by Shandi Boyes
“Justine’s parents?”
Clover’s smirk would have you convinced he isn’t a hired hitman. “Seemed to appreciate the hamper of goodies you had delivered earlier tonight. All residents are accounted for and sleeping.”
His reply shouldn’t thicken my cock, but it does. The hamper filled to the brim with cheeses, delicatessen meats, and enough alcohol to knock a sailor onto his ass wasn’t my idea. That was all compliments of Roxanne. She knows how heavy men sleep when they’re bellies are full of alcohol since it was the only time she got a couple of hours of peace when she was a child.
“Send three men in with me. Make sure one of them is Collin.” –What? I can’t help but hate the prick— “The remainder can either keep watch out here or head back to the compound. The choice is theirs.”
My jaw tightens when Clover’s hand shoots out to stop my entrance into the Walsh residence. “You don’t think they should wait it out to see how Nikolai responds?”
“No,” I answer without pause for consideration. “Nikolai is entering my turf unannounced and uninvited. It’ll do him best to remember he has no right to retaliate.”
Stealing his chance to reply, I enter the open door on the back patio before making my way to the basement. It only takes me raking my eyes over the gunless and dickless men huddled in the basement once to discover who the leader of their operation is. He’s the only one with bloody wrists from fighting the zip-ties circling them.
While pacing his way, I remove my knife from its pouch on my belt. The dark-haired man doesn’t cower when I crouch in front of him with my knife braced in front of me. He’s too stunned by me cutting off his restraints to talk. “If you’re smart, you’ll keep those murderous thoughts inside of your head and come with me.”
He rolls his wrists before balling his hands into fists. “If I’m not?”
My vicious smirk should tell him everything he needs to know, but just in case, I slice my thumb across my throat.
Certain he has the picture, I house my knife, then spin away from him. He could stab me in the back with the fire stoke balancing on the far side wall, but I’m not worried.
Only a fool goes straight for the jugular of the King.
A true rival takes down the prongs holding up his reign.
While Nikolai’s goon follows me up a set of rickety stairs, Smith advises Nikolai’s fleet of vehicles have left a private airstrip on the outskirts of Hopeton. He should arrive within the next couple of minutes, giving me plenty of time to commence my ruse.
After taking a seat in the den housing enough cots for a dozen men, I gesture for Nikolai’s man to do the same in the seat across from me. Suspicion makes itself known on his face when my suggestion comes without the removal of any guns of the three men flanking me.
He thought I brought him here to kill him. In reality, I’m testing his value. If he survives Nikolai walking in on us seemingly having a private conversation, I’ll know he is more valuable than a standard foot soldier. If he’s clutching his bludgeoned throat at my feet within seconds of Nikolai’s arrival, I can cross him off Nikolai’s top ten.
The rankings of Nikolai’s men are worthless to most crews, but to me, it’s hard to put a price on it. Knowing someone’s priorities far exceeds knowing the digits in their bank accounts, because the sooner you learn where someone stands in someone’s life, the sooner you know their weaknesses.
“Cigar?” I make sure the pricy watch Roxanne gifted me at Christmas is seen while offering the goon a cigar that costs more than most men make a year. Since I have time to kill, I may as well work out where his loyalties lie.
Dark hair falls into the man’s even darker eyes when he shakes his head. “You should enjoy it. You won’t when Nikolai arrives.”
His reply humors me, but not as much as the panic that crosses his face when a familiar Russian accent sounds from down the hall. “Is Dimitri aware of my arrival?”
“Nu-uh,” I say to the goon seated across from me when his lips twitch to rat me out. “If you so much as breathe heavier, the little red dot on your chest will make a fucking mess.”
Usually, I’d kill him just for ruminating over the idea of ratting me out.
Alas, I’ve changed since I became a father.
I also don’t want to subject Justine’s family to more gore than I already have. They had to piece their daughter back together after my father ordered for her to be mauled by a dog trained to kill. They don’t need more carnage.
I don’t know whether to be amused or frustrated when the clamping of the goon’s mouth has me hearing Landon’s reply. Landon is one of Justine’s older brothers. He acts regal, but his exterior is nowhere near as shiny as his brother who spent the last five years in lock up. “But I’m certain he’s aware of Maddox’s impending release. His crew’s presence in Hopeton has doubled the past month.”
It didn’t double because Maddox has finally stopped taking it up the ass like I did four years ago. It tripled because my family linage is going gangbusters. I can now say my last name without tasting dirt, and soon it will have the honor Roxanne, Fien, and Matteo deserve it to have.
After scrubbing my jaw to loosen its tightness, I say, “For a man who flies all over the world, your geographical knowledge is shit.”
As Nikolai’s eyes snap to mine, his hand slips into the back pocket of his jeans. Unlike me, who favors guns over knifes, Nikolai is never without his trusty knife. It killed his father, gave him his throne, and awarded him his queen. His favoritism is understandable.
I love carnage. For years, it kept the blood pumping through my veins as black as my son’s hair. Now, the cravings are nowhere near as severe. That doesn’t mean I won’t sit back and watch the occasional massacre occur, though.
Nikolai isn’t reaching for his knife solely because I’m in his presence. He spotted Collin standing at my side, and a craving for a bloodbath is seen all over his face.
I’m not the only one noticing it. Clover was a nanosecond from lighting Nikolai’s chest up with the scope of his M4. The only reason he didn’t is because I signaled for him not to. If Nikolai wants to take out the trash, I’m more than happy to let him.
Disappointment balls my hands when Nikolai doesn’t sentence Collin to anything but a murderous glare. I want to say it’s because he’s weak and pathetic, but I gave up lying around about the same time I took prostitutes off my agenda. Nikolai is holding back because he doesn’t want to force Justine to see the vile side of our life any more than I wish I could have kept her off my father’s radar. I made mistakes back then, many of them, and only now do I have the chance to make them right.
“Wait for me outside.”
My back molars smash together when Collin acts as if I didn’t speak. He wrongly believes the Petretti blood in his veins will save him from my wrath. I’m not close to reaching the same conclusion, but before I can show him exactly what happens when you ignore my direct order, Nikolai’s goon commences his punishment on my behalf.
He twists Collin’s arm around his back before he distorts his neck in a way that isn’t close to normal. When he marches him to the door, Clover strays his eyes my way. He’s forever on alert. A simple scratch of my nose would see every man in this room taken down in under five seconds, and if the tick in his jaw is anything to go by, Collin would be the first punk-ass on his list.
After taking in a bloody tooth halfway down the hall, smirking when I realize it belongs to Collin, I return my focus to Nikolai. “He’s lucky I don’t pay him for his looks.”
Nikolai tries to ignore the humor in my tone. You can be assured if the mafia kingpin thing doesn’t work out for him, he’ll never be an actor because his acting skills are shit. “Then what are you paying him for? It can’t be his smarts.”
While murmuring about the mess my father left me to clean, I shadow Nikolai’s walk into the den. He isn’t happy I’m here, and the feeling is mutual.
After sitting in the chair his goon just vacated, Nikolai moti
ons from me to sit across from him. I smirk at his gall. It’s the least I can do since my hands are itching to creep for my gun. This is not his turf, so he doesn’t run the show around here.
The smoke from his recently lit cigarette bellows between us when Nikolai says, “You shouldn’t be here without an invitation.”
I shift on my feet to ensure he can see my face before replying, “I could say the same for you, Nikolai. You don’t belong here anymore than I do.”
I don’t just mean in Hopeton. I mean the throne he’s been sitting on the past year. Both our reigns were founded by lies and shady handlings. Only mine is moving out of the shrouds our father cloaked it in.
My thoughts are pulled back to the present when Nikolai discloses, “Justine is with child. My child.”
Images of Justine don’t roll through my head during his confession. All I can see are the tears in Roxanne’s eyes when she demanded for Dr. Klein to scan lower on her abdomen, and the fury that engulfed me when I noticed the boot-size bruise on her hip. It reminds me of how I failed her. How I let my enemies hurt her in a way I swore they never would.
It also has me torn on leaving right now to ensure she never faces that same injustice again and warning Nikolai he should keep quiet about his news. I understand he’s proud of his accomplishment, I get he wants to shout his victory from the rooftops, but he could face more than a takeover bid if his enemies discover Justine is carrying the future heir of the Russian cartel.
We were raised by cruel, heartless pricks, but our enemies don’t know this since they forever peer at us from below. They stupidly believe we were raised with golden spoons in our mouths, and respect by the bucketloads, so they don’t just want us to pay for their inaccurate beliefs, they want us dead for them.
The only way they can do that is by killing the women we love.
I’ll never let that happen to Roxanne. I’d kill every person in this godforsaken kingdom before I’d ever let anything happen to her.
As much as this kills me to admit, I believe Nikolai would do the same for Justine.
Mistaking the determination on my face for anarchy, Nikolai asks, “Why are you here?”
I thrust his cockiness back a few notches by replying, “I’m here to issue a warning.”
“A warning for what?” His tone reveals his mood is teetering. If it’s anything close to the turmoil in my gut, he too will require more than a bloodbath to settle his unease. He’ll need the heated cunt of his woman.
I owe this man nothing. He has disrespected me more than I have ever disrespected him, but Roxanne’s words before I left this morning are still ringing in my ears. It wasn’t by choice, and I’d give anything to change it, but this man is my brother, and I have the DNA evidence to prove it.
With that in mind, I say, “The men Landon mentioned in Hopeton are not my crew. They’re a sanction hoping to get a foothold in my area without my approval.” When wit flares through Nikolai’s eyes, I douse it before it’s half lit. “They’re Russian.”
“Russian?” His voice is as firm as my fists are clenched, but since he doesn’t know me, he once again mistakes where my anger stems from. “Why the fuck would I be interested in a two-bit operation with a main focus on sex trafficking? Despite what your daddy told you, there’s no money in the prostitution conglomerate.”
I take his jab like a man—for the most part. “Rumors are that you’re getting soft. That your focus has shifted away from the game.”
“Soft?” He all but growls his one word. “The only thing about to get soft is your cock when I cut it off and feed it to you.” He lowers his eyes to the gun strapped to my right ankle. “That piece you think I’m unaware of wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for me.” He waits for the anger on his face to reach boiling point before adding, “The guns your crew carry when shipping whores between states are marked with my brand. Even the coke your men sniff off their breasts between shipments was purchased from me.”
Nikolai stares straight at me, pissed I don’t attempt to deny his claims.
Why would I? Guns, whores, and drugs are all our businesses are about. If you’re not trading in it, you may as well be dead.
Humor raises my lips into my infamous half-smirk when Nikolai snarls, “Disrespect me one more time with claims I’m not running my organization to your specifications, and we’ll soon discover who’s soft.” He nudges his head to the door his goon marched Collin out of only minutes ago. “This is your final chance to leave before you discover how hard it is to wipe your ass with your non-dominant hand.”
What did I tell you? He’s a fucking hothead I should be glad to see the back of, but regretfully, I value the opinion of my wife more than worrying about if our exchange will see me as weak.
I demand respect from my men.
I earn it from my wife.
“I came here as a mark of respect…” My words trail off when our conversation is interrupted by the last person I anticipated seeing. Justine is making her way down the stairs, her sturdy footing buckling when she spots my watch. She looks better than the last time I saw her. She’s well rested, healthy, and the scars on her shoulders are nowhere near as noticeable since they’re sheltered by her long red glossy locks.
Just returning her stare for half a second reminds me of why I left my family under Rocco’s watch this morning. I have to make this right. Not just for my family, but for Nikolai’s as well.
After returning my eyes to Nikolai, I tell him the real reason for my visit. “Words that should have been spoken years ago never were, resulting in an outcome that will haunt me the rest of my life.” I swallow with the hope a bit of spit will lessen the severity of my tone before continuing, “I decided to try a different route today. Don’t have me regretting my decision, Nikolai. We may have the same blood pumping through our veins, but we will never be family.”
I lock my eyes with Justine to ensure she knows most of my statement was about her. I hate what she went through. I hate that she believes I’m solely responsible for what happened to her, but I’d hate myself even more if I disappointed my wife for the second time. “If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have allowed you within an inch of Hopeton.”
While Nikolai moves to protect his queen, I attempt to stop Karma’s painful gnaw on my ass. “He has nothing to fear. You may not have paid the debt Col wanted, but you paid more than I wanted you to pay. As far as I’m concerned, you don't owe me anything.” Because I am speaking in my native tongue, Nikolai has no clue what I said.
Justine doesn’t face the same injustice. She doesn’t just understand me, she understands my remorse as well. How do I know this? When she spots Nikolai’s sneaky removal of his knife, she shakes her head, wordlessly demanding for him to standdown.
Nikolai doesn’t immediately fall into step, and neither does my campaign. “Tell him I am not his enemy.”
Sparks of the woman I love are seen in Justine’s eyes when she responds, “Tell him yourself.” She skirts past me like Roxanne does anytime our arguments get a little hot tempered before moving to Nikolai’s side of the den. “He’s right here, willing to listen. You just need to speak to him in a language he understands.”
I almost laugh at her belief men in this industry listen. The truth has to be drummed into our heads for months before we absorb it, twist it until it suits our beliefs, then redistribute it as if it was part of the plan all along.
“That isn’t the way things work in our industry. The only time you become friends with the enemy is when you’re planning to take them down.” As the words of my wife filter through my head, I say, “He may be the devil's spawn, but he's also my brother. I don't wish him any harm.”
Needing to leave before years of hard work is undone in an instant, I dip my chin in farewell before exiting via the front door. Nikolai’s men watch me like hawks, but not one of them move for their weapons. I could thank Clover’s close shadow for that, but I’m too much of a stubborn prick to do that. They’re scared. I can sm
ell it on their skin, see it in their eyes. They know I’m not a man to mess with, and it’ll do them best to convince Nikolai the same.
A storm is brewing, but for once, I don’t feel the need to grab an umbrella. I can’t issue the same guarantee to Nikolai. He’s ruling a kingdom he doesn’t rightfully own. That alone will have his enemies paying close attention to every move he makes.
How do I know this?
I’m doing the same fucking thing.
Nikolai isn’t just my brother. He’s my older brother, and some would say the true heir to the Petretti entity. I just refuse to hand over the reins without a fight.
My daughter was ripped from my wife’s stomach weeks too early, my son was almost killed on the order of my enemy, and my wife was brutalized under my watch.
I faced the carnage head-on.
I lived in hell for years.
So there’s no fucking chance I’ll ever concede my reign without facing a merciless bloodbath first. This war was founded on lies but it will end with the truth.
5
Roxanne
Inappropriate thought after inappropriate thought fills my head when the heavily gruff voice of Dimitri parts the steam surrounding me. “Eyes to the wall.”
He has spent so much time on the field with his men the past four days, the last time we showered together was the night I discovered we were expecting again. It’s been such a crazy week, I’ve hardly had the chance to celebrate the fact we beat the odds again.
I fell in love with the leader of a cartel entity and lived to share the ordeal.
I bet there aren’t many people who can declare the same.
Our relationship is nothing close to ordinary. We bicker, we disagree about almost everything, but that’s all part and parcel when you fall in love with a man who was raised to believe love was only something the weak were blinded by.
