by SR Jones
“Shit, boss.” Vasily shakes his head. “I’m in. How will it work with the Greeks?”
“Stamatis will effectively be in charge, overall. He’ll take a cut, a hefty one, but he’ll make sure you have safe passage and clear shipping lanes. Allyov, I’m giving all the non-legit London business. The rest of it, Moscow, it’s yours. If you want it.”
“Holy fuck, I don’t know what to say.” Vasily shakes his head. “And you’re doing all this for her?”
“Yes, I am, and you will only talk about her and treat her with respect from now on. Understood?”
“Yes, of course, boss.” Vasily blows out a long whistling breath between his teeth. “Wow, boss, when you go and fall, you do it hard.”
I don’t say anything because he’s not wrong.
“There’s an extra gift in this for you. I’ve talked to Andrius, and he thinks if I give Allyov the London side of things, he’ll let you keep Alexei. I suggest you do. He’s loyal, and he has a fearsome reputation. In fact, from what I’m hearing on the ground, the man is almost as feared now as Andrius was back in the day. You have him as your enforcer, it will go a long way to cementing your power. But…” I pause, take a sip of my coffee, and fix Vasily with a serious stare. “Don’t underestimate your own reputation. You were the one I sent to do my dirty work ninety percent of the time. I might have been ruthless with the orders I gave out, but you carried them out. You’re feared, and you’re respected. You don’t need me to cement that.”
He nods, and his face is alive, excited. He wants this, and he’ll do well with it. I turn to Bohdan, astonished to see what looks like grief etched on his face.
“Boss, I’m sorry, but I don’t want it. I liked working for you. You took me in, gave me a place … but I don’t want to run things with Vasily.”
Vasily makes a low growl in the back of his throat, and Bohdan holds up his hands. “It has nothing to do with you, V. You’re good; we work well together. I don’t want to keep doing this if it’s about the money and shit. I did it for you, K.”
Well, shit. Seems like Cassie is better at reading people than I’ve given her credit for.
“What the fuck are you going to do? Focus on London and legitimate business?” Vasily asks me.
“No. I’m hiving that off too and putting Margaret in control. I will take a cut of that going forward, but your side of things you understand that I’m walking away completely, right? I won’t take a cut, and I won’t be there to help if the shit hits the fan. I can’t. I’m going into a new venture with Andrius, and that’s the stipulation.”
Andrius grins at them. He hasn’t said a word through this exchange, which I appreciate.
“What business?” Bohdan demands.
I explain the plans, and Bohdan looks from me to Andrius and back. “I want in.”
“What?”
“I want in. On this new venture. I want in. I’ve got skills. I can train people. I get you want mercenaries and military to be the ones you train and hire out, but I grew up on the streets. I know street level shit they ought to understand if they’re going to be the best at protection. I can do that stuff.”
“Bohdan,” I say. “Even if Andrius agrees to it—and it has to be a joint decision not mine alone—it won’t pay anything like the opportunity I’m offering you right now. You get that, right?”
He smiles at me. “I’ve got plenty of money saved. I could truthfully retire now and live in comfort. I don’t need a lot. I grew up with nothing. I’m happy to do it for a fair wage and room and board. I’d like to be in on it. I won’t have any contact with this life. I understand this means walking away for good, but I’d always planned on doing so one day. I don’t want this life forever. In fact,” he says with a smile, “I’ve always dreamed about living in Italy or Greece. I want in, and yes, I’m Bratva and you don’t want that, Andrius, but you’re doing this with K, and he’s Bratva too. I’ll sever all ties.”
“You fucking love this life,” Vasily shouts. “All you cunts leaving suddenly. What the fuck? You love the power, the money, and the girls it gets you.”
Bohdan nods. “I do, or I did. Long-term, though, I always planned on getting out one day; I just never knew how. This is a perfect opportunity. If I don’t leave now, and I step up to work with you, V, I only get in deeper.”
“What the fuck?” Vasily shakes his head. “I’m supposed to run things on my own now?”
“You won’t be alone,” I say. “You’ll have Stamatis and his men working with you on the arms. That’s the biggest worry, and they know their shit and are a highly professional outfit. You’ve got London off your plate because I’m giving that to Allyov. All that leaves is Moscow, and let’s be honest, Vasily. You’ve been running that for years anyway. Now, you’ll be doing it officially. Or … you can walk away, and I will pay you a million. Call it a severance.”
“I don’t want to walk away,” he says mulishly. “I’m freaking out at the idea of doing this alone.”
“You know, you could ask Ilya if he wants to partner up,” Andrius says, finally speaking.
“Ilya?” I ask. He’s a Pakhan based in St. Petersburg, and we’ve done business many times before.
“Yeah. Makes sense for you and him to work together, Vasily. You could merge both sides of your operations, Moscow and St Petersburg. He’s trustworthy.”
“I like it,” I say to Andrius. “It’s almost like creating a network. Locking it down amongst us Russians and the Greeks. Keeping the Armenians out, which is in everyone’s best interests. It also stops the fucking Polish mob moving in and keeps the Albanians out too.”
Andrius crosses himself when I say Albanians, and we all bust up laughing, diffusing some of the tension.
“I can see that working,” Bohdan says. “Ilya is a good man. You work with him in Russia, pool your resources, and have the Greeks onside in America, then you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”
“You don’t want in on this?” Vasily asks Bohdan. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing here.”
“No. I don’t. There’s something come up, and I need to focus on that for a while. I can’t give the business one hundred percent.”
“Is this something to do with the ballerina and her manager husband you asked Damen to investigate?” I ask.
Bohdan nods. “She’s someone who was once important to me, and I think she’s in trouble.”
“Fuck me, you’re all whipped; that’s the problem here,” Vasily grouches, but it’s good natured.
“You’re the worst one of the lot,” he says to Bohdan. “You’ve got Bratva blood, man. It’s in your veins. You’re Bratva born. I don’t get how you can walk away.”
“We don’t have to stay what we were born as,” Bohdan replies. “My old man was the lowest on the rung, and I worked my way up to almost being the highest; that’s good enough for me. Now, I want a change. I fucking love Greece. I love the sun.”
“Yeah, you also love money, women, and the finer things in life. You’ll get bored; I guarantee it. When you do, I’ll take you back.”
Andrius clears his throat. “If you do get bored, Bohdan, and go back to working with Vasily, that’s fine, but then you can never come back to us. What I’m setting up with K is going to be legitimate, and we want to make it big. Now, if you want in, we can accommodate that.” Andrius glances at me with a subtle nod, letting me understand he’s doing this for me. “You won’t be a paid grunt either. You say you’ve got savings, then you can come into this as a partner. Myself and K will have to discuss on what percentages and terms, but I’m willing to do it this way. However, if I find out you’ve been in any way involved in Bratva shit, you won’t be working with us any longer, and you won’t be getting a severance slip. Do you understand me?”
Bohdan nods. “Yes, Andrius, perfectly. Go back to Bratva shit, get dead.”
Andrius laughs. “Yeah, you get it.”
Vasily looks lost. It’s not something I’m used to seeing on him. He’ll be
okay, though. He’s colder than me, and that’s saying something. If I can secure him as muscle for Vasily, along with the protection Stamatis will bring, I’ll feel secure that he’s not being left all alone to sink or swim.
“You know, there’s a place here for you too, Vasily,” Andrius says, making me want to kiss him.
“No, thanks. I want to get back to Moscow and business.”
“You won’t be alone,” I say. “You’ve got more backing now than you had last week. Do you realize the power Stamatis has? Or the pull that you and Ilya could have working together? You’ll be fine.”
“Can we still be … I don’t know, friends?” he asks.
“Jesus, yes. You can come see us, come stay,” I answer without looking to Andrius. He made his terms clear, but I won’t abandon my friends. “I cannot get involved with any illegitimate shit, but you’ll always be a friend. Christ, you’re practically family.”
“Okay,” he says, and it’s very little coming from him. I feel guilty, but then I remind myself why I’m doing all this. I have to think of Cassie, of Michael. Of the future.
“Okay.” I clap my hands. “Now if you gentlemen don’t mind, I need to go see my woman. We’ve got hell descending on us in mere days, if the intel from Marcus is correct, and we need to strategize and plan. For now, though, I’m going to rest for a few hours.”
By rest, I mean fuck, and the smirk on Vasily’s face shows he knows it too.
Andrius nods and sips at his coffee. “Can’t wait for this to be over and to be back home with my family.”
I can’t wait for it to be over either. I pray we’ll all still be here when it is.
Chapter Twenty
Cassie
There’s something building. The sense you get before a storm when the air itself is expectant. That’s what the atmosphere in the house is like. As the days and hours tick by, the men become increasingly withdrawn and serious. There are bursts of humor and joking, but mostly, they pore over maps of the area around Konstantin’s property and talk almost hourly on the phone with Damen.
On the second evening, Konstantin comes looking for me, finding me in the pool area. I’m not in the pool because I can’t get my wound wet yet. I like the space, though. It’s peaceful. He surprises me when he strips out of his clothes completely and dives in, swimming ten or so rapid lengths before clambering out of the pool and walking over to me.
“How you doing?” he asks as he leans in for a kiss, icy droplets raining down on me.
I remember what seems like years ago, when he swam up to me in this pool, bracketing me in and making my heart pound. My heart still pounds when he’s around, but not from fear.
“I’m okay. I spoke to Grandma a couple of hours ago, and Grandpa is doing good. They think he can come home in a week or so. I’ve tentatively told her that I might be going to live in Greece and that they can some stay. I think I ought to frame it as a long holiday at first, or she’ll freak out. I know my gran, and she likes her home comforts. I’ve sold it to her as the sun and sea being good for Grandpa’s recuperation.”
“Good. Once they’re there, I’m sure they’ll love it so much they’ll want to stay.” He kisses my neck, and I shiver.
“How are you doing?” I ask him.
He sighs. “Okay. Wanting this fight to be over now.”
“Really.” I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow. “I thought you’d be relishing the mayhem to come.”
“Once upon a time,” he says. “Not now. Not with you in the picture. I thought about sending you away,” he says.
My stomach sinks.
“Only for the next few days,” he clarifies.
“And?”
“And, I don’t think it will be any safer. You’re with me and all the men here. I want you to go down to the basement and stay there. It has a panic room of sorts. Not one of those fancy things you see in the Hollywood movies, but it can be bolted from the inside, and it’s a heavy lock. I’ll send one of the men to stay inside with you. Only come out when he says it’s safe, okay?”
“I’ll be scared to death stuck in a tiny room in the basement. I’d rather be up here with you.”
“No, baby. You need to do this for me. Please?”
I bite my lip and nod. My eyes trail down his body, and his cock stirs under my scrutiny. “I think I’ve healed enough for a bit of fun, don’t you?” I ask him.
“Depends how vigorous this fun might be.” He smirks.
“On a scale of one to ten, maybe a five vigorous.”
“Five vigorous sounds safe.” He leans over me, kissing me.
I reach out and touch his cool, wet skin. My fingers travel over the bumps and ridges of his torso, noticing a small scar on his hip I’ve not taken in before.
“How did you get this?” I ask. I expect him to say from a bullet or something equally dramatic. Instead, he laughs.
“When I was a kid, we used to play this game. One of us would lie on a skateboard and go down this steep hill near where I lived, then another would pile on. One day, I was the one piling on, but I missed. For some reason, I grabbed the legs of the kid on the skateboard and got dragged. Gravel embedded my flesh, and that’s the scar.”
“I thought it would be a bullet or something.”
He turns, showing me the scar on his left shoulder. “This is a bullet wound.”
I stare at it. “Really?”
“Really.”
I get up, stretching, and stand by him. “Let me kiss it better,” I say.
He lets me tenderly kiss the patch of skin and then he lifts me and carries me into the steam room. He takes my clothes off, and the warmth in the air mixes with the heat between us. Once he has me naked, he turns me around, so I’m pressed against the glass. “Do you know the door’s not locked,” he says.
“What?” I start to pull away.
“No, baby. Stay exactly where you are.”
I struggle a bit, but he holds me in place. “What if one of your men comes in?”
“Then he’ll see how hot you are, and he’ll be jealous as hell.”
It shouldn’t, but the idea turns me on. A lot.
I’d never want another man touching me, but one of K’s men seeing us? Not just me, but both of us, and how magnificent we are together? I can’t deny it gives me a thrill.
“He’ll want you,” Konstantin says. “But he won’t get to touch any part of you because that’s a death penalty so far as I’m concerned.”
His hand slips between my legs, and he strokes me there. “So all he’ll be able to see is how hot you are. How amazing this body is. He’ll want you, but he can’t have you.”
Shit, he’s turning me on so much with this scenario he’s playing out for us.
His fingers dip inside, spreading my moisture around as he withdraws and circles my clit.
I’m panting against the glass. One cheek pressed against it, my head turned to the side.
“You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I breathe.
His hand withdraws from my pussy and moves backward, further and further until he’s at my asshole.
“Are you going to let me in here?” he whispers in my ear.
“I don’t know. I’ve not done that before.”
“Just a finger,” he murmurs.
“Okay,” I say.
“Good girl.”
He kisses my neck, and his finger, dripping in my moisture, presses into my most sensitive place.
His other hand comes around my front, and he plays with my clit. I don’t feel any pain when he breaches me; a slight burn, nothing more. It’s not particularly nice either. I don’t hate it but I don’t love it. If it gets him off, though, who am I to spoil his fun. The clit action is awesome as always, so I focus on that.
Soon, he’s where I want him most, his thick cock lined up at my entrance. He pushes in, filling me gloriously.
He keeps working my clit as he thrusts in and out, shallow at fi
rst, then building deeper. I feel my orgasm building. My palms smack onto the glass as I try to find purchase with something to hold me up.
My legs shake as he works me higher and higher.
His finger in my ass presses deeper, and then I feel it. A building pressure, a fullness, that makes the burn pleasant, more of a deep ache. A nice ache.
“You’re the most fucking delectable thing I’ve ever seen. I told you, you were as tasty as those cakes.”
His words take me right back to the coffee shop. Right back to when he was my secret crush, and I shout as I come.
I come so hard it hurts. My pussy clenches him, my clit throbbing, and I feel it deeper than I ever have as his finger works my ass.
Holy shit.
I sag against the glass, but he grabs my hair with one hand, arching my back, and his other comes around my middle, holding me to him as he fucks me hard and fast.
He comes with a groaned fuck, and then we’re both collapsing. Slinking to the floor, a tangled heap of limbs as we laugh.
“You broke me,” I tell him.
God, I’ll let him play with my ass again because that was hot.
“Come on,” he says. “We need to go eat something.”
As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “What time is it?” I ask.
“No idea, but it’s been about six hours since you last ate, which is why I came to look for you. You’re not sick, are you?”
“Nervous.” I shrug. “Okay, terrified. I’m scared you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“No, baby. I’m not.” He kisses me. “I promise.”
We get dressed, and I follow him to the door, which he unlocks. I shoot him a surprised glance, and he laughs. “What? You think I’m going to let any other man see what’s mine?”
“But you said…”
“Took a guess that it would get you hot, and it did. My little exhibitionist.” He kisses me once, swift and hard, then he swats my ass. “Fantasy only, jailbait. You got that? No one gets to look at you naked except me.”
