Vengeance Unleashed (The Wanted Men Series Book 1)

by Nancy Haviland

  Then she lifted her head and her eyes met his, the connection between them snapping.

  The sight of her, the sounds she made, coupled with the scent of the sex and the feel of her pussy gripping him had that familiar zip of lightning ripping down his lower back. He held off as long as he could but finally had to give in. His control shattered and he let go.

  Coming back into his own head took some time, and they were quiet as Eva smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his back, lazily kissing his jaw and neck. When he eventually came up on his elbows, the movement had him sliding out of her body. She bit her bottom lip, her drowsy eyes meeting his.

  “That feels sexy,” she whispered.

  His sound of agreement was cut off by his phone, the ringtone dentist-drill grating.

  “You have to get that, huh?”

  “I should.”

  The sated smile resting on her face didn’t change as she kissed him then slipped out from underneath him. After tossing him his phone, she gathered her clothes, her movements relaxed and loose, and disappeared into the ensuite.

  When Gabriel finished explaining to Markus that he and Alek were taking few days, he cleaned up, dressed, and had just entered the main room when a hard rap hit the suite’s door.

  Not willing to take any chances, even though they were well guarded, Gabriel looked through the peephole—

  Straight into Vasily Tarasov’s cool navy eyes.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Without hesitating, his feelings mixed, Gabriel threw open the door. He was relieved his dear friend had made it back from Russia safe and unharmed. He was also filled with trepidation over what was coming.

  “Son.” Vasily bestowed the usual greeting.

  Were the backslaps different?

  The kisses less than affectionate?

  Or was that just Gabriel’s interpretation because guilt was suddenly an acid bath he was drowning in?

  Christ. He and Eva had just had sex—actually, no. That hadn’t been sex. What they’d shared had been something else entirely.

  Nodding to Dmitri and Aron—the Pakhan’s private guards who were standing with Micha and Jak—Gabriel closed the door.

  “I hear you’ve been a busy man,” Vasily commented. “Must be why I haven’t heard from you. Is she here?”

  “In the bathroom.” He took a slow breath, hopefully not his last, and tried not feel like he was seven in the face of that steady stare. And, yeah, fuck this. He’d never been comfortable playing the role of coward. “Vasily, I have to beg your forgiveness. I know it goes against—”

  A tattooed hand came up to cut him off. Fuck. He wanted to get it over with now. Last thing they needed was for Eva to walk out and trip over his goddamn corpse.

  “I asked you to watch over my daughter. I believe I mentioned that was only until I could get back to do it myself.”

  Gabriel opened his mouth to…continue apologizing?

  No.

  To defend himself?

  Not really. How could he possibly? He’d wanted Eva, and he’d taken her.

  But now he had to try to explain what she was coming to mean to him. How did he do that without labeling it? Something he wouldn’t do in case he was forced to walk away.

  Which was another thing he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do at this point. Especially now that he’d compromised Eva’s safety. He’d successfully taken away her ability to live her life freely and without fear by exposing her to a world no one as innocent and soft-hearted as she was should even be aware existed.

  And yet, she was flourishing, he thought again, his chest filling with pride.

  Vasily made an impatient sound and turned away. “Go get my daughter, Gabriel. We’ll discuss this unexpected development later.”

  As the Pakhan strode into the main room, Gabriel drew in a slow, steady breath. No matter who Vasily was to him, being dismissed in such a way didn’t go down easily.

  But he lubed the shit and swallowed it down while following the command because he knew damn well he deserved so much worse.

  † † †

  Dressed once more, Eva hung up the towel she’d used to dry off and wished she could shake the feeling that what she and Gabriel had just shared was the most intimate of goodbyes.

  Their desires aside, her father would arrive soon. How would he feel about this new relationship between her and Gabriel? Would he approve? Be angry? Because of who these men were, would he feel he’d been disrespected?

  Or maybe he wouldn’t care at all, she thought, having a hard time picturing a Putin-like man waving a finger up at Gabriel for deflowering his daughter…

  “You’re an idiot,” she muttered as she faced her reflection in the mirror. “A real idiot,” she repeated, her thoughts going back to what she and Gabriel had just shared.

  She knew very well she’d shown her desperation. It had been hard to hide it after that stressful lunch that she’d left fearing for her life. For her friends’ lives. For Gabriel’s life. She’d needed to be close to him. Needed to feel him. Hold him. She had been desperate, she acknowledged as his broad shoulders filled the bathroom doorway.

  There was a new tension in his expression that set her on edge. “What’s wrong?”

  “Get over here.” He yanked her to him with an arm around her waist and held her tightly for a moment, his face buried in her hair. Her own arms came up to encircle his neck and she basked for too short a time in the feel of him so strong and sure against her. With a light squeeze, he drew back then took her hand and set them in motion.

  “What’s going on? You’re making me nervous.”

  He kept walking. “Don’t be.”

  O-kay. Maybe Nika was here. That would be good. She was dying to know what had happened between her and Vincente; something clearly had.

  But their company wasn’t Nika.

  It was a tall, commanding man who watched them enter the room from where he stood in front of the windows, his arms behind his back, legs braced. He was dressed business-casual, all in black, right down to his leather shoes. His hair was as dark as hers, his skin…the same tawny shade…as hers…his eyes a deep blue…

  Just like hers.

  As realization dawned, she gripped Gabriel’s hand like a lifeline.

  “Your father didn’t want to wait any longer to meet you, sweetheart.”

  She drew in a sharp breath as the room tilted, and even though she’d understood who he was just by looking at him, it was still rattling to hear it confirmed.

  “I’ll give you some privacy.”

  “No.” She held tighter, knowing without a doubt she couldn’t do this alone. “Stay. Please.”

  Gabriel looked inquiringly at her father—Vasily Tarasov, Russian mob boss, the love of her mom’s life—who didn’t return the look but nodded almost imperceptibly as he stopped a few feet away. His focus was on her, as hers was on him.

  Looking beyond their resemblance, the first thing to strike her, and it did with the force of a slap, was the sadness in his eyes. The heavy, weight-bearing sorrow was unlike anything she’d ever seen, and it reached into her chest to squeeze her heart.

  “Evangeline.” As he slowly reached out, Gabriel released her so that her father could cautiously take both her hands in his. “I cannot express how sorry I am that we are coming together under these circumstances.”

  He didn’t have to express it, she thought as her eyes and nose began to burn in reaction to the energy surrounding him. She could see it. Feel it. His remorse. His guilt. The pain.

  The pain that mirrored hers over the loss of her mom.

  Gabriel had told her that her father had loved them, and it was clear to her now, in that, at least, that he’d told the truth.

  Her lip trembled when she forced a smile. “It would have been nice if it had happened long before now,” she admitted, making sure to keep any accusation out of her voice. She’d never been one to inflict pain on someone already suffering, and she wouldn’t do so now. “But it is what
it is. Gabriel explained a lot, and I’m beginning to understand that you did what you thought was right, even if it did take you away from us. I think I’ll eventually appreciate your effort, but I’m…” She winced through her honesty. “…not there yet.”

  As the stiffness left his shoulders, an extended blink hid the relief that flashed in his eyes. “Your mother’s death.” He roughly cleared his throat. “It…I wish…I would do anything to change the mistakes I made…”

  When he stopped again, her empathy grew because he clearly wanted to take responsibility for the loss she’d suffered, the loss they’d both apparently suffered, but he couldn’t get through it.

  “You loved her,” she whispered as tears flooded her eyes. The realization blunted the sharp edges that were always at the ready to impale her when she thought of him.

  Agony rolled over his features like storm clouds. “Yes.” It seemed as if he wanted to say more but he didn’t. Or couldn’t.

  She glanced at Gabriel to see surprise and a deep sympathy swimming in his eyes as he stared at her father in a way that made it clear he, too, hadn’t understood the scope of her parents’ love until just then. And speaking of…

  She gave the hands holding hers a light squeeze. “She loved you, too.” If ever anyone needed to hear the truth, it was this grieving man.

  He nodded as his mouth firmed into a hard line. Raising her hands, he kissed her knuckles then released her. “You’re aware I’ve been watching over you, and I understand that, and many other issues, have to be addressed if we are to move forward. I hope you’ll give me the chance to explain my actions.” He aimed a dark look at Gabriel. “After we’ve dealt with our most pressing issue, of course.”

  Alarmed by the look, she slipped her arm through Gabriel’s and hugged his hard bicep to her chest. Regardless of their future—if they had one—she wouldn’t let Gabriel take the blame for his brother’s actions. “Yes, there are a few things I’d like to address as well. But, you’re right, they can wait.” They’d have plenty of time to talk after they dealt with Stefano.

  Her father’s eyes narrowed on the possessive gesture as his cell rang. He said something in Russian that had Gabriel making a quiet, satisfied sound, then he excused himself to answer the call.

  As Eva absently rested her cheek on one man’s shoulder while staring at the other, she was disturbingly aware of how easy it would be to fall in love with them both.

  TWENTY-TWO

  “What do you think’s happening?”

  Eva was perched on the edge of the sofa, the remnants of dinner spread around the coffee table in the suite Vincente apparently used whenever he was in Seattle. She’d long ago exhausted the topic of her father and how she’d felt meeting him for the first time, Nika had finally stopped asking when she could go home, and now it seemed they were both listening for the sound of footsteps outside the door. The TV was on CNN but muted.

  “I don’t know. Do you smell leather?” Nika, who was sitting next to her, had her nose in the air, sniffing delicately. “I smell leather.”

  “It’s probably Caleb.”

  After bringing her down the hall, Gabriel and the others had gathered in his suite to confirm flight times, who would stay behind, who would go to New York, etc. Caleb had been put out when he’d been left to babysit, but he’d come around when Eva had asked him to spill what he knew about the Moretti and Tarasov families. He had, with relish, supplied a good deal of information while they’d eaten, and the more Eva heard, the less intimidated she felt. Not that she would ever disregard who these people were and what they were capable of, but her apprehension was slowly taking a backseat to respect.

  Caleb had explained, quite eloquently, that most factions of organized crime—he’d thrown the ODMC in with an expected note of pride in his tone—were basically businessmen just like any other. The main difference between them and government officials or CEOs of major companies was that the supposed criminal organizations ran their ventures openly and without apology. The “respectable” groups didn’t. Yet they did the same sorts of things, some legal, some not.

  Eva was still thinking on that as she tucked her hands beneath her thighs to stop her nails from sounding like castanets.

  “Vincente kissed me.”

  The room rippled like she’d just been dropped into another dimension. Her head swung toward Nika. “What did you say?”

  Nika glanced at her brother, who was on the other side of the room lifting the stoppers and sniffing the contents of the decanters clustered on the bar as he tried to decide what to drink. He kept muttering about rich assholes and no fuckin’ beer. He clearly hadn’t heard his sister’s revelation.

  Pulling her legs up and hugging her knees to her chest, Nika’s straight teeth were on full display as she held a wince, like she was expecting the hotel to come down around her ears.

  Eva slapped her arm. “Speak,” she hissed, knowing she wouldn’t get shit if Caleb returned.

  “We kissed outside the meeting room,” Nika rushed out in a whisper almost too quick to decipher.

  She gaped. “Like, on the mouth?”

  Red hair shimmered around a hard nod. “On the mouth, with tongue, his big, muscly body holding me against the wall.” Nika winced again, holding the expression.

  “And you’re just telling me this now?” She landed another slap to her friend’s arm, causing her to gasp like a big baby. “How…what were…did you…but…God, Nika.” She shook her head to dislodge a full question. “What happened?”

  “I saw him outside and nearly died. He’s gorgeous, don’t you think?” She continued to whisper, rushing through her words, her eyes darting to Caleb to make sure he wasn’t paying attention. “Anyway, I insulted him somehow, and like a big, hot and sexy baby, he implied I was a prostitute to get back at me. Who does that?” She pulled a face and scoffed-laughed-snorted. “But then he apologized and put me against the wall. Eva…I was so scared Kevin was going to show up like he always does.”

  That sucked the huge grin off her face, but she’d get back to that. “He implied you were a prostitute?”

  Nika shrugged. “Asked if he could bring me up here and make me scream,” she practically squeaked.

  “Holy shit,” Eva breathed. Vincente? she thought again. “Was he any good?” Vincente?

  Nika’s emerald eyes sparkled with a mix of anxiety and heat. “Oh. My. God,” she mouthed silently as she glanced at Caleb again. He’d finally made a decision and was pouring something dark over ice.

  “You girls want something? Don’t know what half the shit is, but it’s probably pretty smooth.”

  They both declined and held each other’s stares. What did this mean? Nika was married. To an asshole, yes, but she was still married, and not the type of person to disregard that. Unless…

  As Caleb replaced the stopper on the decanter, Eva steeled herself to break her promise not to comment on Nika’s marriage. “Can I ask you something?”

  Nika nodded.

  “Do you love Kevin?”

  A look of utter loathing twisted her best friend’s lips. “I hate him more than the disease that stole my parents.”

  Eva’s eyes must have been dinner-plate wide as Caleb dropped into the chair across from them, ice clinking in his glass.

  The truth! Finally!

  And she couldn’t do a damn thing with it because Nika was now staring with wild eyes, as if she was appalled by what she’d confessed. Her gaze flashed between her brother and Eva, her lips mashed together. As she shook her head almost imperceptibly, Eva’s phone rang.

  “Mine was much cooler than that shit,” Caleb said. “Aren’t you gonna answer it?” He nudged her phone closer with the heel of his boot that was resting on the edge of the coffee table between them.

  She picked it up, still reeling. Why would Nika stay with Kevin if she hated him? Did she have money issues or something? Was that bastard somehow keeping her there against her will? How, though?

  Trying not to frea
k out, she swiped her thumb across the bottom of her phone screen. Once she spoke to Gabriel—it had to be him calling, because the only other two who would, were in the room—she’d get Nika alone and get some answers.

  “Hello?”

  “Get up and walk away if anyone is near you. Don’t show any fuckin’ reaction that you recognize my voice, or I hit the detonator in my hand and your boyfriend’s suite blows out the roof of this hotel.”

  She went rigid, ducking her head to hide the terror locking up her lungs at hearing Furio’s voice in her ear once again.

  “Say, ‘Okay, Dad,’” he ordered. “Say it!”

  “O-okay, Dad.” She rose from the couch and tried to look casual as she walked a few steps away. It was difficult on legs that felt like rubber.

  “An explosive device was wheeled into Gabe’s suite with dinner. If you don’t do as I tell you, Gabe and his boys are gonna die. Understand, Jacobs?”

  As her body went numb, she tried to think rationally. But all she managed was doubt. How could Furio have gotten anything passed the guards lining the corridor?

  “I don’t b-believe you.”

  “Then you’re stupider than you look. You’re playing with the big boys now, bitch. You think taking out a few guys and some collateral damage means shit to us?” He laughed darkly. “Come on. It’s the home stretch. Kill or get killed. I choose to kill. Gabe, Mao, Tarasov…who else is gonna die because you wanna be naïve? Romani, Kirov…your daddy?”

  As he listed off everyone Gabriel was currently with, her hope died. Her father had only just arrived. Furio couldn’t have known that unless he was watching them.

  Oh God. She tried not to vomit.

  “Nothin’? Man, you’re a cold bitch. How about this? If I hit this switch, you, the biker, and his hot sister are gonna burn, too. You ready to get your friends killed?”

  The hair on her nape stood straight as she looked at the window. He could see them? How?