Tease

by Sapphire Knight

  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 backdoor, 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.

  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 lovesick, 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, lovesick 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 towards 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.

  Shit. I’d finally made myself stop thinking about her so much, and now she’s here. What the hell am I supposed to do? Sit here and stare at her the entire night? Because that’s what will happen, I already know it. There’s no way I can watch the fight now and pay attention. Who cares who wins at this point; I just want to soak her all in, every ounce I can get away with looking at and tuck it all away to think about later.

  And who are all the men with her? There are six of those mobbish-looking goons surrounding her. Is she married? Could that old man next to her be her husband? Of course, she’d be wed by now; it’s been five long years. Hell, she could’ve been married when we were together, and I’d have never known it. Although I didn’t see a ring on her finger, but that means nothing nowadays.

  Viktor taps my shoulder, nodding straight ahead at the group I’ve already been staring at. “Mafiya.” His Russian comes out just a touch with his disgust.

  “Sicilian Mafioso?” I respond, and he grunts.

  “Luciano and Leopoldo Franchetti.”

  The names of the two famous Sicilian mobsters has my chest feeling like a ton of bricks is resting on top of it. “Old Sicily, they’re brothers also?”

  “Da.”

  Shit. Is Victoria in with the mob? And not even regular American mafia. This is old-school, the real deal, string-you-up-in-the-streets-to-die type of gangsters. This is even worse than her just being Italian. And the Sicilians have been working against Viktor every step of the way as he’s tried to shut down the sex trade outlets of the underground. This just became messy.

  “Watch them.”

  “Yes, sir.” I nod, keeping my eyes glued on the group. Well, to one person in particular. And to think I was excited when I saw her sitting over there;now it’s more like dread resting in the bottom of my gut. If she’s a part of their operation, I’m most likely going to be tasked with killing her. The woman I’ve searched so long for and there’s a chance I’ll be the one to send her to her deathbed. Not the kind of bed I was hoping to get her into.

  “Should be starting in ten minutes or less,” Nikoli announces to the group. Now I’m glad we got here early, gives me more of a chance to get familiar with our surroundings and everyone sitting in their designated seats. “Ripper is going to win the first round, and Lexei will owe me one stack.”

  My eyebrows shoot up, hearing his declaration. “Wait; you guys bet on the fight?” I ask him.

  “Yes, he bet me last night.”

  Grinning, I glance at Alexei, looking for confirmation. He shrugs in return, not looking the slightest bit bothered that I know he listened to me about placing bets with the guys. I’ll have to remember this for next time.

  Big, brown, doe-like -eyes meet mine, full of shock as Victoria notices me staring at her for the first time. After a few moments, she blinks a bunch of times, squinting, closing one eye and opening, then repeating the same with the other, until finally she must give in and realize it really is me that she sees. Her shoulders grow stiff, and by her reaction, she must remember me.

  At least I hope she does.

  No More Games

  Glancing over at the men with her, I make sure none of them are paying me any attention and then nod off to the side. Hopefully, she’ll understand that I need to speak with her. I have to know if she’s in with them or what’s the deal.

  Even if she’s just sleeping with one of them, my boss will never approve of her. Not now, after she’s been seen out in public with them. I know he’ll be too wary of letting her close to anyone we care about and who can blame him? I’d be the same way if I were in his position. You can’t trust anyone in this lifestyle when it comes down to it. Too many people will burn you in a heartbeat if they think they can get away with it and get ahead.

  It takes a few minutes of her looking around at everything but me until she stands. The older man to her left questions her and after a few words from her, he nods, slightly irritated, but resigned. You can tell he’s not happy about letting her out of his sight, but he does anyway. He doesn’t give in completely, though; once she’s a few rows away, he sends a goon to monitor her.

  Hopefully, his guy’s not very perceptive, or I may have to figure out a place to stuff a body.

  “I’ll be back,” I mutter to Alexei and stand up.

  I don’t know where she’s heading, but I figure I’ll try the bathrooms and concession near their seating area. Heading for the hallway, I quickly stride down the painted concrete walkway, scanning each person with dark hair as I go.

  Part of me wants to shake her, demanding she tells me why she’s with someone like them. The other piece of me has missed her and wants to hold he
r tightly, kissing her mouth until she can no longer breathe.

  I’m nearly to the hall leading to their seating section, when a metal door off to the side, opens swiftly. She peeps her head out a little, grasping my suit jacket with her petite hand and tugs until I follow her into the small janitorial closet.

  The musty smell of dust and bleach hit my senses as Victoria quickly closes the door behind us.

  “Is it…is it really you? Spartak?” she whispers in awe.

  Her hopeful eyes swallow me up; I could drown in their sweet depths. She looks…so happy and surprised to see me.

  “Who are those men?” I should say something else, but I can’t help myself. I need to know. I need to hear it come from her mouth so I can either strangle her or kiss her.

  “Men?”

  “Yes. The men you were sitting with. Is the old one your husband?”

  “Gross; no, that’s my father. None of them is my husband.”

  “So you have one then?”

  “What? No! I’ve never been married. This wasn’t what I was imagining we’d talk about when we finally saw each other again.”

  “You thought we’d see each other again?”

  “Well, I had hoped we would. I really liked you, Spartak. Our time was short, but I had fun with you. I’ve thought about it many times over the years, and there have been places where I’ve sworn to have caught a glimpse of you. But then I’d try to find you and it would be someone else, or the person would disappear before I could catch them.”

  “I searched for you for years. It was hard; I didn’t have much information on you. It would’ve helped if you hadn’t used a fake last name. Is your first name even Victoria?”

  “Yes, I didn’t lie to you about that.” Glancing at her feet, she looks ashamed that I have to question her. She shouldn’t have lied; I would’ve found her sooner.

  “Your father’s Sicilian?”

  “Yes.” Her chin rises, proudly.

  “This could be a problem. Do you realize who I am, who I’m affiliated with?”