Joshua shrugged. "I didn't buy the painting from the artist." He was careful to keep his statement strictly the truth. Sonia had refused to take money. He was arranging to send a truckload of building supplies to her home in exchange, although she wasn't aware of his intention. He deliberately hadn't told her, because she'd argued the first time he'd tried, right after she'd delivered the painting.
Nikita frowned, but he dropped the subject. Throughout the next two hours while they brokered a deal for their pipeline, Nikita's gaze continually strayed toward Sonia's artwork. It made sense to Joshua now. Sonia had somehow gotten involved with the Russian mob. The fact that her father had been murdered made him believe it was him who had first gotten mixed up with them. He'd pulled his family in, perhaps through a gambling debt.
If the Bogomolov family was anything like the Amurov leopards, they wanted sons, not wives. Their lairs didn't tolerate loyalty to anyone but the bratya. The women providing children, more often than not, ended up dead. Sonia had probably been scheduled for termination because she hadn't gotten pregnant. Alonzo had explained how the males in his family murdered the women to prove their loyalty. That meant the Bogomolov family might somehow be connected to Alonzo's family.
He understood why Sonia didn't want to involve him. The Russians were ruthless, very, very dangerous. He'd known, sooner or later, they'd be dealing with them because of Alonzo and the others, but he hadn't expected it would become personal.
They talked, Nikita trying to get every advantage, but Joshua held firm. In the end, they shook hands and the Russians stood to go. Nikita wandered over to the painting, looked at it closely until he stiffened, lifting one finger to trace the S and L woven into the foliage. "You are certain you cannot tell me who the artist is?"
"I can't," Joshua said with the utmost sincerity.
Nikita took out his cell and snapped a few pictures of the painting. "I may be able to find the artist by asking around the art world."
Joshua walked the Russian toward the door. "Thanks for coming all this way. I hope you take the time to enjoy yourself. New Orleans is a beautiful city. There's so much to see and do."
"I must get back immediately," Nikita said.
"Oh? I'm sorry. I thought you were staying a few days. I must have misunderstood."
Nikita flashed a fake smile. "Something of great importance has come up," he explained.
"Anything I can help with?"
Nikita turned back as if just remembering something. "There is one small thing."
"Yes, of course," Joshua said swiftly.
"We are hunting a very dangerous man. His name is Fyodor Amurov. Along with his brother, Timur, and his cousins Gorya and Mitya, he murdered a dozen or more people. We are looking for this man and his brother and cousins."
"Of course we'll help. I'll put out the word to our friends and see if we can locate them for you."
"We would be very appreciative." Nikita's gaze once more strayed over Joshua's shoulder to the painting. He quickly looked away and headed down the stairs to his vehicle, the others falling into step around him.
Joshua stood in the doorway, cursing as the car pulled back down the drive toward the road. Sonia hadn't been marked. There were no bite marks on her shoulders, no rake marks. Nothing indicated Sasha's leopard had known about her leopard. Gatita hadn't risen because of her first heat--she'd risen to save Sonia's life. Sasha's leopard didn't know about her. He never would have allowed her to go, not without giving him a child. Then he would have killed her.
Alonzo had explained that the males in the lair purposely mated with a woman not their own mate so there was no chance of falling in love. They wanted males to make the lair stronger, but to prove loyalty, they murdered their wives after sons were provided.
Joshua ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. He couldn't bring up the Russians to Sonia and confirm everything. She'd ask questions he couldn't answer, and she was already skittish. If she thought he had any connection to the mob, she'd leave everything behind and run from him just as she'd run from Sasha Bogomolov.
Evan stood in front of the painting. "He recognized this work as being hers. Sonia's. Didn't he?"
Joshua nodded. "No question about it. He was more interested in the painting than he was the pipeline, so much so that he didn't force me to make more concessions for him. He knows Sonia. They had to be the ones who tried to kill her. If I confront her about it, she'll want to know how I know Nikita."
"She's hiding a pretty big secret. You think she was married to Sasha Bogomolov?"
"That's the only answer, as much as I'd like another one. All the pieces fit." Joshua pressed his fingers to his throbbing temple. He was getting a massive headache. "I'll call Drake and update him. Do we have eyes on them?"
Evan nodded.
"Warn Kai the Russians are on the move. They may stop in town. I don't want them to run into Sonia accidentally. Have Kai get her out of there if possible. Tell him he needs to drop it that he was at the lumberyard, and he overheard me giving a huge order of roofing material to Jerry over the phone. Tell him to say he hadn't thought we needed a new roof. Sonia will go ballistic and head straight to Jerry to tell him to cancel the order."
Evan nodded and took out his cell, texting with one hand. Joshua paced across the floor like a caged leopard. If Sonia were with him, she'd be safe. She'd just refused. She hadn't once spent the night at his house, preferring her own. She wouldn't go out in public with him. Essentially, she called all the shots in their relationship. He might be the dominant in bed, but that seemed the only place. Because he had been giving her space, she was in danger.
He cursed himself again, nails digging into his palms. Flecks of blood proved the leopard's claws were very much in evidence. The pain helped clear his mind. He had to trust Kai into maneuvering Sonia out of harm's way. Tonight, he'd have to talk to her, even if it meant she would have to be told the truth about who and what he was--what he'd become.
If she'd been involved with the Russian mob--and they'd tried to kill her--he couldn't imagine her reaction when she learned he'd taken over Rafe Cordeau's territory. Joshua Tregre was the new crime lord. He looked like the friendly neighbor. He acted the friendly neighbor. He ruled his territory with an iron fist and made deals with murderous Russians.
He'd managed to fool everyone. The rumors of his taking over for Cordeau had mostly died down. He'd worked hard to gain the trust of the locals. His men had been given strict instructions never to push anyone around. Most of his crew were men he'd worked with in Borneo, but a few were leftovers from Rafe's crew. Those were the ones he watched the most. He wanted his reputation around his town spotless. He wanted his reputation with others in his world ruthless. It was the only way to keep everyone safe.
"Is Bastien Foret going to be a problem, Evan?" he asked.
"It's a possibility. Good men can be a pain in the ass. Smart men even more so. Foret is both." Evan tapped his fingers on his phone. "Let's see what these bastards do. You got the best of him in the deal. He didn't expect that and he didn't like it, but he wanted an 'in' with us bad enough to take what he could get. I liked that you pointed out he wasn't the only game in town, but you'd come to him out of respect. I wanted to laugh at his expression."
"He knew it was bullshit but he couldn't call me on it, not without losing the deal. Mostly he was upset over the painting and what it meant."
"He lost that deal," Evan said. "You look like a kid. You came out of nowhere and took hold of Rafe's territory and made everyone aware right out of the gate that you weren't playing games. Even with that, there wasn't a trail of dead bodies. He has to respect that. Few could have pulled that off."
"I had a little help from my friends." Joshua couldn't stop the restless pacing. His phone sounded off, letting him know he had a text. Glancing down, he grinned. "Kai must have made his move." He held up the phone for Evan to see. You didn't. Two words. "Man, I love that woman." The grin faded when he realized what he'd said. He c
ouldn't afford to love her. Not yet. Not when he hadn't told her the truth.
"Gray just reported in. The Russians are headed out of town. They didn't stop; in fact, they're going to get a speeding ticket if they don't slow down. Nikita's been on the phone the entire time and he doesn't look happy."
"He just found out his daughter-in-law is still alive." Joshua wanted to punch the wall. "I have to tell her. She has to know."
His phone pinged again and he glanced down. Thanks, man. Sonia's in here ripping me a new one. She wants me to cancel the order.
He texted back. He was fast and he sent the order immediately. Do not cancel the order. Tell her you need the money. Give her a sob story and she'll relent. He knew his woman. The sadder the story, the more likely she would back down. I have faith in you. She needs those materials. He knew how Jerry felt about Sonia. The man would do anything for her.
"She's going to give you trouble," Evan prophesied.
"Don't sound so fuckin' happy about it," Joshua said. He walked across the room to stand in front of the painting. "Why would he want to buy this? Why make a big deal out of it and just go home without tipping us off that something isn't right?"
"Good question."
"He wanted proof, Evan. He wanted the painting and when he couldn't get it, he took photographs to give someone the evidence. He wanted his son to know--and believe him--that Sonia was alive. The painting depicts the swamp here in New Orleans. He had to know that. I couldn't very well lie and say I bought it in a city. His leopard would have heard that immediately."
"You were careful. It was a good thing that we sprayed the house with the scent-canceling formula we got from Remy. It worked when Sonia first came to the house. If we hadn't, Bogomolov's leopard would have scented her. She's been all over the house. I think he bought it that you didn't know the artist."
"He bought it for the moment. He'll have time to think about it and convince himself that I know more than I was telling him, and they'll come back."
"You have to talk to her. Get Drake down here. Bring Eli Perez, someone she might trust."
"As opposed to me." Joshua wanted to pound the wall. It was a very unusual reaction for him. He was always the calm one. His woman could make him crazy.
"Come on, Joshua. She's scared with good reason. How can she trust her own judgment? The Russian told her he loved her, married her, promised to take care of her and instead, tried to kill her. Along comes you. You're all over her. Your leopard is all over her. She really doesn't have much choice because you didn't let up for a moment and give her breathing room."
"She would have run from me."
"She lives next door," Evan pointed out.
"Fuck you, Evan," he snapped, but was ashamed the moment the words came out of his mouth. Evan was right and he knew it. He hadn't been able to be away from her. Not for five minutes. The more Sonia ran, the more he chased. He shook his head. "Sorry, man. You're right. I know you are." He ran both hands through his hair. "How did they do this? Tell their women? Alonzo? Evangeline is my cousin. She's about as sweet and as innocent as one can get. I think she knew from the beginning what Alonzo was. Sonia is running from the mob. The last thing she's going to want to do is even discuss this with me."
"You have to tell her, Joshua."
He nodded. "She's safe right now. I'm going to go over everything we have on the Bogomolov family. Drake gathered a lot of information on them."
He climbed the stairs slowly, his chest hurting. His head was throbbing. Sonia was the most important person in his world and he was going to have to ask her to stay with him knowing what he was, what he'd gotten himself into. Once in, there was no getting out, not without a hefty price on the head and running for the rest of one's life.
Damn it, Shadow. I got us into a mess.
The big cat yawned. You'll work it out. You always do.
The confidence the leopard had in him settled him. He was always the one to figure out how to keep the peace. How to get things done. He was given the job of forming a new pipeline through several territories in order to have access to each of those territories. The goal was to find the worst of the mobsters and take over their territories. It would have to be done slowly and systematically, hitting shipments and their books, siphoning money from them, shutting down the businesses that laundered their money and making them weak before the big strike. Once the boss was killed, it left the territory wide open, so they could place one of their allies in the position. It was his job and he excelled at planning it.
Sitting in front of his computer, he opened the file on the Bogomolov family. They were known for being ruthless. They killed entire families in retaliation for the slightest misdeed. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he went back, trying to find a reference to Sonia's father. It took him a while to find it.
They'd had the information on Sonia all along. It was in the enormous file the investigators had collected on the family. If he'd thought to do a name search for Sonia Lopez in that file, he would have found it. It had been impossible to read the entire thing before his meeting, so he and Drake had chosen to concentrate on Nikita Bogomolov as head of the family and the crimes they'd committed in Miami.
Roberto Lopez, originally from Cuba, had been a low-level runner for the Bogomolov family. His wife, Valeria, had had one child, Sonia. Roberto had been found dead when Sonia was twelve, obviously tortured and partially burned. He'd died hard and he'd been put on display for all to see, a common practice to show others what happened if they were disloyal or stole from the Bogomolov family. Strangely, his wife and child had been spared.
Valeria had worked in the Bogomolov home as a housekeeper. She'd worked for them for five years before being diagnosed with cancer. She'd lived in the guesthouse on the Bogomolov property with her daughter, and once she was ill, it had been the Russian family who took care of all her bills and brought in nurses to attend her around the clock until she died.
Little was known about the daughter, Sonia. His Sonia. There were pictures of her at her mother's funeral, with Sasha Bogomolov, his arm around her. He studied every picture carefully. The man's body language screamed protective. Two photographs caught him looking down at her. Both showed what appeared to be genuine emotion. If Joshua had seen them together, he would have sworn he was looking at a man in love.
Still, there was no marriage certificate to be found. He sent out a quick message to the investigative team to search every public record for that certificate. There was little on Sonia after that. Sasha Bogomolov had been seen at nightclubs, but without Sonia. Sonia had been home, thinking she was married to the man while he was out wining and dining with his friends and business acquaintances.
Joshua sank back in his chair and stared at the evidence. Sonia had never gone out with him because she hadn't known about going out. She didn't dress up and go to dinner. She didn't go dancing out in public. She danced on her verandah. She'd been in the Bogomolov home from the time she was twelve. She'd grown up there. She'd trusted them. They'd been family to her. She'd eaten at their table, swam in their pool, laughed and cried with them--but she hadn't gone out in public with them. Why?
She'd been barely eighteen when her mother died. Sasha had been thirty-three. He'd supposedly married her. She'd lived with him in the home after that. She'd been a prisoner in a gilded cage, she just hadn't realized it. He couldn't imagine the betrayal, overhearing the man she believed in telling his father she wasn't married to him, it had all been a sham. The man who was supposed to love her agreeing to murder her. The pain of that. How had she survived?
She had to have figured out from the conversation that Nikita had ordered her father's murder. He'd slept with her mother and then dismissed both women as trash one got rid of. Sasha had agreed. Joshua groaned, thinking how that had to have made Sonia feel. She'd been so young and had already suffered too many losses.
Joshua went back to studying the photographs of Sonia's supposed husband. What if he had loved her? What if h
e'd tried to keep her safe, even from his father? There was a reason Valeria and Sonia hadn't been killed when Roberto had died. There was a reason Sonia had been kept out of the public eye. Even the lack of a marriage certificate might have been a protection. Had Sasha known his father wanted to kill the women and he'd found a way to save them?
Joshua rubbed his eyes. He sometimes got headaches. Migraines. He detested them and tried never to give in to them. He believed a man should be able to overcome all physical ailments and get the job done no matter what. He hated that sometimes it was impossible. He could take a bullet--and he'd taken more than one--but a headache? No, that got to him.
He had blocked out most of the early years of his life deliberately. He hadn't wanted to remember his grandfather, but he could hear his voice calling his father a sniveling baby for lying in bed in the dark because of a headache. Real men didn't acknowledge headaches.
He forced his eyes to focus on the screen. Sonia looked so young and grief-stricken in the photographs taken at her mother's service. She had been young. She still was. She'd never had the chance for a real courtship. She'd never had a chance at all. He understood better why she didn't trust him with her story.
"You loved her, didn't you?" he murmured aloud. "You bastard. You loved her, and you didn't have the balls to kill the son of a bitch who wanted her dead." Nikita Bogomolov had known his son loved Sonia and hadn't wanted his son's loyalty divided. One didn't fall in love with their woman. They got a son, or sons, and then they murdered her, preferably in a gruesome way to show their boys the bratya was their first loyalty.
The Bogomolovs were leopards, and they were every bit as cruel and ruthless as the lair Alonzo had come from. He had to find the connection between the two families. If this was a lair out of Russia, chances were, they were in some way related to Alonzo. He texted Alonzo, rubbing at his temples. His stomach was beginning to react to the pain. He was seeing spots. He'd have to darken the room and lie down for a few minutes.
Cursing, he waited for Alonzo's answer. It came a few minutes later. Maira Amurov had been given to Nikita Bogomolov. Maira had one son, Sasha, and then she'd been killed when she gave birth to a second child. Murdered by her own husband. That wasn't known, of course. To the outside world, she'd died in childbirth. The little girl hadn't survived either. Alonzo said Nikita had beaten Maira to death when the child wasn't another boy.
Leopard's Blood Page 15
