Gangster

by Sapphire Knight

  “Thank you, I appreciate it.” Returning her smile, I stand and push in my chair.

  She pats my shoulder, reaching up since I practically dwarf her. “You come back again before you leave town.”

  “How did you—” I’m cut off before I get the rest out.

  “You’re not the only one who likes to watch the world. Besides, that sweet southern voice kind of gives you away.” She winks and makes her way back to the counter.

  Shit. I have an accent? I sound Russian to me when I speak, but apparently not to others. It could work to my benefit if that’s the case. I try to hide my accent, and if the southern one is covering it up, it’ll be that much easier when we’re handling business.

  The door chimes on my way out, and the chill hits me again as I head back onto the sidewalk. It’s not the breeze this time causing me to shiver, but a familiar feminine voice.

  “Grazie!” is shouted across the street, and the beautiful sound has my eyes shooting to a woman in a long black dress coat, waving and smiling at a driver in a gray BMW seven series. He waves back, cheeks red, most likely a result of her gorgeous white smile.

  She turns so I can get a better glimpse of her face, and as she does, my chest tightens in excitement? Anxiety? Hope? Surprise?

  “Victoria.” Her name leaves my lips on an exhale.

  I searched for her—for nearly five years—and never came up with a trace of her and yet she’s across this very street, right in front of me.

  After looking for so long, wondering, dreaming, hell even wishing for her to appear, here she is. You’d think I’d run and shout after her, but I do what any stupid man would do—I choke. Her shine has me speechless, her smile making my feet take root to stare at her, wishing I could watch her for the rest of my life.

  All of those long, lonely nights, I spent scouring the internet for her, the ‘what if’ in the back of my mind. Nothing happened to her, though; she’s here—healthy and more stunning than ever—in Chicago. The city that’s full of the Italian Mafia’s most notorious criminals.

  How did I never notice it before? She looks one hundred percent Italian. And I’m one hundred percent Russian.Russian Bratva that is. Fuck.

  I can’t pull my eyes away from her, watching her until she disappears down a small alleyway between buildings. She’s crazy to be walking down there alone. What was the driver thinking, to let her go off like that?

  Horns blare loudly as my legs suddenly have me sprinting across the busy street, not paying an ounce of attention to the angry drivers being forced to screech to a halt to miss me. There’s shouting, but I ignore it, heading straight for that same alleyway where Victoria disappeared.

  Peeking around the corner of the building, I’m met with emptiness. There are a few dumpsters, enough space for a few vehicles to park snuggly, and nothing else. I couldn’t have lost her so easily after barely finding her. Surely the universe isn’t that cruel to give me a glimpse after five lengthy years just to have Victoria pull a disappearing act on me.

  Striding down the asphalt, I check around the dumpsters. I want to make sure she isn’t hiding or anything. You’d think I was looking for money or some other prized possession with me bending over and getting on my hands and knees to look under the garbage containers.

  I come back empty-handed and disappointed. Let’s face it, she couldn’t fit underneath the dumpster no matter how much she wiggled and squirmed. After looking around, I discover an entrance near the back corner on one of the buildings as well as what looks like a door large enough for a private garage.

  What is this place anyhow? I didn’t pay any attention earlier, which I should have. I get paid to notice things for shit’s sake; now, here I am running off like some excited kid.

  Trekking toward the busy street, I stop just shy of the sidewalk, peering up at the front of the building.Chicago Gala de Arts.

  She likes art? That would explain another reason why I couldn’t shake her. I enjoy reading, and if she’s the artsy type, then it could be that we both have creative minds.

  Let’s also not forget about the sex. God, the sex. It was unbelievable with her. Explosive comes to mind when I think of how I held her against the brick building at Viktor’s cabin. I couldn’t get enough of her body, of her smell. Her lips tasted like strawberries; I’ll never forget that. Her long chocolate locks felt like silk wrapped around my fingers and her voice—Jesus, her voice was rough with desire as I drove into her. The back of my neck prickles with beads of sweat as I remember our one time together.

  Twisting the cap off one of the Dr. Peppers, I take a large gulp. It helps with my dry throat but not with my suddenly tight pants. The wail from a passing siren brings me back to the present.

  Maybe I should wait in the alley for a little while and see if she comes back out anytime soon. I’d hate to leave knowing she’s in there and could come back out at any time. I wonder if she’d want to see me again.

  Of course, she would. I remember her parting words at Viktor’s wedding: If it’s meant to be, we’ll see each other again.

  I was so damn cocky, thinking that since I had access to the guest info sheet that I’d easily find her after we returned from the honeymoon detail. I was wrong. The address she gave was a fake. That was the first thing that threw me off. I couldn’t understand why she’d lie about it; the address info was only so the bride and groom could send thank you notes.

  Her name came up as a dead-end also. Well, it did pull up a few, but one woman was eighty-eight, and the other was a twelve-year-old kid. I’d figured Victoria as twenty-nine or thirty now. Still, five years ago, she wouldn’t have fit with either choice I had discovered.

  Staying close to the alleyway entrance, I lean against the building to wait and pull my cell free. I should give Alexei a heads-up, so he doesn’t come out with the cavalry, thinking I’ve been overrun by the Italian mob. He’d love that; probably laugh his ass off at me.

  He doesn’t pick up when I try calling so I send him a text instead.

  Me: Got held up downtown, won’t make it in time for dinner.

  Alexei: We’ll handle it.

  Pretty much the response I was expecting. Neither one of us ever call off just to go shamming, so I didn’t think he’d be too pissed. Besides, I’ll be there to keep watch for the fight and other errands.

  While I’m texting, I should check in on Elaina. She may have other guards there to watch over her, but I’ve gotten used to being the one to look out for her.Me: How are you holding up?

  Elaina: Spar! I miss you guys, but Sabrina is keeping me busy. Baby planning is a lot like wedding planning.

  Yuck. Maybe it’s a good thing I came on this trip after all. If I were home, I’d get stuck with painting anything they find pastel and a million questions about why I don’t have any kids yet.

  Me: Have fun.

  Elaina: OOO

  Hugs. She sent me a text with three hugs. Sometimes I think she’s trying to get me killed by her husband.

  Smiling at her hugs message on the screen, my finger hits delete. I want to stay alive, and I can already imagine the creative ways Viktor would find to end me if he saw her message. Mine and Elaina’s relationship is strictly platonic, but I’m not about to give anyone a reason to speculate differently.

  Shaking my head at that thought, I stuff my phone back in my pocket and train my gaze back on the door. No way am I missing her again.

  Six hours later, one hell of a temperature drop and I’m still posted up against the cold brick building keeping watch. I think it’s safe to say that the building and its events are long over. About an hour ago, the oversized entry slid open to reveal a convoy of expensive cars all filled with overdressed old ladies and their drivers en route somewhere.

  I’m assuming it must’ve been some charity event being held or an art show of some type. I wish I would’ve gone inside when it was still open. Judging by the women I saw, though, I’m entirely underdressed.

  The ache inside has come back.
It’s the same feeling I had when I first realized that I couldn’t find her. I could ask my Boss. He’d probably help, but I don’t want him going out of his way for me.

  Getting a good look at her again, I wouldn’t want him discovering her Italian heritage either. He’s not biased by any means, but he is Mafiya and I know there would be doubt resting in the back of his mind about my loyalty.

  I can’t jeopardize my own goals. Someday I hope to be right next to Alexei, next to Viktor. I want to be the Boss’ right hand. He’s told me before that I have the most important job there is—protecting his wife. I’m grateful, really, but I can’t help wanting to gain ranks in our organization. The right hand to the Bratva ‘King’ is something any real soldier in Russia would dream of. So much comes along with being a General: money, responsibility, trust, and even your own set of men directly under you. The only one you answer to is the Boss himself, a true honor.

  My phone chimes. It’s the alert that we’re all due back at the room. Viktor must’ve finished with his business meetings.

  Shit. I haven’t seen her yet. But I have to leave. If I miss her right now, I’ll regret it forever; I know it. I have to see her.

  Marching over to the back door, I attempt to pull it open. Of course, it’s locked.

  Trekking to the main entrance up front, I try those doors as well. They’re locked and the lobby’s dark. The only lights on are the accent lights next to plants. Shit, how did she get by without me seeing her? I just assumed she’d exit from the back door; it didn’t cross my mind that she’d leave through the front. God, I’m such an idiot.

  The ache in my heart grows stronger knowing I’ve lost her again… Five years and I let her slip right through my fingers.

  Chapter 3

  I Must Forget

  Three days have passed, yet I can’t get her out of my head. Instead of doing my job, I’m busy scouring our surroundings. Every time we go somewhere, I can’t help but look for her, hoping for another chance at finding her. This time I won’t screw it up.

  “Spartak?”

  “Huh?” I’m drawn away from gazing around the restaurant. We’re escorting Viktor and his brother Tate while they eat. Our priority this trip is supposed to be keeping them safe, and I’ve done a shit job so far. I’m not looking for potential threats, but a feisty Italian woman with a body made for sin and that could get someone injured—or worse—taken out.

  “Nikoli was talking to you,” Alexei grumbles and I turn toward Tate’s right-hand man, Nikoli.

  Niko scrunches his forehead. “What is with you?” he asks in his deep Russian accent.

  “Nothing, I didn’t sleep well.” The lie slips out before I can stop it. I don’t know why I’m not truthful with him. He’d most likely understand with everything he went through with his own wife. They weren’t apart as long as Victoria and me, but their relationship was much closer than mine is.

  It’s the Italian thing again; I know it. He may relate to me wanting to search for Victoria, but in the end, he’d be more concerned whether she posed a threat to the organization or not. Do I resent them for that?

  No.

  I can’t. It’s not fair of me to come in from the outside and then not be supportive of them being cautious. Most relationships in my line of work don’t pan out anyhow. Who am I to tell them that their methods are wrong. I’m a soldier—plain and simple. They order and I follow. So why in the hell can’t I just push her to the side and forget her?

  One thing that’s always bothered me and continues to drive a wedge in is why didn’t she just come back? She knew where to find me, how to reach me. Sure, our business is secretive, but she was at Viktor’s house; she could have shown up, sent a letter, something.

  Maybe our one night was everything to me and yet nothing to her? I need to forget about Victoria and all of it. A quick fuck is just that—fast, satisfying, and over. They’re supposed to be the best kind, but why have no others compared to the one I had with her?

  “You are love-sick, not tired,” Niko mutters and shakes his head, turning back to watch over the Bosses.

  Alexei’s eyebrow rises as he glances at me skeptically. “Is it true?”

  “Who would I love? There are no women around us; you know this.” Besides, love-sick is taking my condition a bit too far. I’m merely distracted and that’s going to stop.

  “So, do you think ‘The Ripper’ is going to win the fight tomorrow night?” He changes the subject, as he quickly scans over the restaurant.“I hope so; I have a few bets on it.”

  “Oh? Who do you bet?”

  “The other men. They do a big pot each fight and those who win split the payout. They’ve never asked you to put in?”

  “I’m a General. Viktor would never allow it.”

  “I didn’t think of it that way. Is that why you’re never at chow with us when we’re all at the cabin?”

  He nods. “I can have a drink or a game of cards; otherwise, I usually speak to Nikoli if I require company.”

  “And me?”

  “You’re a little different; you watch the Boss’ wife.”

  “Yeah, I always have?” I say it as a question because Alexei and I have been on a lot of details together. We may not be close by any means, but after so many years, we know each other. I still wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if I had to, but I also respect him.

  “It puts you above the other men. You may see yourself as one of the men, but they see you as one of us.” He looks toward Nikoli, and Niko nods his agreeance.

  No way.

  “But I’m not one of you.” It comes out absently as my mind races over my recent interactions with the other guards and if they’ve seemed different around me.

  “No, you are not. But you’re smart, Spartak; you are close to being one of us. With time, you will be. Viktor wasn’t kidding when he told you that guarding his wife was the most important job. Notice he didn’t give it to me.”

  “Why are you telling me this? Wouldn’t this make you hate me?”

  “I let you know because you’re young and I see you distracted. If I notice it, then so does Nikoli, Viktor, and Tate. It’s not a good look on you and can get you hurt—fast. And I don’t hate you. I appreciate it that there’s someone else who’s qualified to help me do my job.”

  I’m in shock that he sees me like that. I always believed that he thought of me more as a nuisance than an ally. Alexei’s right; if he can see it, so can others. No more, I’m a soldier first.

  “Thank you.”

  He doesn’t respond, staying alert as the Bosses and the heavyweight champ stand up, finished with their business meal. They push their chairs in and make their way toward us.

  I may not be able to forget about Victoria completely, but I’m able to tuck her away into the back of my mind long enough to do my job and get a decent night’s sleep.

  The next day passes by fairly quickly. After doing a sweep of the arena for the better part of a Saturday afternoon, we finally take our seats around the Bosses, ready for fight night. They’ve roped a small area off for our group, making things a little easier on us.

  Nikoli sits to the left of Tate and Alexei to the right of Viktor. Tate’s second man sits behind them, and I take the seat directly in front of them. This way they get the most protection possible, being surrounded by their guards.

  Tate immediately checks his phone, grumbling. “Damn, Emily was supposed to text me and let me know how cheer practice went.”

  Viktor grins. “Relax moy brat; Emily can handle Angel’s first cheer class. I can’t believe you agreed to it in the first place.”

  “Em wouldn’t stop going on how it was a Texas thing for little girls to be cheerleaders; I reminded her we live in Tennessee.”

  “And that didn’t work?”

  “Hell no! She threw her flip-flop at me, and I gave in.”

  Viktor laughs softly. “Sounds about right.”

  He would know all about it. Viktor was a very cold man when I first came
to work for him. His wife has softened him up a bit. Well, maybe not softened, but lightened his darkness. He’s learned to compromise in a world where his word is usually considered final.

  The few extra seats in our section remind me that their cousin was supposed to join us. “Boss, is Beau still coming?”

  “He had something come up and headed to Tennessee last night. I’m sure he’ll fill us all in once we’re home.”

  His words are code for something happened so be ready to work tonight. I better sleep on the flight; who knows how long I may end up being awake to help Beau with whatever’s going on.

  Tate’s phone beeps and he sighs. “Finally. She sent a picture of Angel in her uniform.”

  “Let me see, moy brat.” Viktor takes the phone, turning it so we can all see Tate’s six-year-old daughter. She’s dressed in a bright orange cheer uniform, blonde pigtails and holding white pom-poms. He’s going to be in trouble when she gets older, and he has to start hiding bodies of teenage boys. We all grin seeing her bright smile—missing one of her front teeth—on the screen.

  I don’t have any children, but I know some of the guards do and they don’t get to see them much. Most of their families still live in Russia, so when Tate and Nikoli’s kids are around, they’re very loved by us all.

  Tate’s daughter, Angel, loves to bring baked goods over and hand them out to everyone. She’s already turning into a little Russian lady, trying to feed the guards pastries.

  Still smiling about the little Printsyessa’s picture, I face forward again. Hopefully, the fight starts soon. I’m going to get hungry here shortly if not. Scanning the crowd across from me, a silent gasp leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

  She’s here.

  Of all the places to find her again, Victoria is sitting nearly straight across from me. She’s in another small, roped-off area, surrounded by large Italian men. She looks like a million bucks in her white sequin dress, showcasing every curve she owns. She’s thicker than when I had her at Viktor’s wedding. Her thighs are slightly bigger, her waist too. She’s filled out into a woman, no longer the young lady I first met, and she’s absolutely ravishing.