The continued use of their mother tongue was comforting to Vasily. “You’re well aware he doesn’t get much wrong,” he chastised, injecting just the right amount of censure in his tone. It was a sin to verbalize doubt in one of their own’s abilities. Backstabbing and undermining were not accepted within Vasily’s faction. It couldn’t be prevented entirely, but if he heard it firsthand, he put an end to it. Much more forcefully than he’d just done. But this was Dmitri.
“Of course I am.” Dmitri’s whisper mingled with the sound of a couple of drunks happily singing a block away. “But would it be too much to ask for one fuckup to hang over the guy’s swelled head? Just one, and I’ll be content.”
Seemed he’d be left wanting. Because Maksim Kirov, another of Vasily’s favorites, didn’t allow for fuckups. Ever. He was in control. Always. Dominated everything he did. And everyone, or so Vasily heard.
They snapped to attention when Maks’s intel did indeed prove accurate and Viktor Baikov appeared on the sidewalk at the top of the hour. The feud between the Tarasovs and Baikovs had existed as far back as Vasily could remember. No one knew what started it, but a continuous tit-for-tat—hit-for-hit—which included the violent and brutal public gunning down of Vasily’s father, was what kept it alive.
Until now.
Vasily’s hatred of the Baikov’s had found a new root. One that was rotted and decaying, surrounded by rancid soil. He couldn’t wait for the retaliation he knew would follow this trail of death he’d created. One that had no end in sight. For the first time in his life, he was looking forward to it. He…needed it.
Viktor, grandson to the original Pakhan of the Baikov syndicate, took a long, leisurely gander around the shadowy street before he got his ass in gear and ambled down the litter-strewn sidewalk. As he passed a beat-up Citroën and an early 1990s Audi, Vasily wondered if it was stupidity or arrogance that led to the asshole being out on his own. Not a byki in sight.
“Keep moving.”
Dmitri’s whisper was barely audible as they watched their final target slow next to a shit-brown Lada and…fuuuck…
But rather than pull a set of keys from his pocket, Viktor came out with a cell. The tension of the moment was interrupted by Vasily’s own phone vibrating in his pocket. Shit. Now Gabriel could talk? He dug it out and put it to his ear.
“Da,” he whispered. They were far enough away that Baikov couldn’t possibly hear, but he still intended to hurry the convo along.
“Vasily.”
He frowned when the voice in his ear wasn’t Gabriel’s but another that still held the hint of a Romanian accent. “I can’t talk, Lucian. I’ll call you back.” He hung up and dropped the phone into his pocket just to have it vibrate again. With a hard jam of his hand, he snatched it out again. “I’m about to—”
“Bury your daughter alongside her mother?”
An icy layer formed over Vasily’s skin. “Not if I can help it,” he ground out, knowing better than to ask Lucian how he knew about Kathryn and Eva. The Romanian, like all of them, would never reveal a source. Though, Vasily was tempted. If the information had been shared by someone in his bratva, getting a name could possibly aid him in finding the snitch in their midst. Because they definitely had one. And that dead man was close to Vasily. Close enough to have access to Vasily’s home and his personal files. Which was how the Baikovs had received the intel on Kathryn and Eva—bank records showed deposits made into Kathryn’s account every month; funds that supposedly came from the estate of a distant uncle of hers. It wouldn’t have been hard to connect the dots from there.
“It piqued my interest when you spoke to me about needing Gabriel,” Lucian said, showing respect by explaining when he had no obligation to otherwise. “When you bypassed your own men, my curiosity got the better of me. My condolences, Vasily.”
As he glared steadily at Viktor laughing into his cell while standing, alive and well, in the mild summer night, Vasily could barely speak through his stiff jaw. “Thank you. I spoke to Gabriel a few minutes ago, so I’m aware Stefano is causing trouble. Did you have something to add to that?”
“He sent two of his men to Seattle. Gabriel has already dealt with one. Furio Abella could be more difficult to contain.”
Fuck. Impatience was a buzz in his ears. He should have been in Seattle by now. “Furio. Why is that piece of shit doing grunt work?”
“I am wondering that myself. His personal involvement is something I am looking into.” A car horn beeped in the background. “I suggest you return home soon. It is my guess that Gabriel is dragging his feet on doing what he knows must be done where his brother is concerned. Although,” Lucian added, his tone thoughtful, “from what I am learning, he may be spared such a tragic task.”
Gabriel would be spared the task. Vasily would make sure of it. Stefano was targeting his daughter, so it was fully within his rights to deal with the threat. And he would, he vowed with some regret. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to put Gabriel in the position of having to put down his only remaining family.”
“Which would force him into another position he does not want.”
“Boss.”
“Exactly,” Lucian agreed. “But if Gabriel is as smart as I know he is, it is becoming clear to him he is struggling for nothing. That family will not be led by anyone but him. And the sooner he realizes that, the better off we will all be. Oh, and one other thing, Vasily.” His tone dropped to a mildly threatening hum. “Do not dismiss me when I take time out of my schedule to offer you aid. The connection my brother and your nephew have formed between us can be severed with a word. As can many others.” Click.
Vasily slid his phone into his pocket. No matter how powerful a man was in this business—and without conceit, Vasily had to admit he was up there with the best of them—there was always one more powerful. In this case, that would be the elusive Romanian who had just verbally spanked his ass. Even though he was only a few years younger than Vasily, Lucian’s rise to the top had been swift and absolute, and there was no indication that would be changing anytime soon.
“Everything okay?”
Nodding once at Dmitri’s whispered query, Vasily itched to call Gabriel. He wanted a rundown on what was happening from the source. The stilted answers he’d gotten earlier had been nothing but frustrating even while they’d reassured Vasily that Gabriel’s missing report hadn’t been him trying to deceive. He’d admitted to having brought Eva into the fold, and that had saved his ass from…well, Vasily wasn’t sure how he would punish a loved one, but he was just glad he wouldn’t have to.
When Gabriel’s email hadn’t come, Vasily had called his nephew, placing Alekzander in the very uncomfortable position of having to rat out one of his closest friends. After a whole lot of what-the-fuck-do-you-think-I-ams, Alek had given up that their boy was now in full contact with Eva. And he’d stressed, rather uncomfortably, that full contact now meant full contact.
Vasily’s eyes narrowed at the memory. Eva was too young…
His heart squeezed, choking off his breath as her mother’s image slid into his mind. Young was what Kathryn had been when he’d gotten her pregnant. Eighteen years old. And his kitten had given him a daughter. His throat ached as he remembered. God, he’d have given anything to spend his life with them. But his father had had other plans.
Ivan Tarasov had arranged for Vasily to marry a politician’s daughter. The union would have created an alliance damn near impossible to take down. When Vasily had refused, eventually admitting he’d fallen in love with someone, though he’d omitted Eva’s existence until he knew what he was dealing with, Ivan Tarasov had responded with violence, vowing that the reason for Vasily’s hesitation would be dealt with accordingly.
And that’s all it had taken. The threat of death. His kitten’s death. And Vasily had fallen in line. He’d gone home, to his and Kathryn’s apartment, and had made love to her for hours while Eva dozed in her crib in the corner. Once his beautiful sated blonde had fallen asleep, he’
d kissed her one final time before going over to say good-bye to his daughter. Staring into eyes identical to his, he’d picked up his child, and cradling her to his breaking heart, he’d begged her forgiveness for his desertion of them.
Just before dawn, he’d brought Eva to the bed and placed her in her mother’s arms, waiting until Kathryn tucked her child to her breast, protective even in sleep. He’d watched them with a yearning he didn’t think was possible, until he’d had to break the connection by closing the door to their small apartment for the last time.
Vasily’s forced nuptials never did take place. The politician, along with his wife and three children, had been killed in a plane crash that everyone knew had been staged by the opposition, but no one could prove it. As was the norm in their world.
But by then, fearing for Kathryn and Eva’s lives had become the norm, and Vasily hadn’t seen a way around it. If he went back to them, either Ivan would descend, or one of their many enemies would. So, Vasily had vowed to stay away. Not because he had to, necessarily, but because, again, he would never risk them. And over the years, every time Vasily watched this life steal a loved one, Vincente with his mother, Stefano with Adrianna, Gabriel and Stefano with their parents, and so many other hits Vasily had no personal investment in, his desertion was briefly justified.
It was with a sick heart that he came out of his thoughts and into this reality he loathed. One where he had to acknowledge that everything he’d done had been for nothing.
His kitten was dead. And his daughter was being threatened.
The sharp crack of Viktor’s laugh echoing off the buildings preceded the asshole ending his call. As a bead of cold sweat ran down Vasily’s back, Viktor carried on down the sidewalk, retrieving his keys as he approached the loaded Audi that sat in front of an empty bakery—empty, they knew, because Vasily’s men had done a final sweep not fifteen minutes ago before leaving the area.
Without a backward glance, Vasily slipped out of the doorway with Dmitri glued to his ass, and headed down the street in the opposite direction. They hung a tight right and disappeared between two buildings.
They’d just reached the end of the long laneway when a massive explosion lit up the darkness and rocked the dirty concrete under their boots. The parking garage next to them shuddered from the force of the blast.
“Holy shit,” Dmitri chuckled. “Overkill on the C-4?”
A small smile lifted Vasily’s lips. His humor died when the scream of sirens split the air. Fuck. There must have been units nearby. His eyes met Dmitri’s for a split second, and then they were hauling ass to the beat-up Lada they’d “borrowed.” Dmitri slid behind the wheel and started the engine as Vasily took the passenger side. They were moving before the doors were even closed, keeping to the escape route they’d planned.
As they fled, leaving the authorities to deal with yet another unsolved murder, Vasily’s only thoughts were that his daughter was now safe from his rivals, at least for the time being. Her mother was avenged, though it made little difference. And he was free to head home to help Gabriel deal with Stefano.
Christ, he hoped Lucian was right and they had an option open to them that didn’t include killing the stupid bastard. Because deserved or not, that death would leave a scar on a relationship Vasily valued far too much to sully over an already exhausted vendetta.
† † †
Eva clicked on the e-mail Natalie had just sent and printed off the list of people she had to get in touch with in order to set up her office in Manhattan. Gabriel had given her carte blanche earlier, telling her to purchase whatever furniture and office equipment she thought she might need.
Whatever will make you most comfortable, get it, he’d said.
What would make her most comfortable was getting out of this damn office that felt much smaller than it had that morning. Maybe she could look into having some sort of dividing screen put between their desks, she mused with an inner cringe and a reminder that ogling him wasn’t only embarrassing, it was downright frustrating, considering how she’d come to be there. Too bad her anger hadn’t canceled out her attraction to the conniving liar.
His dark head came up, drawing her eye—she was way too conscious of his every movement. Knowing that did nothing to stop her from watching him close his laptop. He didn’t look her way as he got to his feet, and she glanced at the clock near the window. Seeing that it was almost seven, she put her pen down and tried not to stiffen as he leisurely approached and sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. She held her breath as he leaned back, bringing his hands up to link his fingers behind his head in a completely relaxed position. His long legs fell open slightly, his white shirt stretching taut over his chest and abs. He’d lost his suit jacket hours ago.
She cleared her throat of the needy sound trying to escape because, come on, he was just too fucking much.
“So,” he drawled, watching her through heavy green eyes. “How was your first day?”
It would have been great if you hadn’t messed everything up between us even though your behavior gave me the perfect out that I’m only now realizing I didn’t want but really, really should because you make me feel dangerous things I’d be smart to avoid.
Not willing to sound like a lunatic by voicing all that, she kind of held her breath and remained silent. So far, he’d adhered to her stipulation of keeping things strictly professional, but this didn’t feel as though he were asking for a critique on how efficiently her computer had worked.
His brows rose, and she couldn’t remember ever having met a man so comfortable with his arrogance. Would it kill him to smile or something? Maybe look contrite? Sure, the scowls he’d aimed at her throughout the day had made her hot and wet in places they shouldn’t have, but they were misplaced. She was the angry one here. Not him.
With her nerve endings pinging all over the damn place, she busied her hands by needlessly shuffling papers around. “I enjoyed it,” she finally said in a clipped voice. Her lie was followed by her phone going off.
It’s Caleb, honey. Read up.
She died. Right there. Forgetting to put her phone on silence at work was bad enough, but for the ringtone to be Caleb’s very deep male voice was beyond unprofessional! She normally didn’t make mistakes like this!
She blinked, but otherwise held Gabriel’s gaze. He didn’t move a muscle as he clearly waited to see what she would do. She didn’t even weigh her options. No way would she compound her lacking behavior by checking her phone with her boss right in front of her. Even if that boss knew how much her pussy liked him—his words.
It’s Caleb, honey. Read up.
“Need to get that?”
Wow. How had he gotten those words out without moving his jaw? “No.” She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of breaking eye contact first.
The seconds ticked by.
It’s Caleb, honey. Read up.
Gabriel’s lips pressed into a line so thin they disappeared. “Answer the goddamn thing,” he growled. “It won’t stop going off until you do.”
“Okay,” she said happily, as if she were only following orders. As she checked the message, she made a mental note to change the tone when she got home later.
Info is scarce. Forget about SM
Funny, she had forgotten all about Stefano Moretti and her other admirers. Hadn’t thought about them once today. Ok
She hit send and returned her phone to its place on her desk. With the ringer off.
“Buddy in New York?” Gabriel’s tone was so sharp she wanted to check for knife wounds.
“Caleb. Yes.”
“Something important?”
She wouldn’t mention meeting Stefano Moretti to Natalie. Why share it with Gabriel? “No.”
“Then you’ll tell him not to bother you again during working hours. I’m not paying you to sit here and relieve his boredom.”
Forcing herself not to react to the venom in his tone, she nodded sharply. She wouldn’t grind her teeth. Wo
uldn’t roll her eyes. Wouldn’t tell him not to be such a jerk when being polite about something would get him further.
His long fingers curling into tight fists caught her eye, and she watched as he pushed them down on his heavy thighs, cracking each knuckle with sharp little snaps. A knot had formed on his jaw, and his stare was glacial.
He couldn’t be…jealous. Could he?
The very idea had her softening when she didn’t want to. “Fine. I’ll let him know.”
“You do that.”
Yes, sir. Right away, sir.
A hard rap on the door sounded before she could exacerbate the situation by saluting—no more softening—or flashing a middle finger. Glad for the excuse to move, Eva got up and crossed the office.
She opened the door to find Alek standing in reception, the CEO she’d been led to believe she’d be working for. The one she’d met last night. The one who must have known she’d be working for Gabriel when they’d been introduced.
She forced a smile as her face heated with embarrassment because this man smiling back at her was also well aware that she’d had sex with Gabriel last night. Could possibly have even heard them if the walls were thin enough in the hotel. Had Gabriel mentioned to his friends that she’d been a virgin?
“Hey, Eva.” Alek came in when she stepped aside. “How was your first day?”
How do you think it was? she wanted to scream. Did he think she and Gabriel had fucked their way around the office? Did everyone think that’s how they’d spent their day?
Her glands began to water when she realized Gabriel’s dishonesty had made her the office slut. She was now the woman everyone would talk about at company parties. The one who’d banged the boss to get her job. She hadn’t. But they wouldn’t care about that small detail.
Alek was looking at her with innocent inquiry, his pale-blue eyes friendly. But all Eva saw in her mind’s eye was him lying in bed with a pillow over his head in an effort to drown out her orgasmic cries.
Vengeance Unleashed (The Wanted Men Series Book 1) Page 13
