Nikolai 2 (Her Russian Protector #6)

by Roxie Rivera

  "She's strong, brilliant and nurturing. She's found her place." Right next to me.

  Romero made a throaty noise. "You're still going to London this weekend?"

  "Yes. We leave on Sunday."

  Romero glanced out the window, but not before Nikolai caught an expression that resembled regret. "That's good. I'm glad she's getting this chance."

  Nikolai wasn't about to invite him to tag along or tell him that Vivian wanted him there. She didn't. "What are we going to do about Julio and Mando? We can't let this keep spinning out of control. Julio just threatened Vivian to my face. I can't allow this to play out in my city."

  Romero stared at the windshield. He seemed to be carefully weighing his options. "I'll talk to Julio again." He held up his hand before Nikolai could interrupt him about the money. "I'll find a way to make it right."

  "He wants Mando. Unless you tell him where to find your friend, he's going to start crossing names off lists—and he'll try to start with Vivian."

  Romero's dark eyes flashed with a warning. "He won't touch my daughter."

  "Your daughter and your grandchild." Nikolai hadn't been planning to reveal her pregnancy to her father yet, but it might be the only way to make Romero do the right thing. "We're pregnant. Eleven weeks."

  Romero didn't say a word. He seemed completely stunned. "Vivian," he said finally. "A baby?"

  "Yes."

  Romero's throat moved up and down and he swallowed audibly. He seemed to be searching for the right words. Finally, he found them. "I don't particularly like you, Nikolai. I've learned to tolerate you."

  High fucking praise indeed.

  "When I heard you were going to marry Vivian, I didn’t like it, but I honestly couldn't think of a better man for her."

  The statement rocked Nikolai to the core.

  "I don't mean that in the traditional way." Romero kept his gaze fixed forward on the windshield. "I mean that in the sense that by simply being my daughter Vivian is in a great deal of danger every day. My list of enemies is a mile long and growing every day. There aren't very men in this world who could keep her safe and love her." He paused. "But you do."

  "I do," Nikolai agreed. "I will."

  "You have to watch her carefully," Romero instructed. "After the baby comes," he clarified. "Katya was always wild and unpredictable. Those were things I loved about her—until I didn't. Until I realized that she wasn't right. That she was broken up here." He tapped his temple. "It was having Vivian that flipped some switch. She was never the same again."

  "Vivian isn't her mother." Nikolai growled the words.

  "No, she isn't, but she's a woman and things happen to women after they have babies. You have to watch her. Keep her safe. Keep the baby safe."

  Was Romero thinking about the day Katya had tried to drown Vivian as a child? The day a neighbor had broken down the door to save her? Was he thinking about all the times that Katya had abused Vivian while he was off running errands for the cartel or riding with the club?

  "You don't have to worry. I'll keep them safe."

  Romero finally looked at him and nodded. With a rough sigh, he reached for the door. "I'll get this thing with Julio taken care of while you're in London. It'll be safer for Vivian that way." He opened the door and climbed out of the SUV but didn't immediately close the door. "When you get back, we need to have a long discussion."

  "About?"

  "Our next moves," Romero said, as if strategizing together was the most natural thing in the world.

  "Our moves?"

  "It's time the two of us stop barking for our masters. It's time to cut the leashes."

  Nikolai stared at the door that Romero quickly closed. Was his father-in-law proposing what he thought he was?

  "How did it go?" Kostya asked as he fastened his seatbelt.

  Nikolai replayed his father-in-law's parting shot. "I honestly don't know."

  Kostya swiveled in seat, bracing his hand on the console. "What the hell does that mean?"

  "It means things are going to change. Whether we're ready for it or not," he added ominously.

  Kostya let that sink in for a moment. No doubt, he was already running the various scenarios and making lists of all the dirty deeds that would need to be done to protect the family. With a disturbingly cool shrug, Kostya said, "Fuck it. We'll make it work. We always do."

  That was just like Kostya to put it all in perspective. "True."

  Turning back toward the windshield, the cleaner announced, "I'm starving. Let's have a steak and a beer and forget this shit morning ever happened. Then we'll head back to Houston and track down Ivan and Ten."

  Happy to let someone else make a decision, even if it was something as simple as lunch, Nikolai dropped his head back against the seat, closed his eyes and nodded. "Da."

  Chapter Six

  Nikolai grinned warmly as Ten strode into the coziest private dining room at Samovar with Ivan and Kostya right on his heels. Only a few inches shorter than Sergei, Ten sported similarly broad shoulders and the physique of a fighter. He had obviously burned a lot of prison time exercising in the yard. No longer did he wear his hair long. It was clipped short, but he had a scruffy beard now. There were a couple of new tattoos on Ten's neck and arms, all of them marks Nikolai had sanctioned from the outside.

  "Boss." Ten extended his hand, but Nikolai surprised him by embracing the other man tightly. Ten stiffened, but Nikolai didn't hold it against him. He had spent enough time on the inside to understand how difficult it was to allow other people to invade his personal space.

  Stepping back, Nikolai let his arms drop to his sides. "You look good."

  "I feel good." Ten glanced around the dining room, his eyes darting toward the corners almost as if he expected to find men lurking in the shadows.

  "It takes time, Ten." Nikolai cast a look at Ivan who studied his friend with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "You'll adjust." He gestured toward the table where the best the restaurant had to offer awaited them. "Come. Eat."

  Though Nikolai preferred the seat with the best view of the room, namely the entrance and exit points, he let Ten have it tonight. Ivan dropped down into the other chair and reached for his silverware. Always so easy in social settings, Ivan took control of the conversation and kept it light and fun. The stories he told were intended to draw Ten back into the life he had left behind and familiarize him with the changes that had occurred during his time inside.

  Sitting back and pushing away his dessert plate, Ten shook his head. "I still can't believe you're married. I never thought I'd see the day that you let yourself be chained to one girl."

  Ivan toyed with his wedding band. A faint smile played upon his mouth. "When you meet Erin, you'll understand. Most days I can't believe she agreed to marry me."

  Nikolai chuckled at that. He understood what that was like. There were mornings he woke up and simply gazed upon Vee's sleeping face because he couldn't quite believe that she was his wife.

  Ten stared at Nikolai's wedding band. Unlike Ivan who had chosen to wear his according to the American custom, Nikolai wore his on the right hand because it was the Orthodox way and Vivian's preference. "You wouldn’t believe the kites that were flying between cells when the news hit that you were going to marry the machete's daughter."

  "I can imagine." Nikolai folded the edge of his napkin as he pictured the small folded notes attached to long strings of floss soaring through the air between cells. Deciding this was as good a time as any to bring it up, he said, "I wanted to speak with you about Vivian."

  "Should I leave?" Ivan asked, already rising from his chair.

  Nikolai swept his hand through the air. "Stay."

  Ivan sat down and reached for his fork again. It was a move that didn't surprise Nikolai in the least. Far from it, actually. The sight of Ivan cleaning his plate, refusing to leave even one tiny scrap of food behind, took Nikolai back to their shared childhood. Cold, hungry nights hadn't bothered Nikolai that much. He had turned that
hunger into anger and used it to fuel his survival and his rise through the ranks.

  But Ivan? Ivan hated being hungry. Whenever he ate, he made sure to finish every morsel available to him because as a child meals had been meager and few and far between. Despite finding success and wealth with his investments and business, Ivan was still that scared, hungry kid deep down inside. Erin's love for him had gone a long way toward easing some of those deep-seated fears but some habits would never change.

  Turning his attention toward Ten, Nikolai began a conversation he expected the other man was not going to like. "I realize that you had hoped to be slotted into a job at Alexei's dealership or with the gym," he motioned toward Ivan, "until your probation was finished but I need your skills somewhere else."

  Looking slightly uneasy, Ten said, "The conditions of my parole—"

  "Will not be impacted by what I'm about to ask of you," Nikolai assured him. "You will follow them to the letter. Your new duties will never take you anywhere near those types of activities or people."

  Ten's eyes narrowed. "What sort of job is this?"

  "I need you to guard my wife."

  Ten's lips parted with shock. He clamped them shut and worked his jaw back and forth. His prized enforcer had the worst fucking temper so Nikolai steeled himself for a blowup.

  But it never came.

  Nostrils flaring slightly, Ten inhaled a steadying breath. The muscles in his neck were flexed, and his hands were curled into fists atop the table, but he maintained control. Finally, he said, "If this is what the family needs me to do, I'm happy to take the job."

  "Ten." Nikolai sat forward and tapped the table. "This isn't a punishment or a demotion. Even if you were legally free and clear, I would still ask you to do this for me. I need the very best men I know watching Vivian. Sergei is gone, and if I thought Ivan would come out of retirement for me, I'd ask him."

  Ten's shoulders dropped and the insulted look on his face faded. He asked the most obvious question. "Are we going to war?"

  Now it was Ivan who tensed. Apprehension darkened his face.

  "Not yet," Nikolai answered. "Not if I can help it."

  "Then why me?" Ten seemed honestly confused by the request. "I was your best enforcer. I was the man you called to do the jobs no one else could. I trained Sergei for you and made sure there was someone to keep this city in line while I was away. To ask me to babysit your wife?" He touched his chest. "I'm sorry, boss, but it seems like a waste of my skills."

  "Vivian is absolutely precious to me. She's my one weakness—and my enemies know it." Nikolai didn't like admitting that aloud but Ten deserved to know the truth. "She was already a target because of her father, but now that she's my wife, she's the biggest target in the city. Something is coming." He rubbed his thumb along the spot where his pulse beat on the underside of his wrist. "I can feel it."

  "The cartel?" Ivan asked the question everyone plugged into the underworld wondered.

  "Lorenzo Guzman is losing control. Romero will make a play, but he's not the only one. It could get messy." He held Ten's gaze. "I need to know Vivian is safe, especially now."

  "Especially now?" Ten repeated.

  "Now that she's pregnant." Nikolai dropped that bombshell without warning. "It won't be easy to hide much longer." He was talking to Ten man to man now and not as his boss. "Will you watch over them for me? I need to know they're safe."

  "Yes." He answered without hesitation. "Of course."

  Nikolai glanced at Ivan who drew a finger across his lips. He wouldn't breathe a word about the pregnancy, not even to Erin.

  Leaning back in his chair, Nikolai said, "Sergei has agreed to talk to you about guarding her. He was with her the longest so he knows her the best. They bonded like brother and sister." He hesitated as he considered the hard, violent man in front of him. "I don't expect that sort of friendship between the two of you, but I need to know that you'll treat her…gently."

  Ten shot him a look of consternation. "Boss, I'm not going to sit here and defend my reputation. I'll treat your wife with the same respect I give you—but I don't need a friend or a sister."

  Nikolai lifted both hands. "Fine. That's fine."

  "When do I start?"

  "Tomorrow." Nikolai gestured toward Ten's messy beard. "You can keep that but clean it up." He eyed the other man's jeans and polo shirt. "We need to get you some new clothes."

  Ivan took the lead on that one. "I'll take care of it. We can go see my guy in the morning after we visit his P.O. and the DPS office for his license. Then I'll drop him off at your house?"

  Nikolai nodded. "We have a new kid at the house who can do all the driving until you have everything arranged. He's young and has a clean record."

  "Boychenko?" Ivan grabbed his glass of water and finished it. "He's a scrappy little bastard. Sergei might actually be able to turn him into a fighter. He'll always be a featherweight but he's got potential."

  "Wait." Ten seemed confused. "Roman?" He held up his hand to measure five feet or so from the floor. "The kid who bags groceries at his grandmother's little market?"

  "The market is gone," Nikolai said, "and Roman is nineteen. He's working for Artyom now." Recognizing that lost look in Ten's eyes, he shrugged. "A lot happens in six years."

  Ten nodded slowly. "Yeah."

  Fully aware that the shock of being released from prison made it easy for a man to slide into depression, Nikolai decided it was time to send Ten on his way. A celebration would be good for him. It would remind him of all the friends who cared about and had missed him. He needed to feel surrounded and supported. He needed to be made whole again.

  He walked them out the side entrance while they waited for one of the valets to bring Ivan's Escalade. He shared a look with Ivan as the other man slid behind the wheel of his vehicle. Like brothers, they could communicate without saying a word. Keep him out of trouble.

  "They'll be fine."

  Nikolai searched the nearby shadows for Kostya. He hated the way the former covert operative skulked in the darkness. There weren’t many men who could get the drop on him, but Kostya was one of them. Thankfully they were on the same side.

  "Ivan will take care of him. He won't let Ten fuck up his parole." Kostya finally emerged from the shadows. "You want me to drive you home?"

  Nikolai shook his head. "No. Are you heading to the party?"

  Kostya shot him a look that said of course. "I'm catching a ride with some of your line cooks. If you need me—"

  "I know how to find you," Nikolai replied.

  Kostya took exactly four steps down the street before turning suddenly. "Shit." He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and retrieved a cell phone. "I forgot I had this."

  Nikolai accepted it from him and tucked it into his own pocket without a glance. Vivian wasn't in the habit of texting or calling him unless it was important. If it had been something that needed his immediate attention, Artyom would have found a way to get a message to him through Kostya or Danny.

  He spent more than an hour in his office going over paperwork. Samovar and the legitimate and very successful businesses he owned wholly or partly around the city were the major sources of his personal income. Early on, he had recognized that building a legitimate portfolio was the only way to stay out of prison. So he had kept his eyes open for business opportunities and had availed himself of Yuri's head for finance.

  His first forays into legitimate earning hadn't been smooth or above-board exactly. Truthfully, the first few car washes and bars that he had acquired had been on defaulted loans he had extended. The construction company that he intended Sergei to run in the near future had been purchased when the previous owner needed fast cash. Any time a man left the family—men like Ivan or Alexei—he made sure to fund their startups. Twenty or twenty-five percent ownership here or there added up quickly.

  While his crew earned tidy sums off of their illegal activities, he made sure they were receiving the bulk of their income through the side busi
nesses. That way they weren't tempted to get stupid and surrender to the temptation of easy but dangerous money. Their hands were dirty, but they weren't that dirty. He stayed on their asses about paying taxes and keeping out of trouble.

  Thoughts of avoiding the trouble brewing around the city plagued him as he drove home. There were so many pieces to this puzzle, and he could no longer tell where each one fit. He finally had the one thing he had wanted most—a family with Vivian. His stomach in knots, Nikolai accepted that one wrong move could cost him everything.

  As he drove by Judge Walker's house, he thought of his promise to help the man extricate his daughter from a bad situation. The morning after giving the order, Boychenko had given him the address and a quick rundown of the situation after a few hours of watching the house where the woman was living. It wasn't going to be easy to get her out of there, not if her habit was as bad as Boychenko's investigation had uncovered. She was hooked on that sweet Colombian candy and her dealer.

  After he parked in the garage, Nikolai ambled toward the side gate that granted him access to the alley. He walked the shadows like a man used to living in them, completely at ease and not the least bit afraid of what might lurk in them. Frankly, the types of people who hid in the shadows were probably more likely to be afraid of him. Well—all of them who weren't Kostya.

  The judge left his back gate unlocked. Nikolai frowned at that. Anyone could get in here. Bad people even. Like me. He entered the backyard and used the flagstone walkway. He had traveled twenty feet before he heard the unmistakable click of a revolver cylinder slamming into place. With a quirk of his mouth, Nikolai stood perfectly still and lifted his hands. The porch light suddenly illuminated the backyard and blinded him from seeing anything on the screened-in porch.

  Playing along with the judge's game, he slowly lifted his jacket and turned in a circle. Seemingly satisfied that he was unarmed and had no ill intentions, the judge flipped the light off. The thunk of the gun landing on a table echoed in the night.