I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Claire. All of this happened so quickly that I went into battle-mode without ever calling her. We had made plans to have our talk tonight. I was ready to share everything with her and hear whatever it was she wanted to confide in me. This must have been what a real relationship was like—the need to share everything with the person you loved. And God, did I love her.
She had spent the night catching up with her best friend, Lana. I received her text after she returned home last night, even though it was late. She knew I wouldn’t sleep until she checked in with me so I would know she was safe. It was Saturday, so she was free from teaching today and would be able to stay at my place tonight. Meena was still taking private lessons from her, so we could go over to Shyam’s together tomorrow and maybe have a family dinner, too.
The way she blended in with my family seemed so easy and right, like she had been a part of the family for years. Amelia seemed like she loved Claire more than she loved me. The kids couldn’t get enough of her. And Shyam still thought she looked “agreeable,” which was as good as him saying, “I don’t hate her.” It was the best I could expect out of someone as stand-offish as him.
Hopefully, after our talk later, she wouldn’t be too scared to stick around, because she belonged with us. I was confident that she could handle everything I had to tell her about my line of work, since she was the toughest woman I knew.
“Take the next left,” Zayn called out to the driver. He had the location pulled up on his phone using special global satellite software. We used it because it was far more advanced than what Google could offer us. The specialized software provided us with real-time images of most locations. It was perfect for scoping out locations in New York City, but not so great for investigating locations in other countries with spotty satellite coverage—namely, Russia.
“They are already there,” he said to notify me as he examined the GSS images.
“How many cars?” I asked, clenching and releasing my hand repeatedly to reign in my adrenaline; I was nearly ready to bolt out of the car and crash into the establishment with my guns in the air, but now was the time to exercise control. Impulsiveness would get us killed. Impulsiveness would help Leonid get away, again.
“Three.”
That was a sizeable amount. He must have brought at least fifteen men with him. Even with a number so large, he would still be outnumbered by our men.
“Is the scene clear?” I asked as we turned left, making our way down the street of our destination. I wanted to be sure that the location was free of any innocent patrons.
Zayn moved his phone closer to his eyes to check. “All clear. It seems they shut the place down.”
Good. The last thing we needed was innocent bystanders getting in the way or calling the police.
I spotted the location out of my window. A restaurant called Semya, which meant “family” in Russian. It was ironic that he was meeting here when he was the same dick who had killed his own father.
No, I hadn’t forgotten that tidbit of information I had over him. Once I killed him and his bastard cousin Igor, I’d make sure to let his Brothers know just how family-oriented their Pakhan had been. That would surely get them off my back and prevent any of them from seeking revenge for Leonid’s death. He would die in dishonor.
The SUV circled around the main entrance and entered the side alley, away from public view. My men were to enter from the back of the restaurant, since I expected Leonid would have heaviest reinforcements there; it was the ideal path for a getaway. I would enter from the front of the restaurant. It wasn’t my style to sneak up on him from behind. I wanted him to see me coming. That was probably where I had gone wrong with the assassination attempt. Hiding and shooting from afar wasn’t true to my methods. I was a “face them head on” kind of a leader.
I opened the car door and looked up and down the alley before getting out. No one was in sight. Leonid’s cars must have been parked further down to avoid detection. No doubt, his drivers were ready and waiting for the signal to drive by for a pick-up.
Zayn walked around to join my side, dressed up more than he was used to, in a suit. “Ready, brother?”
I nodded, straightening the sleeve of my suit jacket. Today, I had opted for something a little dressier too. The added layers allowed me to hide weapons easier than a pair of jeans and a t-shirt would have. I hated ties, so I’d left that bit out.
The two of us walked silently to the street entrance of the restaurant. The exterior looked very old-world Russian. Dark cherry-wood slats framed the windows. The red curtains inside were drawn so I couldn’t catch a glimpse of the interior. A black-and-white striped awning extended over the large wood front doors.
I paused in front of the entrance, gathering my thoughts. Zayn looked at me, not uttering a word, but his eyes said, “I’m with you, brother.”
I pulled off my shades and tucked them away into my pocket. I wanted the motherfucker to see my eyes when I pulled the trigger.
My hand rested on the handle of the door for a moment. Pulling the weight of the wood toward me, I entered the restaurant first, with Zayn right behind me.
The vestibule was dark and swathed in dark-red and gold wallpaper. A velvet curtain separated the hostess’s table from the main area. Today must have been a special event because there was no hostess in sight. No problem. I can seat myself.
Pulling back the curtain slightly, I saw him sitting at a table in the back of the room. His dirty-colored hair and disheveled facial hair stood out. He was stuffing his mouth with food while two of his men flanked him from behind his chair, machine guns in hand, resting across their chests.
His loud cackle brought my focus back to him. Igor sat next to him, messily gulping down liquor from his glass. His vile cousin couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off something in front of him. I moved in closer to get a better look.
Leonid was holding a meeting and chattering loudly in Russian.
I glanced at Zayn, nervous that we had gotten ourselves into something that would turn out messier than we had hoped. My brother shrugged his shoulders, as if he too were clueless about the meeting taking place in front of us.
I wondered if I should hang back here to eavesdrop instead of ambushing him like I had. If he were meeting with allies, I should know what sort of shady dealings he was up to and who else was involved.
The person across from him never spoke, so there wasn’t much to listen in on. My Russian was mediocre at best, so it was pointless to sit here and listen to a bunch of one-sided garbling from this moron.
I pushed through the curtain with Zayn in tow, making no effort to silence the sound of my footsteps on the hardwood floors.
Leonid looked up from his plate, his shockingly green eyes widening with recognition. He was beaming from ear to ear. The bastard had expected us.
I was unable to focus on anything but his disgusting face.
He pushed back from his chair, his short height barely reaching the base of my neck. “Welcome, boys! So nice of you to join us! Come join us for lunch.” He motioned to the empty chairs flanking either side of the table. Igor stayed seated, showing us his toothless smile.
Zayn and I stopped midway to the table. Before I could speak, Leonid addressed us again.
“You seem to have caught us at right on time. Say hello to my friends, sister.”
Confusion clouded my thoughts. He had a sister? I glanced to the guest seated with their back facing me.
“Get up, girl,” he spat angrily.
The woman stood up carefully from her seat, as if she were a lowly slave mindlessly following a command. Slowly, she turned to face me, locking her panic-filled eyes with mine.
I had to do a double take just to believe what I was seeing. My chest filled with dread and the pit in my stomach swallowed my heart. I damn near collapsed from shock.
Bright blonde hair. Glossy blue eyes. Fair skin.
Leonid’s voice pulled me out of the storm of thoughts that were brewing in my head. “I believe you’ve met. Jai Sethi, this is my little sister, Karina Petrov. I believe you might know her as ‘Claire Varon.’”
Chapter XXII
Claire
5 Years Prior—Kazan, Russia
“Wake up, my love!” Maman whispered in my ear.
I groaned and rolled onto my side to quiet the murmuring. I had stayed up late reading a juicy novel, and only decided to turn in when I had dozed off, causing my book to smack me in the face.
It had become my regular nightly routine as of late since I couldn’t sleep with all the noise in the house. My father barking commands at all hours of the night. The slapping of combat boots against the wood floors outside of my door. The sound of guns being loaded with bullets. Something was happening, and I was too scared to ask any questions, so I stayed in my room and read.
“Karina! Wake up!” Maman’s voice sounded more urgent as she rolled me to my back and shook me awake. Her French accent always grew thicker when she was upset.
I blinked my sleepy eyes open, seeing nothing but darkness. It must still have been the middle of the night since I didn’t see sunlight peeking through my windows.
Maman’s face came into focus in the fog of black around me. “What’s wrong?” I croaked out as I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
She shushed me. “Not so loud!”
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. 4 a.m.
“Why are you up so late?” I finally noticed her clothes. She was dressed in jeans and her thermal coat, the one made of velvety, water-repellent material.
“We need to leave. Now!” She shoved a bundle of clothes at me.
“Wait. Why?”
“Your father is dead,” she whispered roughly, almost as if she wanted to scream at me.
I gasped. My mind raced with a myriad of thoughts and emotions, but none of them included sadness or sorrow at the loss of my father.
“We need to leave. It’s not safe for us here anymore.” She yanked me off the bed and handed me my shirt to urge me to get ready faster.
Living here had never been safe. I learned this at a young age from the company that my father kept, as well as his own domineering personality. Maman and I had learned to keep to ourselves, so as to never upset him. Though he had never laid a hand on me, the emotional abuse made me feel like I was an inconvenience more than a blessing. Maybe if I had been a son, he would have loved me the way that Maman loved me.
I lifted the hem of my pajama top over my head and pulled on the long-sleeved thermal. “Where will we go?”
“Paris.” Maman had been born there and relocated to Russia after marrying Papa. I didn’t know much about how she had met my father, especially since he was the Pakhan of the Bratva. I couldn’t imagine them having had dates in coffee shops or him buying her flowers. Much of their relationship was a mystery to me, mostly because Maman kept the details hidden from me.
I pulled on my pants and set about slipping my shoes on. “How will we get there? What if the Bratva find us?”
“They will not. Mikhail is helping us escape and offering us protection.” Mikhail was the only member who had a conscience. He had always looked out for me and Maman when we were at risk of bearing Papa’s wrath. He would always alert Maman as to when Papa would be coming home so she could make herself scarce. He would even sneak me new books so I could stay occupied in my room when I was trying to avoid any of the leering from the other Brothers. If Papa had only known he was good to us, he would have had him hanged a long time ago.
I zipped up my outerwear, preparing myself for the cold Kazan weather outside. Luckily, it wasn’t snowing, but it would be too cold to leave without any insulating gear.
Mama grabbed me by shoulders and locked eyes with me. Her fear emanated through her hold on me. “As soon as we leave this house, you are no longer Karina Petrov. Do you understand me?”
I stared at her wide-eyed.
“Your new name is Claire Varon of Paris. Mikhail has supplied us with new identities. You are never to utter Leonid Petrov’s name again.”
I nodded. Thankfully, I knew how to speak French in addition to Russian. Maman had spoken to me in her native tongue from the time I was a baby, probably in preparation for an event like this.
“But what about Leonid? What will happen to him?” He was my brother—half-brother with different mothers, to be specific. Although he had never been warm or very brotherly to me, we shared the same father and that still made us family. Surely, we would be taking him too.
Just then, the sound of machine guns firing outside pierced through the stillness of the night. Maman shielded my body with hers and pulled me toward my bedroom door. Squinting my eyes to glance out the window, I made out a figure seated on top of a tank in the front yard, waving his weapon in the air. Leonid.
I looked to Maman in confusion. “Leonid killed your father, and he is coming for you next.”
We rushed through my bedroom door, leaving my small sanctuary for the last time.
Pre-order here to read the end of Jai & Claire’s story!
Books by Victoria Woods
The Power Series
Power
Empowered
Control
Uncontrolled
coming Summer 2021
Author’s Note & Acknowledgments
Thank you so much for reading Control! I can’t begin to express my gratitude for all the love and support you have shown me through this journey. Your excitement builds my excitement, and I can’t wait to share the rest of this story with you. Please feel free to leave a review if you loved Control! Your reviews are the highest compliment I could receive!
From the moment of Jai’s inception in Power, I knew that he would have his own story. He needed to. His personality was so strong and large, that I wanted to explore more of it. Until Control, we had only ever seen him on the sidelines as the likeable playboy who offered his fidelity and advice to Shyam and Amelia. Thought it may have never fully come through in the first two books, his character was deeply flawed. Even though he was six years older in Control, he still had a lot of growing up to do and I wanted to showcase that in his story. As the younger brother and new leader of the cartel dynasty, he had a lot of catching up to do. Shyam had been groomed for the role of leader, whereas Jai had always been intended to be a right-hand man from birth. I felt it was important to detail how in some ways he needed to learn the qualities that were required of him to replace his brother.
Keeping all of this in mind, I wanted a strong female as his love interest. Although Claire was younger than him by more than 10 years, her background and genetics made her the perfect match for him. Jai needed someone to kick his ass and put him in his place and I think Claire fit the bill.
Now, I know Control ended on a cliffhanger that left most of you gritting your teeth at me, so I don’t want to go into too much detail about Claire and why she was the right heroine since much of her past is still a mystery. I will say that the depths of her ferocity and ruthlessness are even unknown to her. Once you finish the next book, you’ll understand why she isn’t just a “little girl.”
I really enjoyed writing this book, even more so since Zayn, Shyam, Amelia, and their kids all played integral roles. The comfortable banter between Amelia and Jai was perhaps one of my favorite things the write.
I really hoped I did Jai justice for you and that you didn’t despise me too much for the ending. LOL! I had originally wanted to end it with the scene in the restaurant but decided to give you a little more with a glimpse into Claire’s past.
Before I go, there are few people I absolutely must thank.
Paisley, my editor, you are always willing to work around my schedule and co
nstantly making the crazy sh*t I dream up happen. Thank you!
Cherie, my cover designer, you just get me. I feel like I’m always coming to you with off-the-wall ideas, and you turn them into magic. Your work is insanely good and I’m so lucky to get to work with you! I still need to turn the Control cover into posters for the both of us! LOL! Thank you!
Daiana, my formatter, I’m really kicking myself for not meeting you sooner. You make creating a beautiful paperback seem so easy and effortless. Thank you!
Nisha, my beta-reader, my proof-reader, and my friend…I can’t thank you enough for all the roles you fill in my career and in my life. You are the most nurturing being I’ve met, yet your critical eye is invaluable. I love how excited you get about new books and your passion for helping other others flourish. My life is better with you in it. Thank you!
AL Woods, my favorite author, my shrink, and my friend…this journey wouldn’t be half as fulfilling or half as enjoyable without you. Your support means everything to me. I never would have thought this friendship would grow into something that encompasses all facets of my life. Thank you!
To the ladies who are die-hard supporters of my work, I celebrate you: Becca, Zoeyjayne, Emily and Kerri. I love you guys! I live for your feedback and just feel like you just understand my madness. You all get me so excited to put out more books. I am grateful for you. Thank you!
And finally, thank you to my husband, my constant supporter, and the rock of my life. I love you more now than I did when I married you.
About the Author
Victoria Woods is an edgy romance author who enjoys crafting stories filled with suspense, smart female leads, and sexy alpha-males. She lives near Seattle, Washington with her husband and human, as well as fur, children. Drinking coffee while creating stories as the infamous Seattle rain taps at her window keeps her inspired.
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