by Shandi Boyes
“That could have occurred a shit ton earlier if he had accepted Dimitri’s offer.”
I continue talking as if Rocco never interrupted me. “Justine is his baby sister. She wouldn’t miss his release for anything, and Nikolai would never disappoint her like that.”
How do I know this? Dimitri went to hell and back to help Claudia, and we’re not even related, so I’m confident when I say Nikolai will be making an interstate visit sometime soon.
“There are rules he must follow.”
“Rules you’d ignore in an instant if it had a chance of negatively impacting Fien, Matteo or me.” I scoot to the edge of his desk before lowering my head so we meet eye to eye. “Nikolai isn’t your enemy, Dimi.”
When he attempts to talk, I press my finger to his lips. “He wasn’t when he bought the Dvořáks to justice for hurting me, and he wasn’t when you sent Collin to ‘collect’ Justine so Nikolai could finish what he started at the Petretti compound. You are family, you were just raised to believe differently.”
I inch back before placing my hand on the teeniest bump in my stomach. “The same could have happened to our children if you hadn’t fought for Fien as your father failed to do for Nikolai.” Col knew he had birthed a child with Vladimir’s wife, yet he still let Nikolai endure horrific abuse at the hands of his enemy. That isn’t something a father does. “Talk to him, threaten him if you must, but don’t act like this isn’t concerning you as much as it is. You’re not fooling anyone, Dimitri—not even someone as simple-minded as me.”
The tightening of his jaw reveals he doesn’t like me speaking down about myself, but if he won’t automatically stand up for his family like I know he wants to, I have no choice but to make it seem as if we can’t defend ourselves.
More than satisfaction for a job well done pumps through me when Dimitri says a short time later, “I’ll talk to him.” His confirmation my ruse had the effect I was aiming for isn’t responsible for the jitters skating through me. It is what he says next, “Once I’ve taught you what happens to anyone who dares to speak about you with disrespect.” After pushing his chair further away from his desk, he nudges his head to the floor. “On your knees, Roxanne. If my cum can’t wash the dirty words out of your mouth, I’m sure my cock can ram them so far down your throat you’ll never speak them again without thinking about me first.”
I don’t need to peer over my shoulder to know Rocco and Smith have left. The swivel of Dimitri’s hand when he wordlessly demanded for them to leave is indication enough, not to mention his tattooed hands moving for the belt on his trousers.
A killer is on the warpath and there’s only one name on his list.
His wife.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tickled pink by the knowledge.
3
Dimitri
“Am I keeping you from something?” I ask Rocco, acting oblivious to where his thoughts have been lately. “Or should I say someone?”
While I slip out of the room I share with Roxanne, Rocco grumbles a heap of curse words under his breath. He loves meddling in relationships, but when it includes his, he clams up like he didn’t have the gall to kill his father in cold blood.
That was the only time I’ve ever seen him sweat. I guess it’s understandable. You don’t feel remorse when you’re taking out the trash.
Eager to get things moving so I can get back to my family before they wake, I shift our conversation from personal to business. “Is Nikolai’s flight on time?”
Rocco lifts his chin. “To the minute. His pilot is almost as anal as Landon.”
His reply makes me smile. Not because Nikolai believes his sneak into my town in the wee hours of the morning will go unnoticed, but because I almost have all the Walsh’s on payroll. It’s amazing what money can achieve. It truly seems as if the world wouldn’t spin without it.
After scrubbing my hand across the bristles on my chin, I get back to the task at hand. “Remind Roxanne to take her iron tablet when she wakes. Ollie said her levels are a little low.”
“Oh… so a lack of iron is the reason for the circles under her eyes? I thought that was because she was up being thoroughly fucked all night. My bad.” He pauses, purses his lips, then asks, “Do you want me to hit Ollie up for some Viagra for you? I’ve got no shame. I can get the shit you’re too embarrassed to ask for but need.”
When I shoot him a warning look, he laughs as if I’m not about to gut him where he stands, but mercifully, he also keeps his mouth shut. It’s for the best. I may have killed him if he didn’t. I’m still a jealous, neurotic prick when it comes to Roxanne, and even with news of Rocco having his own permanent squeeze circulating amongst the crew, I can’t rein in my somewhat infuriating neurosis.
“Remind Roxanne about her vitamins, then stay the fuck out of her room unless she needs you.” I’d rather stay and take care of business myself, but since that isn’t an option, Rocco is the next best thing. He riles me like I won’t slit his fucking throat, but my kids think the sun shines out of his ass and he loves them just as much, so he’s the second best man for the job.
Does the knowledge make it any easier to walk away? No, it doesn’t. But I’d prefer to be gone for an hour or two than not see my wife and kids for months on end like I did Fien. Rocco’s presence guarantees that will never happen. He’d slay a thousand men before he’d let anyone hurt my family, and I’d be right there beside him killing the rest.
After handing Rocco the key that opens every room in my home without a hint of disdain on my face, I make my way down the corridor. Unlike my father, I never leave without saying goodbye to my family first. I’ll never let anyone take them from me, but if I were to be taken I want them to know they’re on my mind when I wake, and the last people in my thoughts before I go to sleep.
Fien is almost six, has two wobbly front teeth, a face of an angel, and almost dead-straight hair, but she is as lax on personal safety as it comes. She doesn’t notice me sneaking into her room. I guess to her it’s as customary as Roxanne’s nightly shouts. I snuck into her room multiple times per night when she was first returned to me, and even now, four years later, I still do it at least twice a night. I get a great amount of satisfaction knowing she’s sleeping in her bed, under my roof, unharmed and safe.
After ruffling Fien’s hair and kissing her temple, I head for her brother’s room next door. Although Matteo’s hair is as dark as Fien’s and his eyes are just as blue, his personality is on the opposite end of the scale. He’s three going on twenty-three, has chompers that cause significant damage any time Rocco pisses him off, and he not only senses my approach when I sneak toward his bed, he springs off his mattress, jabs me in the Adam’s apple, then wraps his arms around my neck.
He isn’t cuddling me goodbye.
He’s showing me he has the strength to choke me out if I was a real intruder.
“Pew-pew. Die, dada, die,” he stutters through a mouth full of spit and sleepy, drooped lips. “I tilled you.”
“Killed. You killed me,” I correct, aware he hasn’t got a grasp on his K words yet. “And good job. You hit my jugular before I had time to respond. I almost swallowed my Adam’s apple.”
My praise means nothing to most, but to my son, it is as if I lassoed the moon for him.
“Where are you going?” Matteo asks while rubbing a hand over his tired eyes which aren’t hazy enough for him not to recognize I’m dressed in my ‘work’ clothes. “Can I come?”
“Not this time, buddy.” I scoop him off my neck before folding down the bedding and placing him back into bed.
I’m a hard ass gangster, but even I can admit his dropped lip cuts through me like a knife. He wants to be a part of the industry he was born to rule so badly he’s willing to pretend he is older than he is just on the hope I’ll give him a chance to prove himself.
“But I promise you can soon, okay?” I tuck him in before pushing his almost black hair out of his eyes. “But for now, I need you here taking care of
mama and sissy for me. We can’t let anything happen to them, can we?”
He shakes his head. “And, and, and.” He stutters when he’s excited. “Not baby brother, either.” The ‘baby brother’ part of his comment clears away half the spit in his mouth.
After wiping his saliva from my face, I arch a brow. “Do you think mommy is having a boy?”
“Uh-huh,” he answers without delay, proving what I’ve always known. He is like me in every way. I also believe Roxanne is having a boy. My belief is so firm, I already have the perfect name picked out for him. “Fien will be angry.” Matteo screws up his face before roaring like a bear, replicating his sister’s angry face to perfection.
“Sissy won’t be mad. If she is, we might have to tickle her into submission.”
When I hold out my hands in preparation to tickle him until he pees his pants, he screams blue murder. He hates being tickled. I don’t blame him. It’s the most emasculating thing in the world. He may only be three, but even he doesn’t want his reputation ruined by his father’s unkosher parenting.
“All right, all right, calm down,” I say when his screams ramp up to a level that would wake the dead. “I’ll save my tickles for Fien.”
Matteo wipes at his sweaty brow before plopping his backside onto his bed. “Phew, ‘cause I need to go potty.”
When he charges for the attached bathroom, I spot a stalker I’m stunned he missed. Usually, not a mountain full of candy steals his devotion from his mother when she’s in the room.
“Let me guess. You threatened to tickle him, didn’t you?” Roxanne saunters into the room, her hips swinging more when she notices my thirsty watch. When my half-smirk answers her question on my behalf, she pulls my hands away from my body, then slips onto my lap.
“Don’t fucking tempt me,” I growl under my breath when she moans about the reaction my body had to her seductive walk. “Our son is in the bathroom most likely peeing all over the seat, and our daughter is asleep in the room next to us. I don’t have the time nor the privacy needed to work through all your kinks.”
Roxanne smiles during the first half of my statement, coos at the second, then straight-up pouts throughout the ending. “I didn’t come here to tease you.” The whine her words are delivered with reveals she’s lying. Alas, her wish for me to see sense through the madness is stronger than praying our son falls asleep in the bathroom. “I just wanted to remind you to look at Nikolai like Fien did Matteo when he was born. The connection is there somewhere.” She holds her hand over my heart. “It’s just buried really, really, really deep.”
“Deep enough to ever find?” I ask before I can stop myself.
My kids have made me weak.
My wife has made me weak.
But I still wouldn’t change one goddamn thing about my life.
Roxanne cups my jaw like she did while reminding me I’m not fighting alone before nodding. “If you’re willing to dig deep enough, you’ll eventually find it.”
Stealing my chance to reply, she presses her lips to mine. The wish for a murderous bloodbath skates through my veins when she fails to open her mouth at the demand of my lashing tongue. I get why she’s holding back, I can feel Matteo’s beady eyes all the way from the bathroom. I just fucking hate that she’s holding back.
Her lips bring me back from the brink. They could very well be the only thing that will see me coming out of today without the blood of my brother on the sleeve of my dress shirt, so I’m not willing to give them up for anything.
“Matteo, close your eyes.”
Like the good foot solider he’s endeavoring to become, he snaps his eyes shut in an instant. Always one step ahead of his competitors, he doubles his assurance he can follow orders by clamping his hands over his eyes, and even quicker than that, I ram my tongue down his mother’s throat, then kiss her with everything I have.
It isn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had. Now I have to work out how to exit Matteo’s room without him spotting the tent I’m pitching in my pants, but I’d do it all again in an instant if it gives me the same calm, nurturing effect. My life isn’t anything close to pretty, but Roxanne’s lips on mine remind me that even the most hideous paintings can be seen as artistic when viewed by the right set of eyes.
“Don’t shower until I’m home,” I murmur against Roxanne’s lips after reluctantly pulling back. “Your candy mouth fills my lungs with air, but the greedy sucks of your cunt make breathing an unnecessary requirement.”
It dawns on me little ears are listening when Matteo giggles about me saying the word ‘cunt.’ He has no clue what it means. He merely knows it’s a word he isn’t allowed to say until he’s much, much older.
After a final bite of Roxanne’s kiss swollen lips, I stand to my feet with her in my arms. I place her onto Matteo’s bed, then swing my eyes to my son standing in the doorway of his bathroom with his eyes still clamped. “You’re the man of the house now, Matteo. Make sure you take good care of Mama and Sissy until I get back.” I do three big strides to the door before stopping and arching back. “And if Uncle Rocco gets into too much mischief, take care of him as well.”
Matteo’s grin reveals he looks forward to riling Rocco as much as Rocco enjoys riling me. “I will, Dada.”
As he bounds across the room to update his mother on all the things he plans to do today, I exit his room. My shoulders grow heavier with every step I take. Confrontations don’t faze me, but keeping my family hidden is a challenge I’m slowly growing weary of. I renege on my decision almost every month. The only reason I’ve stuck to my guns so far is recalling the boot-size bruise on Roxanne’s hip four years ago. I failed her back then. She was hurt on my watch, so you can put money on it that I’ll do everything in my power to ensure it doesn’t happen again.
4
Dimitri
With the hour early, I make it to the Walsh residence before Nikolai. The two-story home is one of the best in the street, but it’s nothing close to the sprawling mansion I collected Justine from for our first date. Either the Walsh children are scroogie with their money, or their parents refuse to accept donations from their offspring. Whatever it is, they’re living well below their means.
I’d dig a little deeper into their financials if I weren’t aware somebody else already has. The ownership in Nikolai’s eyes when he rocked up unannounced last year revealed he’d go to the end of the earth for Justine, so buying her family estate for double the asking price seemed like the next logical step.
I invested well when I bought stakes in the Walsh entity, and no, I’m not solely referring to their beachside mansion either. Landon was still sour about his first tussle with a Mafia Prince when I rocked up at his place of employment a month after Nikolai left town for the second time. He didn’t make it out of that exchange the same man.
“Has Nikolai arrived yet?” I ask Smith while skimming past the hedges lining one side of the Walsh’s rented home.
I doubt the family dog will bark. Smith sent a crew here early this morning in preparation for my arrival. I still get my hands dirty when it comes to all aspects of my businesses—excluding whores. Not only am I disinterested in them, Roxanne would gut them where they stood if they stupidly thought they had the chance to come between us—but I now leave the fiddly shit to my men. The more duties I pass on, the more time I have with my family. Considering I lost almost two years with Fien, you can be assured I’ve become a master of delegation the past four years.
“Not yet. Didn’t you hear? His flight isn’t scheduled to land until lunch.”
I work my jaw side to side. “If you believe that—”
“I need to find myself a new fucking job,” Smith interrupts, laughing. “Nikolai doesn’t travel during the day because the devil has never seen a sunrise, meaning—”
“He’ll arrive at dawn. Like he always does.”
My punishment for Roxanne’s rile four years ago lasted well into the wee hours of the morning. We were set to break our record for th
e longest fuck session when Nikolai stole the thunder. He slit the throat of the man I had on the door, made a second one piss his pants, then walked through my family home like he owned the place.
Our tussle that night wasn’t close to pretty.
I don’t see this morning’s ending any better.
The thirst for a bloodbath dries my mouth when I round the corner of Justine’s family’s home. I asked Rocco to place my best men on this. He did—if you exclude Collin’s inclusion.
Roxanne was right three nights ago. I took Collin with me to ‘collect’ my win in the hope Nikolai would finish what I couldn’t. Collin is from my father’s debunked crew, and although I am now the leader of that chapter, I can’t order his demise. Collin has Petretti blood pulsating through his veins. The lineage is as weak as the ties Megan now has with my family, but enough for me to pass on his killing to a man deserving to claim his life.
Regretfully, Nikolai’s focus didn’t shift from Justine long enough to realize who her collector was when she was auctioned. He’s still a fucking hothead, but just like his little brother, his woman has weakened him. I won’t know whether that’s a good thing or not until he arrives here this morning.
“Were you given much trouble?”
Clover stops barking orders to crank his neck my way. “Do I ever face trouble?” His Arabian accent is still thick even with him living state side for the past six years. “We have half a dozen men in the basement.” The way his lips quirk reveals they’re not in the basement via their own choice. “We’re watching another six surrounding the perimeter. We could move for them now, but Smith said to hold.”
Understanding Smith’s objective, I lift my chin. If Nikolai arrives without any men flanking the premise, he’ll storm inside instead of arriving onto a battlefield unprepared. The latter is more favorable if I want him to come out of our meeting without a bullet wound.
