by Anna Zaires
Apparently reaching the same conclusion, Nora says softly, “Yes, Julian, we should go.” Parroting my gesture, she wraps her slim fingers around her husband’s broad wrist, her tiny hand appearing childlike next to his. Esguerra tenses further, and for a moment, I’m certain he’ll twist out of her grasp, shaking her off with the ease of an adult pushing away a clinging toddler, but he doesn’t.
“Yes,” he says, making a visible effort to relax. “You’re right. Let’s go. I have some work to do.”
Nora nods and drops her hand, turning away. “Race you!” she yells at Esguerra over her shoulder, and with one last glance in our direction, she sprints away, disappearing into the trees. Her husband follows, and a few moments later, we’re alone again.
Lucas turns to face me. “Are you all right?” he asks quietly.
“Of course.” I force a smile to my lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Stepping to the left, I slip around him and hurry toward his house, unwilling to stay in the forest even a moment longer.
I no longer have any doubts about my future here.
The next time Esguerra sees me, blood will be spilled.
45
Lucas
The moment we get home, Yulia excuses herself and disappears into the bathroom to take a shower before starting lunch preparations. I consider joining her there, but decide against it.
As much as I want to comfort her after what happened, there’s something I must do first.
Half an hour later, I walk into Esguerra’s office. He must’ve just showered and changed, because his hair is wet as he stands up to face me, his eyes hard and his jaw stiff with anger.
I don’t bother beating around the bush. “She’s mine,” I say harshly, approaching his desk. “Which part of that was unclear?”
Esguerra’s gaze hardens even more. “I didn’t touch her.”
“No, but you want to, don’t you?” I put my fists on the desk and lean forward. “You want to make her pay for what happened.”
“Yes—and so should you.” He mirrors my aggressive stance, the wide desk between us the only barrier to the violence simmering in the air. “Almost four dozen of our men died, and she’s walking around like nothing happened… running a fucking restaurant on my property.” His words drip with barely restrained rage. “Do you know that a reservation at ‘Yulia’s cafe’ is the hottest commodity on the estate these days? The guards treat those slots like they’re fucking gold.”
I straighten, glaring at him. “Yes, of course I know.” It was only yesterday that I had to break up a fight between two guards—a fight that resulted from a card game where the prize was an eleven-thirty reservation slot on Friday.
“And you’re letting this happen?” Rounding the desk with sharp strides, Esguerra stops in front of me, fists clenched. “This is my estate. I’m letting her live because I owe you, but I do not want to be reminded of her existence every day, do you understand me?”
“Perfectly.” I meet his furious look with one of my own. “Which is why I’m leaving.”
Esguerra goes still, the anger transforming into something colder. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what I came here to discuss,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. Pushing down the rage boiling in my gut, I say in a steady tone, “You will never forgive her, and I will never give her up, so the way I see it, we have two options. We can kill each other over this, or I can take her—and myself—out of the picture.”
“You’re quitting?”
“If that’s what you want.” I give him a level look. “We work well together, but it may be time to go our separate ways. I’ll train my replacement before I go, of course. Thomas is an excellent pilot, so you’ll be fine there, and Diego is smart and loyal; he’ll make a good second-in-command for you. Or…” I let my voice trail off.
Esguerra’s eyebrows snap together. “Or what?”
“Or we can figure out a way for us to work together without me living here.” I pause, letting that sink in. “Before you decided to make this compound your permanent home, we went wherever the business took us. It was nice to settle down here—and certainly safer for you and Nora, given that situation with Al-Quadar—but you know as well as I do that we’ve had to give up a few lucrative opportunities because you wanted to limit travel.”
His nostrils flare. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“When you were in a coma, I ran the whole organization. I handled everything from suppliers to customers, and I got to know every aspect of the business. If you want—if you trust me enough—I can be more than the second-in-command working by your side. I can represent us internationally, do whatever is necessary to grow the business abroad.”
All emotion fades from Esguerra’s face. “You want to be my partner.”
“You could call it that, though an executive operations manager might be a more accurate label. You’d have the final say on major decisions, but I would run the new ventures and keep an eye on our existing operations in person. I could set up base someplace central, like Europe or Dubai, and do as much travel as necessary to keep things running smoothly.”
“You’ve thought this through.”
“Yes. I’ve known for some time that this won’t work long term.”
“Because of her.”
“Yes, because of Yulia.” I hold his icy gaze. “I’m not about to let anything happen to her.”
“And if I don’t agree to this?”
“Your business, your choice,” I say. “I like working with you, but I have other options. For one thing, I can go legit and open a security firm somewhere. If you don’t want this, just say the word, and I’ll be gone.”
He stares at me, and I know what he’s thinking. He can’t let me leave—I know too much about the inner workings of his business—so he has two choices: kill me or agree to my proposition. I gaze back at him calmly, ready for either possibility. I know I’m taking a risk, pushing him like this, but I don’t see any other way to resolve this situation. Yulia can’t spend the rest of her life hiding in my house and trying not to draw Esguerra’s attention. At some point, something’s going to go wrong, and when it does, things are going to get ugly.
I have to take her away before that happens.
Just when I think Esguerra has decided my loyalty isn’t worth it, he sighs and steps back, his hands uncurling at his sides. “Does she really mean that much to you?” There’s weary resignation in his voice. “Can’t you find another pretty blonde to fuck?
I raise my eyebrows. “Could you find another petite brunette?”
A humorless smile stretches across his face. “It’s like that, huh?”
“She’s my everything,” I say without blinking. “So yes, I guess it’s like that.”
Esguerra looks at me, his smile fading. Then he says abruptly, “Ten percent of profits from the new ventures, plus the same salary—that’s my offer.”
“Seventy percent,” I reply without missing a beat. “I’ll be doing all the work, so it’s only fair.”
“Twenty percent.”
“Sixty.”
“Thirty.”
“Fifty, and that’s my final offer.”
“Forty-five.”
I shake my head, though I couldn’t care less about those five percent. “Fifty percent,” I repeat. If Esguerra is to respect me as a partner, I need to stand my ground. It’ll make for a better working relationship longer term. “Take it or leave it.”
He studies me coolly, then inclines his head. “All right. Fifty percent of the new ventures’ profit.”
“Deal.” I extend my hand, and we shake on it. “I’ll get the ball rolling, so we can be out of your hair soon,” I say, releasing his hand and stepping back. “Just one more thing…”
Esguerra’s mouth tightens. “What is it?”
“You know as well as I do that our line of work is dangerous, especially out there, beyond the compound,” I say. “Given that, I need your promise that you won’t ever come after Y
ulia or her family. No matter what happens to me.”
Esguerra nods curtly. “You have my word.”
* * *
That evening, Yulia is quiet and withdrawn, her gaze trained on her plate throughout most of the meal despite her brother’s presence at our table. Several times, Michael tries to engage her in conversation, but after getting only monosyllabic responses, he gives up and quickly finishes his meal.
“What’s up with her?” he mutters as I walk him to the guards’ barracks while Yulia stays behind to clean up. “Is she mad at me or something?”
“It has nothing to do with you,” I say. “She’s just worried about something.”
“What?” The boy shoots me an anxious glance. “Did something happen?”
“No.” I smile reassuringly. I’ve grown to like Yulia’s brother over the past few weeks, and I don’t want him to worry either. “She thinks it has, but she’s wrong.”
The boy frowns in confusion. “So everything is fine?”
“Yes, Michael,” I say as we approach the building. “Everything is fine, I promise.”
He gives me a doubtful look, but when we stop in front of the entrance, he says gruffly, “Tell Yulia I said, ‘Good night and stop worrying.’ She’s such a worrywart sometimes.”
“She is, isn’t she?” I grin at the kid. “And you tell Diego that I’m going to need to talk to him first thing tomorrow, okay?”
He nods and goes into the building, and I walk back home. When I get there, I find Yulia sitting in the lounge chair in the library, her nose buried in a book.
“Hey, beautiful,” I say, crossing the room. “What are you reading?”
She looks up. “Gone Girl.” She puts down the book and stands up. “I should probably go shower. I’m tired.”
“Yulia.” I catch her wrist as she tries to walk past me. “We have to talk.”
She hesitates, then says, “All right, let’s talk. Lucas” She draws in an unsteady breath. “You know this can’t go on forever. Sooner or later, you and Esguerra will come to blows because of me, and I can’t bear that. If anything happened to you—” Her voice breaks. “You have to let me go.”
“No.” I pull her toward me, my gut clenching at the mere suggestion. “I’m not letting you go.”
“You have to.” Her gaze turns imploring. “It’s the only way.”
“No, baby.” I move my hands up to clasp her upper arms. “There’s another alternative. We’re going to leave together.”
“What?” Yulia’s lips part in shock. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to oversee the expansion of Esguerra’s organization,” I explain. “There will be quite a bit of travel involved, so we won’t be living here. We’ll set up base somewhere in Europe or the Middle East—you can help me figure out exactly where.”
Her eyes are impossibly wide as she stares up at me. “You want to leave here? But it’s your home. What about—”
“I’ve lived here less than two years,” I say, amused. “Another place can be home just as easily. This is Esguerra’s estate, not mine.”
“But I thought you liked it here.”
“I do—but I’ll like it elsewhere too.” Moving one hand to her chin, I tilt her face up. “Anywhere you are will be my home, beautiful.”
She exhales shakily. “But—”
“No buts.” I press my thumb to her soft lips. “I’m not sacrificing anything, believe me. I’ll be Esguerra’s fifty-percent partner on these new ventures, so if all goes well, we’ll get filthy rich.”
“We?” she whispers when I take my thumb away.
“Yes, you and me.” And before she can ask, I add, “We’ll take your brother back to his parents. Things are quieting down in Ukraine, so it’s safe for him to return. We’ll visit him as often as you want, of course, and if he wishes to stay with us, that’s also an option.”
“Lucas…” Her forehead creases in a frown. “Are you sure about this? If you’re doing it for me—”
“I’m doing it for us.” Lowering my hands, I cup her ass and pull her against me, my cock hardening as I feel her legs press against mine. Holding her gaze, I say, “I want to know that you’re safe, that no one will ever be able to take you away from me. You’ll have the best bodyguards money can buy, men who are loyal to me and me only. We’ll build a fortress of our own, beautiful—a place where you won’t have to fear anyone or anything.”
Yulia’s palms press against my chest. “A fortress?” Her eyes gleam with hope and a strange kind of unease.
“Yes.” I tighten my grip on her ass, enjoying the feel of her firm flesh even through the thick material of her shorts. Forcing my mind off the lust pounding in my veins, I clarify, “Nothing as extreme as Esguerra’s compound, but a safe place of our own. Nobody will be able to touch you there.”
“Except you,” she murmurs, her slender hands fisting in my shirt.
“Yes.” My lips twist into a dark smile. “Except me.” She’ll never be safe from me, no matter where she goes or what she does. I will protect her from everyone else, but I will never set her free.
“When…” She runs her tongue over her lips. “When are we leaving?”
“Soon,” I say, my eyes following the movement of her tongue. “Maybe in a month or less.”
And before my balls can explode, I reach for the zipper of her shorts and capture her lips in a deep, hungry kiss.
46
Yulia
The next month zooms by in a flurry of work and departure preparations. I continue operating the cafe, figuring the extra money can’t hurt, though I do stop ordering new food supplies and limit the menu as various products run out. The cafe keeps me busy, which is good because Lucas works nonstop, frequently putting in eighteen- and twenty-hour days. In a span of four weeks, he trains Diego to oversee the guards on the compound, sets up manufacturing facilities in Croatia, finds clients for the weapons that will be made at those facilities, and purchases a house on the Karpass Peninsula in Cyprus—a country we settled on as our home base due to its warm climate, strategic proximity to Europe and the Middle East, and relatively high percentage of population fluent in either English or Russian.
“The house is on a cliff overlooking a private beach,” Lucas says when he shows me photos of the new property. “It has only five bedrooms, but there’s an infinity pool, a balcony on the second floor, and a fully equipped gym in the basement. Oh, and I’m having them remodel the kitchen, so it’ll be done exactly to your specifications.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, looking through each photo. Though “only” five bedrooms, the house is large and spacious, with an open floor plan and floor-to-ceiling windows facing the Mediterranean. And most importantly for Lucas, it’s set on ten acres of land that he intends to fence in and protect via bodyguards, guard dogs, and a variety of surveillance drones.
We will be living in a fortress—albeit a gorgeous, beachfront one.
It seems so surreal that I often feel the urge to pinch myself. The life Lucas is planning for us is like nothing I could’ve imagined when Esguerra’s men came to extract me from that Moscow prison. I’m still Lucas’s prisoner—the faint white marks where the trackers went in are a daily reminder of that—but the lack of freedom bothers me less nowadays. Maybe it’s the needy little girl within me, but Lucas’s fierce, unapologetic possessiveness reassures me almost as much as it frightens me.
I belong to him, and there’s a comforting stability in that.
Of course, even if I could leave Lucas, I wouldn’t. With every kiss, with every caring gesture big and small, my captor ties me to him a little tighter, makes me love him a little more. And though he doesn’t say the words back, I’m increasingly certain that he loves me too, as much as a man like him is capable of loving anyone. What we have together is not normal, but neither are we. My “normal” ended with my parents’ crash, and Lucas’s may never have existed in the first place. But as I’m fast discovering, I don’t need normal. My ruthless mer
cenary is giving me everything I’ve ever wanted, and when I stop to think about it, I’m seized by equal parts joy and fear.
Things are going so well I’m terrified something will happen to snatch it all away.
“Is everything okay?” Misha asks during dinner one day. Lucas is working late again, so it’s just the two of us for the third night in a row. “You look worried.”
“Do I?” Pushing my mushroom risotto away, I make a conscious effort to relax the tense muscles in my forehead. “I’m sorry, Mishen’ka. I’m just thinking, that’s all.”
Misha frowns over his quickly emptying plate. “What about?”
“This, that… the transition,” I say with a shrug. “Nothing in particular.” I don’t want to tell my teenage brother that the future, though bright and shiny, scares me to the point of nightmares every night, that a cold, hard fist seems to be permanently lodged inside my chest, squeezing my heart every time I think of how fragile and fleeting happiness can be. Pushing the dark thought aside, I smile at Misha and say, “What about you? Are you excited about going home?”
“Yes, of course.” Misha’s face brightens as he reaches for a second serving of the risotto. “Lucas let me speak to my parents yesterday. Mom was crying, but they were happy tears, you know? And Dad is already planning all the things we’re going to do together.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” The knowledge of my upcoming separation from my brother is like an acid burn on my heart, but the joy in his eyes makes it all worthwhile. “How are they?”
Lucas showed me the surveillance photos taken of Misha’s parents, and I can now picture them in my mind. Natalia Rudenko, Obenko’s sister and Misha’s adoptive mother, is a slim, stylish brunette who resembles her brother, while Misha’s father, Viktor, is plump and balding—a typical middle-aged engineer. He’s almost ten years older than his forty-something wife, and he looks it, but he has a kind face, and in many of the pictures I’ve seen, he gazes at his wife with a worshipful smile.
