by Bella Rose
“Paranoid probably didn’t even scratch the surface,” she reminded the men. “My stepfather wanted to execute any person who might have any real or perceived reason to be angry at him someday. Toward the end, he was actually putting out contracts on his family members, and even on Mikhail Ivanov, who was his chosen successor.”
Olaf’s slack lips curved into a sloppy smile that showed off a mouth full of stubby teeth. “Apparently old Stanislas was right to be paranoid. Here you are, and yet he is dead.”
“Murdered by his own son,” Tori shot back. “Whom Stanislas issued a contract on even though Alexei had left the house years ago and never returned. There was no threat from Alexei until Stanislas’s paranoia created one. And now my stepbrother and my stepfather are dead.”
“And your husband inherits all,” Olaf said, his words dripping sarcasm. “How very convenient for you.”
“Yes, completely,” she agreed with caustic sweetness. “Because every pregnant woman enjoys being kidnapped from her own home by her cousin, strung up in a warehouse, hung by her hands, and then threatened with death by her own stepfather.”
Now the council looked interested. All of them. Good. Tori wasn’t done. Not in the least. She pulled out her mother’s journals. She could see the curiosity on each council member’s face. She knew there was a lot of speculation around the mafiya community about her mother, and especially her mother’s death.
“My mother was murdered by Stanislas Vasiliev,” Tori said in a high clear voice. “He confessed this to me before he was killed.”
“Of course he did,” someone else blustered. “Amazing how these confessions never stand up to a little bit of probing.”
“Well, what I have here is the probe.” Tori held up the journal. “My mother was keeping a diary of all of Stanislas’s movements. She also had a list of names. They were people who were murdered. These are families that my stepfather had killed in order to send a message to men who were either allies or enemies. It didn’t matter. My stepfather didn’t distinguish between the two. Everyone was an enemy.”
“What names?” Olaf called out.
Yuri had been very quiet all of a sudden. It was as though he knew Tori was about to point at him. “Yuri Michaelevich. Your young sons were murdered in a public park fifteen years ago.”
“Yes.”
Tori pointed to the book. “Stanislas was responsible for giving that order. My mother speculated in here that he thought you had an eye on one of his businesses. Instead of taking the chance that you might muscle him out, he decided to murder your children as a warning.”
“You lie!” Olaf shouted.
Yuri swallowed. Tori could see the thin column of his throat moving, but there were no words. Tori gazed at him in pity. She ignored Olaf for the moment. “You weren’t the only one, Yuri. Stanislas ordered the murder of Mikhail’s family too.
“Why do all of you think the men who worked for my stepfather were never interested in gaining more position or power? Why do you think they were all happy to stay exactly where they were and never advance?” Tori asked loudly. “Because he threatened them! Because if they had set their sights on leadership positions, he would have considered them a threat and had them or their family members eliminated!”
“It’s true!” a man named Pyotr called out. “My mother was murdered by Stanislas himself as a warning to my father.”
Olaf took a breath to belt out another protest. Tori stopped him cold. “Your daughter was killed, Olaf. A car wreck when she was sixteen, correct?”
“Yes.”
“No.” Tori shook her head. “It says in my mother’s journal that it was Stanislas who made that wreck happen. You had just made him angry in a council meeting. He wanted revenge for the disrespect you showed him when you didn’t agree with him.”
“My daughter?” Olaf whispered. “That bastard had my child murdered because of a problem he had with me?”
“Yes.” Tori pursed her lips. “Which is why the six of you are going to sanction Mikhail’s bid for leadership of the Vasiliev syndicate. He is the rightful leader of those men and the rightful owner of those properties and businesses. He is my husband. He is the legal heir because my stepfather never believed in a legal will, so everything goes to me, and through me to Mikhail. And he is also the heir chosen by my stepfather before he died.”
“We support you.” It was Olaf who spoke. His grim voice suggested that he was still having a very difficult time with the truth she had just revealed to him. “But you must give up your mother’s journals.”
“No.” Tori shook her head. “There is no good to be done by dragging up all those old wounds. I told you what you needed to know, because you needed to understand how serious this was. Now it’s time for all of us to move on.” She looked at each council member. “Every. Last. One.”
Without another word, Tori grabbed Mikhail’s hand, and the two of them left the private dining room where the council held their meetings. All in all, it had been a pretty productive evening.
***
“I DON’T KNOW, Mikhail,” Tori whined. “I’m really not in a party mood. I’m so tired most of the time that I feel like I’m going to pass out and take a nap every time I sit down.”
“It’s been two months since your father and Alexei passed away. You need to get out. It’s not like you to stay sequestered at home, and it isn’t healthy.” Mikhail got out of the SUV and ran around to her door. He flung it open and held out his hand. “Either you step out on your own, or I will pick you up, sling you over my shoulder, and carry you in like a sack of rotten fruit.”
“That was rude,” Tori groused. “But whatever. If I embarrass you by snoring in the middle of a card game, that’s your problem.”
The front doors of the casino opened as Mikhail’s men bowed their heads respectfully to their Boss and his wife. Tori and Mikhail strode inside, and seconds later she was shocked to see both Jamie and Mara running at her full speed.
There was a lot of squealing, giggling, howling, and girlie ridiculousness as Tori hugged her two best friends. She hadn’t seen them in weeks. It had been mostly by choice, but now she knew that it had been a bad idea. Tori needed her girlfriends. They kept her grounded when everything else was a mess.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” Tori gushed, grabbing them both again for a big group hug.
“Well, I’m still with Dimitri,” Mara explained. “In fact, he was the one who mentioned that it might be time for a girls night out.”
“And I’m single,” Jamie assured them. “So if you see any hotties, send them my way since the two of you are leg shackled for life.”
“For life?” Tori raised an eyebrow at Mara. “Is there something I should know?”
Mara actually blushed. “Well, since Stanislas passed away—” Tori did not remark that the man had been murdered and wasn’t dead of natural causes. “—Dimitri told me that Mikhail has a much different outlook on his enforcers marrying. So…” Mara held out her finger. “We got engaged!”
“Oh. My. God!” Tori shrieked in excitement. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”
Jamie snorted. “Another one bites the dust.”
“We’re going to have to find you a hottie you won’t want to leave behind,” Tori told her friend. “How about we go start looking at that roulette table?”
“Perfect!”
As the girls settled around the table and got ready to play, Tori realized there was no smoking going on in the place tonight. Stranger still, the waiter kept automatically bringing Tori nonalcoholic drinks.
“I think your husband is looking out for you,” Mara said warmly, nudging Tori with her hip. “Dimitri said there’s a moratorium on smoking in here tonight, and the only alcohol sold will be up at the bar itself.”
“Even I have to admit that’s sweet,” Jamie mused. “He really does love you.”
“He cares so much he drives me to distraction,” Tori agreed. “But I would never want it
any other way.”
“It’s so weird to think that the three of us have been hanging out for years now as single gals with nothing to tie us down.” Jamie looked thoughtful. “Now we’re growing and changing.”
“But we’re still best friends,” Tori exclaimed. “And that’s the most important part.”
“Just promise me it will never change,” Mara pleaded. “I mean, I know some things will. But not us. Okay?”
“Deal.” Tori held out her hand, and the other two put theirs on top of hers. “We’re like some idiotic girlie drill team.”
“We could call ourselves the Party Crashers,” Jamie cackled. “That would be perfect! We’ll get shirts and everything.”
Tori caught Mikhail’s eye then. She quickly excused herself from her friends and went to join her husband. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheeks one at a time.
He put his lips beside her ear. “What’s that for?”
“For realizing that I needed this.”
“Your happiness is something I take very seriously,” Mikhail told her softly. “Even if it means that I’ll eventually have to go back to that nasty nightclub.”
“Now that is true love,” Tori quipped. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. They might not have been meant to be together, but they just clicked. And that was more than most people would ever be able to say.
The End!
BONUS STORY!
Russian Mobster’s Claimed Mistress
Russian Mobster’s Claimed Mistress
By: Bella Rose
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright 2016 Bella Rose
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Chapter One
Strobe lights swung from side to side with practiced precision, bathing the walls of Club 360 in garish red-and-yellow light. The air was thick with heat from the lights above and the bodies below. Dancers filled every inch of space on the floor. The intense light outlined their writhing bodies as they moved to the beat of the music.
Alexandra watched with fascination as a man stepped in the middle of it all. The crowd parted like a sea of humanity as he approached. He raised his hands, starting to dance. He spun round and the people in his sphere moved with him. Everyone wanted to be beside him.
Wrapping her hands around the railing, Alexandra felt the harsh metal cut into her palms. The pain seemed to center her and force her to focus. This was no god. It was Vitaly Volkov. He was only a man, and the FBI wanted him for a laundry list of organized crimes.
“Hey, baby, you want to dance?”
Alexandra whipped around, facing a stranger. “No,” she said before turning away.
“Why not?” he pressed. “Why would you come here if not to dance?”
She snorted, glancing down at her simple black dress. It had been the only concession she’d made to this undercover assignment. “Do I look like I’m in need of a good time?” she asked sarcastically.
The man’s expression shifted. “Actually, you look like you need a good lay, but you don’t look like you’d be one.”
The comment stung, but she turned away. The alcove where she’d chosen to hide was on the first-tier balcony where tables had been placed for those who wanted to sit and have a drink with friends. Now she gazed out over the floor spread out below and searched once again for Vitaly.
She didn’t have to look very hard to find him. A sultry woman with dark hair was rubbing her body sinuously against his. His hands were splayed over her hips as he controlled their every move. The sheer presence of him affected Alexandra strangely. She felt her heart begin to speed up. Her skin heated as though a tiny wave of electricity was dancing along every nerve ending in her body. She squirmed, her core growing damp and hot.
She was here to find dirt on the guy. She needed to eavesdrop on his conversations, something. Anything that would give her a lead in finding a way to take him down was critical to her investigation.
She was still staring, watching the way his powerful body moved beneath the black slacks and loose dress shirt. Sweat made the fabric cling to his shoulders and the muscles on his back. Each time he moved she could see the play of the hard planes of his abdomen flex beneath his clothes. Her mouth went dry. Then he raised his hands and pushed his shoulder-length black hair away from the chiseled features of his face. He was just so damn sexy.
Then he lifted his gaze. It happened abruptly, almost as if he’d become aware that he was being watched. Alexandra froze. He was staring right at her. His eyes were the most incredible shade of blue. She was trapped and yet she felt an intoxicating sense of physical awareness.
Vitaly pointed. It took Alexandra a moment to realize that he was pointing at her. Her heartbeat went from merely fast to hammering against her ribs. She stumbled away from the railing, trying to slip back into the shadows and realizing that she had nowhere to hide. Turning away, she fled.
She retraced her steps, heading down the back stairs and through a warren of corridors that housed a few private party rooms and the standard bathrooms. The hallway was crowded. She stood on tiptoe for a moment, trying to see behind her.
Spotting Vitaly, she immediately ducked back into the crowd. She hardly dared to breathe. He was searching for her. She knew it. Someone stepped on her. Backing up, she bumped into another set of legs and earned a curse. Dodging the opposite direction, Alexandra found herself up against the wall.
“What are you doing?”
Glancing up, Alexandra realized she had caught the attention of a clubber. The girl with the blue hair, nose piercing, and short red minidress was staring at Alexandra as though she was just another oddity at the club.
“I’m avoiding him.” Alexandra pointed to Vitaly.
“Oh.” The girl nodded sympathetically. “Boyfriend issues. I totally get it.” Then to Alexandra’s horror, the twit started jumping up and down. “Hey! Hey you!”
Vitaly started plowing toward them, the crowd parting to let him pass.
“That’s right, she’s over here!” The girl waved again.
Alexandra squeezed one fishnet-covered leg. “What are you doing?” she demanded.
“He’s busy staring at me. Now go!” The girl gave Alexandra a kick with her combat boot.
Alexandra didn’t need more prompting. She bolted toward the main dance floor. Weaving her way through the masses, she earned more than a few curses. She craned her neck around to see if Vitaly was following. He wasn’t. Relief made her weak in the knees.
The word EXIT was emblazoned over the door just a few feet away. Feeling almost desperate, Alexandra sprinted the last ten yards. With a few well-placed elbows to the remaining human barriers, she finally made it outside.
The alley was dark. It stank of oil and refuse. She breathed deeply and tried to regain her composure. What had happened in there? It was like she had been possessed or something. This wasn’t her first attempt at surveillance. She was an FBI agent with years of field experience, yet she’d acted like a lovestruck teenager.
“Fool,” she whispered, pressing her back to the brick wall of the club’s exterior. “I’m such a fool. A whole night wasted. No intel, no dirt, no leads, and nothing to show for this pathetic operation.”
She turned, pushing her arms into the brick and feeling the little pricks of pain as the sharp edges cut into her skin. What was wrong with her? She had to take Vitaly down. It didn’t matter how attractive she found him.
***
Vitaly Volkov looked down his nose at the girl with the blue hair, piercings, and the cheap red minidress. “You said you saw her. The woman in the black dress?” Vitaly prompted. “Which way did she go?”
“She slipped into the bathroom.” Blue Hair pointed to the ladies’ room.
Vitaly grunted. Even when one owned the club, it was not wise to stick one’s head into the ladies’ restroom. Still, he wanted another chance to speak to the woman in black. If she was tru
ly hiding out in the bathroom, he wanted to know. And why was she running from him anyway? What did she have to hide?
His cock began to harden as he recalled the look of sheer sensual hunger in the woman’s eyes. He couldn’t catch their color, but he had easily been able to tell the need that stalked her soul. It had stirred something inside of him. As if two wild beasts had discovered their match.
“Mister?” Blue Hair was looking up at him as if she really wanted him to go away. “I don’t know what your problem is, but if the lady doesn’t want to talk to you, maybe you should just go away. All right?”
Vitaly threw his head back and laughed. “You think I’m pursuing her because I know her?”
“She said you were her abusive boyfriend and she needed to get away.” Blue Hair paused. “Well I think that’s pretty much what she said.”
Interesting. So the woman in black had managed to manipulate this Good Samaritan into helping her escape him. “So she’s not in the bathroom,” he guessed.
“No. She’s good and gone now.” Blue Hair shrugged. “So either way, mister. She didn’t want anything to do with you.”
“Thanks for the tip.” He turned and stalked off through his club.
The night had turned sour. He had come to blow off some steam—a lot of steam, actually. Things with his business were a mess. The feds were sniffing around places they shouldn’t be. He was starting to become mildly paranoid that he couldn’t trust anyone in the organization. And sometimes he just wanted a chance to forget for a moment.
Movement across the dance floor caught his eye. Standing at least a head taller than most of the other people between him and his goal, he could see that the door marked EXIT had just opened and closed. He could think of no reason why someone would be utilizing an emergency exit when there was no emergency and most people were waiting in a mile-long line to get inside.
Striding quickly in that direction, he shoved his way through the throng of people on the floor. He wore his arrogance and position like armor. When someone had the audacity to complain about his passing, he simply stared them into submission. That was how he functioned. That was what it meant to be Vitaly Volkov. Yet he could not manage to catch hold of one scrap of femininity in a black dress!
