled a breath. “Not exactly.” He had a feeling about leaving his cousin alone with that woman. “Just watch your six.”
Turning to head back to the dock with his men, Anatoly heard footsteps moving fast behind him.
“Wait!” Valeriya screamed. She moved right past Gabriel to Anatoly but was stopped in her tracks by Marat, who stood in between them and put a hand to slow her down.
“Whoa,” Marat said. “Don’t run up like that. What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?” he asked in a low calm voice.
Anatoly turned around and looked at Valeriya. “Da, what is it?” He didn’t want to say that he was in a rush, but he was. The clock was counting down. Pretty soon, someone would figure out the drone attack was a distraction.
“Did you…” She released a breath and calmed her voice. “Are you responsible for the bombing?” Gratitude laced her voice and hope lingered somewhere mixed in the weariness of her tired eyes.
“No,” Anatoly said, looking at Gabriel. “He is. Consider it a gift…for your brat.” Winking as Valeriya turned to Gabriel, he quietly exited with his men.
Valeriya was speechless. Looking up at Gabriel, she tried to find words to thank him, but there was something that was holding her back. Pride? That was what it was. Pride. It held at the gate of her mouth refusing to allow her to thank the man responsible for her brother’s death. Still, she felt horrible. This wasn’t the type of person she normally was. Graciousness had always been one of her better qualities, if she had any good ones at all.
Gabriel waited and for some reason wanted her to thank him. Maybe it was because of the blatant disdain she seemed to have for him, or maybe it was because of the sudden need in him for her like him just a little, but whatever it was, it compelled him to wait. He stood only inches away from her, looking down into her eyes, at her mouth.
Only Valeriya could not make herself say it. Swallowing down the gratitude she so wanted to extend, she nodded at him and stepped around his massive frame, ducking her head. “If you will excuse me, Gabriel, I must get back to packing the food so that it doesn’t spoil.”
“You mean like the mood,” Gabriel said, before he could catch himself. He turned to look at her.
She looked over her shoulder but did not respond. Maybe she deserved that. Walking away, she slumped her shoulders in embarrassment.
Chapter Seven
Unhealthy Competition…
Ivana Tkachenka Street
Donetsk Oblast, Ukraine
The Nadiya Hotel was once the gem of Ivana Tkachenka Street in the Donetsk oblast. While small in comparison to some of the other hotels across the city in more ritzy districts, it was by every stretch of the imagination, beautiful. Crown molding on all the ceilings, marble floors, exotic rugs, beautiful paintings, hand-crafted furniture, fragrances from across the world, fine bone china, the best food in the entire oblast and the best customer service that anyone could ever expect. It was a five-star establishment that boasted reasonable prices not only for those who could visit Ukraine but also for those who could not afford to leave.
In its prime, the hotel was a reflection of its name. Nadiya meant hope in Ukrainian and for the people who lived in the community, it did just that, provide hope through jobs for families and business for the area. Now, it lay in ruin, destroyed by shelling from both sides, vandalized by the Neo-Nazis. Empty because its owners were murdered as they tried to protect the guests inside.
No matter its sad history, Valeriya still considered it home. Her mother and father opened the hotel when they first came to this country fresh out of college. They grew the business, grew their family and provided people hope. Now that they were gone, she had to carry the torch. Only, she wasn’t focused on providing people a five-star experience. She was focused on providing people an opportunity to live.
She thought of that as she watched the 50 families that she housed in her hotel joyously celebrate the food and wine that they received with the shipment of munitions delivered by the Medlovs. Discussions of late had been focused on where they would come by needed food, personal items and provisions to survive last week’s attacks, and Gabriel and Anatoly had answered the questions that they were plagued with overnight. Everyone loved the rich strangers. They sang their praises continuously as they rushed to start to separating the food and setting it up for distribution of the munitions in the morning.
“I hate that it was them,” Valeriya said to her brother as he boxed up the rifles that needed to go out first thing in the morning.
He looked up from his work confused. “You hate what was them?” His sister had a knack for starting in the middle of a sentence and expecting him to know what she was talking about, but he never did.
Valeriya started back to counting and boxing bullets. Her voice lowered. “I hate that the people responsible for Andrei’s death are also now regarded as our saviors.” She grabbed the duct tape and secured the box in front of her before moving on to another one. “It’s disgusting.”
“They are not responsible for our brother’s death,” Andriy defended. Standing up from his crouching position, he walked over to Valeriya and put his hand on her right shoulder. “If you are going to win this, you have to see the big picture, sestra. It takes a little help from everyone in order to help our country. If that help comes in the form of those two men, who are we to turn it away?”
Valeriya touched his hand and looked up into his brown eyes. “I must be in a bad place. I’m taking advice from my teenage brother.”
He chuckled. “I might be young, but I am wise.”
She did not deny that. Andriy was wise and kind and a very hard worker, which was why she would not inundate him with her psychological bullshit. “You’re right,” she said in a reassuring tone.
“About which part,” he asked, winking at her.
“That you are wise,” she quipped with pure, nonjudgmental love in her voice.
>
“But not the rest?” he asked. He wanted to hear her say it, maybe then she could go back to being focused on the push to get supplies to their people. Ever since the Medlov men had arrived, she seemed different, unsure of herself.
Valeriya ran a hand through her curly natural locks. “The rest too,” she said, pride crumbling on the floor beneath her. She said it for him, but she did not mean it.
Rounding the corner with napkin full of hard salami and a bottle of vodka, Olek eyed Valeriya sitting at the table near a candle with her back turned to him. He also saw her little brother – a problem for him currently. There were things that they needed to discuss in private and he didn’t want Andriy to hear. Although, he didn’t want to, he had seen her reaction to the Medlov man earlier when he was helping the men unload at the dock, and he saw something no one else would have noticed, and something no one else would have known. Now, he had a feeling that this Gabriel would get in the way of his plans.
Andriy turned from the table and glanced at the food in Olek’s hands as he entered the room. Being that he was a growing, teenage boy with a grumbling stomach, his gears changed. “Is there more where that came from?” he asked, looking at Olek’s food. He hadn’t had salami since last year and would like a taste before it was all gone.
“You better hurry to the kitchen if you want some,” Olek urged with a grin. “I saw the other boys circling around the trays like vultures. It will be gone before you know it.”
Quickly, Andriy left the room, slapping Olek on the back as he almost trotted toward the promise of a full stomach.
“The women are in the kitchen preparing the biggest feast we’ve seen in quite some time,” Olek said to Valeriya, closing the door behind him.
Valeriya looked his way for a moment in between boxing another box of bullets. Nonchalantly, she shrugged. “That’s good. Everyone will be pleased with having a decent meal that doesn’t come from cans. I know that I will… as soon as I finish here.” She didn’t notice the tone in his voice but she did pick up in the look in his eyes when she glanced at him. “What is it?” she asked, finally realizing the door was closed.
He took a seat across from her and put his food down for a moment. Under the candlelight, her face looked more angelic than ever. “How long is that man going to be here?”
“Gabriel,” she looked away from Olek. Saying his name in front of Olek made her uncomfortable for some reason. Her heart skipped a beat. “I don’t know. He says three days.” She tried to even out her voice, hearing it go high for a second.
Olek wasn’t thrilled at the prospect. “Why so long?”
She smacked her lips. “He wants to make sure that we are pleased with him.”
“That you are pleased with him,” Olek finished. His nostrils flared in contempt of the idea that maybe something else was happening, even if Valeriya didn’t recognize it yet. He had lost her to the cause, and that he had to accept, but there was no way that he would lose her to that man and all his money.
Valeriya could hear the allegation in his voice, but she wasn’t sure of what. The long, bronze-tipped bullets clinked against each other as she dropped them in the wooden box. Rolling her eyes, she twisted up her lips at him. “That we are pleased, Olek. He knows he cost my brother his life because of his decision not to deliver here in the first place. I assume that he is staying here because he wants to keep our business despite his enormous fuck up.”
Olek scratched his nose and gave a quick sniff. Business… yeah right. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“What exactly am I supposed to believe?” Valeriya stopped packing bullets all together and focused all of her attention on Olek. Planting her elbows on the table, she studied him. His body language was all wrong - tight and rigid, accusatory even. “What is really going on with you? Did the captains send you up here?”
“Have they ever?” he frowned. Loyalty was something that he grew tired of trying to defend. “I came here because I’m concerned, not because someone sent me, not that they could even if they wanted to.”
“About what exactly are you concerned? The food is obviously not a problem.” Looking at his half-eaten salami, she bit her lip. That was mean and uncalled for. Immediately, she wanted to take it back.
Olek stood to leave seeing that it would be impossible to reach her tonight, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him back.
“Wait.” She huffed, rolling her eyes at her short temper. “Sit, spasibo. This is silly, Olek. You are my lieutenant. Tell me what is on your mind.” Tugging at his hand, she made him sit back down. “What am I not seeing?”
Flushed red in anger, Olek plopped back down in the hard wooden chair and licked his lips. The vodka was starting to get to him, having been deprived of it for so long. “I have a bad feeling about that man and his intentions. He looks at you like he wants to eat you whole.” Jealousy flourished in his eyes.
Valeriya sat back in her chair. “Do you think that he wants to harm me?” she asked, sincerely concerned. Maybe the attack on her brother had been a well-orchestrated hit instead of an ambush, and maybe she was next. With all that had happened, she had to admit that she wasn’t herself, and it was quite possible that she had missed obvious signs that she was in danger.
Olek eyes roamed from her face down to her breasts, longing to have her in his embrace. His mouth watered. “I think he wants to fuck you,” Olek answered. He clinched his jaw as he thought of her naked.
Valeriya gasped. Was that was this was about? “Don’t be ridiculous.” She shook her head and tried to act as though she didn’t already know in the hopes that she could hide her own attraction toward Gabriel. She hated herself for it, the natural almost supernatural way that he seemed to draw her into him. He was like a witch with those gypsy eyes and that intoxicating smell.
“I’m not being ridiculous,” Olek contested, taking another large gulp of vodka straight from the bottled. He slammed it on the table. “I’m a man. I know what I’m talking about. But you, so very in tune with everything, you mean to tell me that you don’t see it?” His eyes narrowed on her, waiting for a response. He needed to hear her say that she wasn’t interested in Gabriel, even if he was interested in her.
Valeriya was normally very transparent in everything, but in this she had to tread carefully. Olek wasn’t just her lieutenant, he was… much more. Looking at the bottle of vodka, she sat up a little straighter. “I think the vodka has gotten to you. That man is only here for one thing,” she said, lying to herself. “He has no interest in the likes of me.”
Olek threw his head back and looked at the ceiling. Laughing, he swallowed hard. How did he not expect her to deny it?
“What?” Valeriya asked, put off by his response. “Why do you laugh?”
Olek licked his lips again, feeling lust boiling with the mix of alcohol in his system. “I just realized something.” He looked at her. “You want him to want you. That’s why you didn’t send him away.”
“Are you insane?” Her face tightened with indignation. Leaning over toward him, she sneered. “I’ll pretend that you didn’t say that. I’ll excuse you for being drunk, but if you accuse me again…” Standing up herself, she tried to walk away from the table, but Olek grabbed her quickly by her arm and pulled her around the table into his lap.
Running a hand down her soft face, he looked at her parted mouth, wanting to kiss her sculpted, sensual lips.
Warmth from his large body engulfed her and in that moment, she saw exactly what had led her to be with him in the first place – a look of complete control.
It was something a woman in her position was without – the ability to give over control. No one could have control of her, but how she longed in the middle of the night to submit, to lose herself in something other than this cause. An aching started deep in the creases of her tight jeans, pulsing with unattended need.
“Olek,” she whispered, more as a warning instead of desire. “What are you doing?” Erratic breathing escaped her a
s her nipples hardened.
My God, she thought to herself, I don’t even know how to sound like a woman in need anymore.
“Valeriya,” he whispered, more in tune with his desires. “I love you still,” he confessed. “And you still love me, da?”
“Do I love you,” she asked, voice husky. “Yes, you are my comrade.” But she knew that the type of love he was suggesting had long gone from her. Still, he looked so damn good to her under the candlelight.
For a moment, Valeriya forgot herself. It had been so long since she had been with a man, this man. The last time that she allowed herself to lay with a man, it was him who had held her, him who had made love to her, so slow and deep. And now, in this chaotic state, she almost gave in as he moved close to her mouth, preparing to kiss her, determined to take her again.
But then she thought of what it might do to their already unstable structure and she realized that if she was going to lead, she need to first start with self-control.
“Stop,” she said, as his mouth hovered so close to hers that she could feel his breath.
Olek did as she asked. His eyes burned through her as lust turned to anger. “Is it me or is it him that stops you?”
Her eyes widened. “It’s the vodka,” she said, pushing up out of his lap and away from his angry erection.
Olek stood up too. Wiping the beads of sweat that started to form on his face, he bit his lip. “It’s the man. I assure you.” Opening the door, he stormed out, slamming it shut behind him.
Valeriya leaned against the table and took a deep breath. “Fuck,” she said, holding her forehead. Grateful that he left the bottle, she picked it up and took a large swig. Maybe what she needed to do was have a few drinks herself to take the edge off.
Gabriel's Regret: Book 1 (The Medlov Men Series 2) Page 11
