Russian Enforcer's Royal Engagement (Russian Enforcers Book 7)

by Nic Saint

  This was supposed to be the greatest day of her life not the worst.

  As far as she could make out they were after Mike’s sister Diana. Why that was so she didn’t know. She just wished they’d listened to Jack when he warned them about some chatter he’d picked up. Emails about an impending attack.

  Being newbies at this, both she and Mike had listened to Armand, who’d told them Jack was a great guy but a little excitable at times—prone to mistake rumor for fact.

  And now here they were, wading knee-deep through shit creek.

  She looked at the other women. Erik’s wife was a secretary, Alex’s a law graduate, Roman’s a Broadway actress and Yulian’s a reporter. Not really the kind of people she felt comfortable going into battle with. She doubted whether any of these ladies had ever seen a gun let alone held one in their hands and squeezed off a shot.

  She just wished she’d tucked her piece in her garter belt like she’d intended to. She felt stupid sitting here in her wedding dress. For one thing, she could at least have popped the asshole who kept staring at her. At the very least.

  She fingered the two stilettos in her thigh holsters. No way had she left those behind, and if the freak ogled her one more time, she had every intention of taking him down. She might be a married woman now, working for King Francois as part of his security detail, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take matters into her own hands any time she chose to.

  She wondered where Armand was. If anyone could get them out of this mess it was the weathered old security pro. Perhaps he was hiding out somewhere, coordinating a rescue attempt. Didn’t France have its very own SWAT? Damn, she should have paid more attention during those daily briefings Armand had been holding, getting her and Mike up to speed on the situation in the kingdom.

  She hoped the cavalry, once they arrived, would strike fast and furious. She wanted to watch the assholes who’d ruined her wedding bleed. She wanted them to die in agony, crying for their mommies. She was old-fashioned that way.

  “What do they want from us?” asked Laura, Alex’s wife.

  “Beats me,” sighed Dora. “But I feel like I’m in that Dynasty episode where they take the entire Carrington clan hostage. Remember that one? No?” She shook her blond curls. “Guess I’m getting old.”

  “I think it’s some sort of dispute with the royal family,” opined Jackie. “Perhaps they’re trying to extort money from them.”

  “Could very well be,” agreed Laura. “King Francois is probably rich.”

  “Try loaded,” snorted Julia. “I did a piece on the House of Montinia last year. The king is one of the richest men in France.”

  “Or they could be after your husband,” said Dora. “Yulian’s been in the news a lot lately. Perhaps they thought he’d be more vulnerable here in Europe?”

  “No one would dare come after Yulian,” countered Julia huffily. “At least if they value their lives.”

  “Same can be said for any of us,” said Jackie tremulously. “We’re all Petrovs now, aren’t we? Who in their right mind would come after us? They know the family will rain down hellfire on them if they hurt us.”

  “Then why are they targeting Diana?” asked Emily.

  The others were silent for a beat. When the leader of the outfit of bandits had threatened to kill the king unless someone told him where Diana was it had baffled them.

  “Perhaps he’s one of Diana’s old boyfriends?” suggested Dora, “and he’s pissed she hasn’t returned his phone calls?”

  At least you could always count on Dora to crack a joke, even in the direst of circumstances, Emily thought with a grim smile.

  “I think we’re about to find out,” whispered Julia, gesturing to the door. Emily looked up sharply, and was shocked to find Diana and Prince Jacques stepping into the room, held at gunpoint by the terrorist leader.

  Fuck. They’d found them.

  This wasn’t good.

  And where was SWAT?

  Surreptitiously, she fingered her stilettos. If that bastard dared harm one hair on Diana’s head, she would take him out, she swore. She had two stilettos, one for each eyeball if the fucker so much as glared at her sister-in-law.

  CHAPTER 12

  His moment had finally arrived. Triumphantly, Alastair Equine looked around the room as he walked Diana Petrov into their midst. He wished he could yank off his mask and look each and every one of those present in the whites of their eyes as he shouted out his triumph.

  He shoved Diana down roughly, forcing her to take a seat with her brothers, then he watched as Jack tried to stare him down defiantly. The man was dangerous, he knew. Special forces and only just returned from Iraq. They’d already taken two pieces from the man: a Glock and a nifty little peashooter from his ankle holster. But even without a gun the man was lethal. He pointed to the floor next to Rudolph. “Join your brother, Your Highness.”

  Let the games begin. He finally had them all by the nuts.

  “What’s this all about?” demanded Valery, the woman’s father. “Why have you taken us hostage?”

  Well, that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

  He gestured for the old man to shut up. He coughed, and took a wide stance in front of the group. Time for the wedding speech.

  “First of all I would like to thank you all for gathering here today. I’m so glad you turned out en masse. Secondly, a special thanks to King Francois for hosting this party. Much obliged, dear fellow,” he offered with a curtsy to the old ruler who glared back at him. “And of course a round of applause to one of our main sponsors.” He pointed to Yulian Gornakov. “In case you didn’t know, Yulian is one of the richest men in Russia. Try that on for size!”

  “What the hell do you want, asshole?” Yulian grunted irritably.

  “Patience, Mr. Gornakov,” Alastair urged. “All will become clear very soon.” He turned to Diana, who sat staring up at him with a look that could kill. “Now, young lady, let me tell you a story.”

  “Unless it’s the story of how you’re going to let my family go, I’m not interested,” Diana returned defiantly.

  He laughed, then trained his weapon on her. “I’m sorry to say I won’t be able to accommodate you.” He watched the frown on her face deepen into a look of such hate he felt it searing through him. Gimme more, honey! he thought. Gimme all you got! “Now let’s all settle down,” he continued, “and listen up. This story takes us back a few years, to a time when Yulian was a wee lad of ten. Remember those halcyon days, Yulian?”

  Yulian didn’t respond, but merely gave him a dirty look that could easily compete with those the others were casting him. He grinned. Tough crowd. Just the way he liked it. “Now when you were ten something big happened, didn’t it? One day your daddy came home with a present—a baby sister for little Yulian! Shortly afterward, Yuri dumped his wife, but that was par for the course. He divorced your mother too, didn’t he? The man never did have much use for a woman who couldn’t breed an heir to his throne.”

  “What is it to you?” grumbled Yulian, then shut up when Alastair rattled his weapon.

  “I’m talking now, Yulian. I know it’s hard for you to cede the floor, but humor me, please. You might be surprised to know that not one baby girl was born that day but two, much to Yuri’s dismay. He wanted sons—big, healthy boys who would one day take over the business. So he gave orders to do away with the girls.”

  “You lying sack of shit,” countered Yulian. “I have one sister, and she’s alive and kicking.”

  “That’s the sister your stepmother managed to save,” he pointed out. “After much begging and pleading Yuri allowed her to keep one of the babies.” He pointed to Yulian. “Can you deny that you didn’t meet your sister until she was a grown woman? When your father finally mellowed and decided that perhaps he’d been a little hasty?”

  Yulian shrugged. “That’s not a big secret. Everybody knows Anzhelika grew up with her mother and we were only reunited a couple of years ago. She’s as much pa
rt of the family as I am,” he added vehemently.

  “She is, but what about her twin?” Alastair asked.

  Yulian frowned. “What are you talking about? There is no twin.”

  “Oh, but there is,” Alastair continued. “Anzhelika had a sister.”

  He watched as Valery Petrov shuffled uncomfortably on the floor, clearly not at ease. He grinned behind his mask. Let the old man squirm, he thought. It served him right for keeping this a secret all these years.

  “The sister you never knew, Yulian,” he continued, “would be, what, twenty-eight years old now?”

  “There is no sister, asshole,” Yulian spat. “Stop spouting nonsense.”

  Alastair grinned. “I’m happy to introduce you to the sister you never knew you had, Mr. Gornakov.” He took a firm grip on Diana’s arm and jerked her up. “Meet Anastasiya Gornakov, the girl your father spurned twenty-eight years ago.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Diana’s jaw dropped, or it would have if she’d not been gritting her teeth. Being manhandled by this maniac seriously pissed her off and she was just wondering if a well-aimed kick to the guy’s nuts wouldn’t be the ticket to solve this mess once and for all. But then he pointed his gun at her, and she thought better of it. It wasn’t just the one guy. He had seven associates who were probably just as trigger-happy as this cocksucker.

  And then he dropped his bombshell.

  At first she didn’t understand what he was talking about. She saw his eyes glitter behind the mask when he spoke the words, “Welcome in our midst, Anastasiya.”

  She stared at him, not comprehending. “What is this, some kind of sick joke?” she hurled at him. “Well, it’s not funny!”

  “You are my ticket to fortune, Anastasiya,” he drawled, taking a firmer grip on her arm and separating her from the others. “So I’m going to take very good care of you from now on. But first of all, let’s address these incredulous faces here.” He walked over to her dad and pointed his gun to the shell-shocked man’s temple.

  “Dad!” she cried when she saw what the terrorist was about to do.

  “Please tell her the truth, Valery,” the horrible man urged. “Please tell her who she really is.”

  The old man didn’t speak, but merely stared before him morosely.

  “Will you speak, or do I have to ask your wife?”

  At the mention of Mom, Dad’s eyes narrowed and shot fire. Then the fire died, and he hung his head. “It’s true,” he muttered. He directed a pleading look at her, and tears sprang to Diana’s eyes. What was he talking about?

  “Diana, honey…we meant to tell you, but…”

  “But you lacked the courage, didn’t you?” Alastair thundered.

  “Not courage,” the man growled. “We raised her as our own, and to us Diana’s always been our daughter, no matter what.”

  “I’m sure she was,” scoffed the terrorist.

  She shook her head, not able to process what was happening here. “Are you telling me…I’m not your daughter, daddy?” she whispered. Her father’s haunted look nearly floored her.

  He shook his head. “We took you in when you were only a baby. Ekatarina—your…mother—was afraid Yuri would kill you if he ever found out the truth. She’d managed to convince him to spare your sister, but he refused to save both. Anna and I were in Moscow at the time, visiting with the family, and Ekatarina implored us to take you to America—take good care of you.” He swallowed with some difficulty, his eyes imploring. “She asked us to raise you as our own, and that’s what we did. We promised we’d never tell a soul.”

  “But daddy…” she muttered, devastated. It was as if her whole life was suddenly crashing down around her. Had it all been a lie? “You—you should have told me.”

  “We couldn’t,” he said. “As long as Yuri was still running things it was too dangerous. And then when Yulian took over…we figured it was no use telling anyone.” He cleared his throat and gave her a fierce look. “You are our little girl, honey. We raised you from when you were barely a couple of days old. We never considered you anything other than our own flesh and blood.”

  She shook her head, trying to grasp the import of this revelation. Then she became aware of Yulian’s stare. Was he really her brother?

  “Yes, Yulian,” the terrorist interjected. “She’s your sister, all right.”

  Diana cast a desperate look at her mother. Anna had tears in her eyes, and Diana felt her heart break at the sight of her.

  But then the terrorist grabbed her hand and started leading her away. “You’re coming with me, honey,” he growled to Diana.

  “Wherever you’re taking her, I’m coming with,” a grating voice rang out.

  She looked back and her eyes locked on Jack’s, who’d jumped to his feet.

  The terrorist halted in his tracks. “Oh? And why is that, may I ask?”

  He stood glaring at the man. “Because I’m her fiancé, that’s why. Wherever she goes, I go.”

  Confused murmurs echoed through the room, all eyes now on the young prince.

  The terrorist laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “It’s true,” confirmed Diana, her eyes laughing at Jack. “We’re engaged to be married.”

  The horrible man eyed her curiously for a few beats, then finally inclined his head. “Very well. Two hostages are better than one, I suppose.” He gestured to one of his men, who took Jack’s arm. He instantly shook him off, then followed Diana and the terrorist leader out the door.

  “It’s so touching,” the man mocked, “to see two lovebirds so intimately united. Fast work, lover boy.”

  “If you harm one hair on her head…” Jack warned in a low growl.

  The man laughed. “I’m not stupid, Your Highness. Why would I want to destroy the goose with the golden eggs?”

  And that she was, Diana thought sadly. The events of the past minutes were still not fully processed, and she remembered the haunted look on her daddy’s face, the tears in her mother’s eyes. She wanted to tell them they would always be her parents, no matter what. She couldn’t stand to see them look so sad and devastated. Even if she was a Gornakov, she didn’t care. She would always be a Petrov first, no matter what some asshole terrorist said.

  She let her hand slip into Jack’s as they walked down the corridor. She was glad he was here, and when he gave her hand a squeeze, she knew that whatever happened next, he had her back.

  CHAPTER 14

  Jack kept his eyes peeled as the terrorist led them down the hall, then along the main marble staircase. He wondered where they were headed. He also wondered why they hadn’t brought Yulian Gornakov along. It was obvious this guy wanted money, so why not bring the golden calf?

  As his mind spun, he was starting to doubt whether the terrorist leader had any inkling what he was doing, because as far as he knew the guy didn’t even need Diana at all. He could simply have abducted Yulian and forced him to transfer part of his fortune into an offshore account.

  In short: none of this made sense. He felt Diana’s grip tighten and his gut clenched. With the thug’s shocking revelation her life had been thrown into a tailspin.

  He threw her a sideways glance. So she was a Gornakov, huh? Armand had briefed him on Yulian, the heir to notorious crime boss Yuri Gornakov.

  He didn’t fucking care who she was. She could be Lucretia Borgia’s favorite niece for all he cared. All he knew was that he’d never felt about any woman the way he felt about her. Whether she was Diana Petrov or Anastasiya Gornakov didn’t matter one bit. She was his now, and he’d make damn sure she stayed that way.

  It had surprised him she went along with this ruse about the engagement. He hadn’t thought it through—it had simply been a spur of the moment kind of thing, like most of his best ideas. Even in the battlefield he liked to follow his hunches. They’d saved his ass and that of his men more than once.

  If this terrorist thought he could manhandle her and make her do his bidding without him by her side he
had another thing coming.

  He assessed the situation. They were descending, the leader of the outfit in front of them, two of his flunkies at their heels. He could take them out now, but didn’t like the odds of Diana getting caught in the crossfire when he made his move. He could take the two assholes trailing them, but that left the one in front free to retaliate. He quickly dismissed the move. If it was only his own life on the line he wouldn’t hesitate a millisecond, but he had Diana to think of.

  Then again, if all they were after was money, perhaps they should simply let this thing play out. Let the bastards get their hands on the Gornakov millions. By the time they thought they were safe to enjoy their ill-gotten spoils, Interpol would be on them like white on rice and retrieve both them and the stolen funds.

  They’d arrived downstairs in the ornate hallway and were led to the left. Exactly what he’d figured. They were heading for the command center. He hoped Armand would be waiting. Three against three. Those were odds he could live with.

  They arrived at an inconspicuous looking wood-paneled elevator door. From the outside it looked like a service elevator. In reality it led straight down to the castle’s security nerve center. To his surprise, the terrorist produced a highly secure passkey and shoved it into the small security panel placed next to the door. The elevator doors immediately swung open.

  What the hell? He stared at the key in the man’s hand. How had he managed to get a duplicate? Those were impossible to manufacture.

  The terrorist held the door and all five of them crowded in.

  He found himself face to face with the terrorist leader and stared him down. The asshole’s icy blue gaze never wavered. The man had balls of brass to think he could pull a stunt like this and not get caught. This wasn’t some Podunk town in the middle of nowhere. This was the capital of Montinia, one of the most beloved and popular tourist destinations on the planet, the home of the rich and famous and secured by a highly trained police force.