Dark Mafia Prince: A Dangerous Royals romance

by Annika Martin

  Something feels wrong. This is all going too easy.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Viktor

  Here is a secret about the orphanage that nobody will ever tell you: When you’re in one, you always hope that you were not wanted. An accidental pregnancy.

  Because the alternative is that you are a product of violence, torture, horror. That you are ugly and hated from birth. That’s what you always believe, though.

  When the families pass you over, you think they see your ugly heart. It’s worse when they take you home only to return you. Moving into the Bratva, I became an overachiever in violence. It was a way to get at least somebody to want me.

  Now with that talent I help my brothers.

  We find Archie Vega is alone in his house, on his Exercycle watching the eleven o’clock news. The TV and the Exercycle keep him from hearing us, and when he sees us, it keeps him from running. He nearly falls off it, trying to get away. I pull him off.

  Yuri and Mischa hold him at gunpoint while I ask about Kiro. He tells us he knows nothing. I see in his eyes that this is a lie.

  “You want to tell us,” I say simply.

  He shakes his head. Ta quift bota nanen.

  Tito translates: “May the world fuck your mother.”

  “Okay then.” We tie him to a weightlifting bench. It’s metal. Good and strong. “I will fuck you up then.” I cut his clothes off him. He needs to feel vulnerable. I need the information fast. To get Aleksio out of that restaurant.

  The day Aleksio arrived changed my world. A blood brother.

  I belonged. I wanted to drop to my knees and weep there in the garage when Aleksio told me I had a family that actually wanted me. He was so angry with for what I did to Mira. I didn’t think he’d be so angry. It fucked me up, as Aleksio would say. But I will earn back his love.

  I wish I could have walked in there with him. Of course it would be madness for us both to go in there. If it gets bloody, the other must remain for Kiro. Still, I hate it. If Aleksio dies, I want to be by his side, dying with him. It would be a privilege to die with Aleksio.

  I press the knife to Vega’s belly. I feel the clock ticking, but I smile and laugh. You never let them know you’re in a hurry. It gives them power.

  Easy things first. What he ate for dinner. Make him visualize the inside of his belly, and what I will do. Pirogi, he tells me. With white fefferoni. I send Mischa to check his dinner dishes.

  Now he begins to freak. Why is this so important? Why do we want to check his dinner dishes? I wait, as though bored. Scaring a man is in the crazy fucking details.

  Mischa comes back and confirms it all—in Russian—and I smile. “Okay, then.”

  Just like that he calls his maid. An old woman with a head scarf. She was hiding. She leads Mischa to a box of paper files. She says Lazarus got jpeg images of these files. These are the originals.

  I find the file about Kiro. A Worland file, like the ones we stole, except nothing is blacked out. An address.

  I text Aleksio. I have the address. But so does Lazarus.

  Yuri drives like hell back while I go through the box. There are other files, too. Lots of secrets here.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Aleksio

  Aldo Nikolla has finished his raki, and a new one arrives without his having to ask for it. He lowers his head, voice gravelly. “You want to kill me so bad it hurts,” he says. “You could, you know. You have everything I have on Kiro. You might get out alive. I’m guessing you have guys in here, right?” he looks around and then back at me with curiosity. “Why don’t you go ahead and try it?”

  Because I promised Mira. Not like I’ll say that. I turn my tumbler of vodka on the napkin. Something feels wrong. This is all going too easy.

  “Is it Lazarus? You don’t want Lazarus in charge?” He picks up his newly arrived raki, cloudy liquid in a slim glass. “A lot of men are scared of Lazarus running the show. But you’re not scared, are you? You don’t scare. Konstantin would’ve beat that right out of you.”

  “Say his name again and I’ll take one of your fingers.”

  “There it is. Loyalty. Sentimentality. Just like your father.”

  I know what he’s doing—trying to unbalance me. We’re in a standoff, here in this booth. Neither of us can move on the other. I give him a cool stare. “You don’t know shit about me, old man.”

  A kid comes by with a tray of cigarettes, and Nikolla takes one. Chicago has laws about smoking indoors, but Agronika is another world.

  “You have a CEO strategy, but inside you’re volatile and emotional, just like him. He played the hard guy, but emotions made him a puppet. Emotions made him my puppet.” He lights up.

  My face burns. “You’re calling my father sentimental for trusting his supposed best friend and partner? You are I pa besa, old man.” Without loyalty, without honor.

  It’s the worst thing you can say to a man like Aldo. And in his case, it’s true.

  He gives no sign of caring. He barely seems to have heard. Suspicious movement to my side. I don’t like it.

  “Your father never saw me coming. Never imagined. That’s how I got the drop on him. He didn’t think strategy; he ruled by his heart. He let his emotions cloud his mind.”

  Stay cool, don’t take the bait, I think through the surge of heat that moves through me. I could make him mad, too. I could tell him how Mira’s lips felt, wrapped around my cock. But, sentimental fucker that I am, I don’t. I protect her. The motherfucker’s right.

  He looks up, cold dark eyes under bushy brows. “You really think you will find Kiro alive?”

  My heart pounds. I feel him. I know he’s still alive.

  “The foolishness of you moving on me before you have Kiro. The three brothers together would have given you credibility. I have a little saying: ‘You only have to shoot when your threats don’t work.’ With Kiro, your threats would have been enough. But you couldn’t wait. Had to ride out to find your brother. Konstantin wouldn’t have allowed it, but he’s old now, isn’t he? You’re running the show now.”

  “I will be.”

  “Pah. You Dragushas. You’re easy. Your father was easy. Your mom was even easier.”

  I power through the surge of rage.

  “She lay there after with her mouth open. Eyes open. Nobody to close them—that’s what she was worth.”

  “I closed them,” I say.

  This surprises him.

  “You didn’t know? I was there the whole time. Konstantin pulled me into a nook by the window. We saw what you and Lazarus did. We waited until the house was clear. You were searching the grounds for us. So stupid of you not to take a little extra time. I went to her, and I closed her eyes and her mouth. And my father’s. And I vowed to destroy you. You’re already gone, old man.”

  I say it calmly, and I make it sound as if the vow was the huge thing, and not creeping around the blood and touching their eyelids like that. I trembled when I closed my mother’s eyes, wanting to throw myself down next to her. And then pushing their lips back together, as is the custom. Konstantin made me do it. My father’s lips wouldn’t stay together, and I nearly lost it—it’s always the little things that put you over. Maybe Konstantin sensed it. He forced my father’s jaw closed for me and we got out.

  “Why not kill me? You’re so white hot, you can’t even think straight right now, can you, Aleksio? Why not go for me?”

  “You think I won’t?”

  He tips his head like he’s just getting something. “Did she make you promise not to off me?”

  Shit.

  He smiles. “And you fucking went for it? You can’t let her take advantage like that.”

  “Advantage? Jesus, you’re her father, and you let us cut her finger off. Why not just tell me about Vega on the lawn? You wait until we start with body parts? Don’t you give a fuck about your daughter?”

  “What do I have right now?”

  “What?”

  “What do I have?” he asks.
“Look where I am in this game we’re playing. Let’s compare ledgers, shall we? I bought the time I needed, time to find Kiro myself. Lazarus’ll beat you to your brother and put this prophecy to rest. What’s more, I’m free. I’m safe from you, aren’t I? And what do you have? You took Mira’s finger. Oh, I very much give a fuck about her. I wasn’t playacting out on the lawn, and I will make you pay.”

  “Your daughter’s finger—”

  “I didn’t think you’d do it.” He shrugs.

  “We threatened to kill her if Kiro died.”

  “Please,” he says smugly. “You won’t kill her. When Viktor said that, I knew instantly you hadn’t discussed it. More than that, I remember you and Mira together as children—probably more than you remember. You two had a rare kind of bond. I knew the more time you spent time together, the safer she would be. Anyway, you’re like your father—I see him in you. Ruled by emotions. Soft when it comes to innocents. Mira’s finger. I’m impressed—”

  “How the fuck do you look yourself in the mirror?”

  “I’m not the fuckup here, Aleksio. You moved on me without the psychological advantage of the three brothers united. You put sentiment above strategy, and it told me how to play you. And you’re going to walk out of here leaving me alive because you still think you have a chance to rescue Kiro and you won’t leave Viktor to decide Mira’s fate. Lazarus is going to kill Kiro if he hasn’t already, then we’ll take you and Viktor and all his worthless Bratva orphans, and Mira will go back to her life. You’ll just be a sad and hated memory.”

  My heart pounds. The text comes in. Viktor. He has the address. I am full of rage—he’s right. I feel Kiro in my heart. I love him. I know he’s still alive—he has to be. And I’ll protect him, and I’ll protect Mira, too.

  The old man’s eyes sparkle. “You can’t win this war. You’ll go down just like your daddy.”

  I stand and slip my phone in my pocket. “What do I have?”

  Aldo narrows his eyes. He doesn’t get the question.

  “You asked me what you have. Your fucking ledger comparison and all that. Well, I’ll tell you what I have. I have love, and I have honor. I have a family I’ll die for right on this fucking spot.”

  He looks up at me with his poker face, and I don’t give a fuck what he’s hiding. Because for the first time since that bloody night, he seems small.

  I turn and walk out.

  Viktor drives like a maniac back out to the Stonybrook place.

  “You got out alive, brat,” he says. It’s really all there is to say. We’re both freaked about Kiro.

  We have a name and an address for Kiro’s adoptive family. The Knutson family in Glenpines Grove, a couple of hours northwest. Soybean and river country, that’s where the family that got Kiro lives. Being that Kiro is twenty, it’s unlikely he’s living there, but you never know.

  If he’s there, he could be dead.

  Because of me. My fucking sentimentality. Wanting my family.

  The plan is to grab every piece of weaponry we have and get the hell out there and hope Bloody Lazarus doesn’t have too much of a head start.

  We argue about whether to bring Mira along. Viktor wants her stowed in the house, but it’s too dangerous there.

  “She is trouble, brat.”

  “She comes.” I try to ignore old Nikolla’s words ringing in my head—you put sentiment above strategy.

  “You think because she called out for you, that she loves you? That she’s yours? That there is something between you?”

  I watch the strip malls blur by.

  “She was on drugs,” Viktor says. “Drugged out of her mind. She would’ve called for the devil himself if she thought it would keep her finger attached.”

  “How about you concentrate on getting us there.”

  “You kidnapped her and fucked her face. You think she would go anywhere with you willingly?”

  I have nothing to say to that. She has every reason to hate me, but she’s mine. The thought doesn’t even surprise me. She’s mine. She always was. And I’ll probably do some more things she hates today, but she’ll still be mine.

  “We found something else interesting. Look in the back seat. Look at this file that I got from Vega.”

  I twist around and grab the manila file folder. Official seal. State of Illinois Medical Examiner’s office. The tab says “Nikolla, Vanessa.” Mira’s mother. “What the hell?” I open it up, and I see. It’s from the coroner.

  “Mira’s mother. What does this have to do with Kiro?”

  “It has nothing to do with Kiro,” Viktor says. “Look inside. They say her mother died of cancer, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, they say that. Mira was there.” I page through. It’s medical stuff. “Cause of death…what is this?” It says homicide.

  “Pharmaceutical toxin. Untraceable. Interesting, no? That was the original report. She didn’t die of cancer—she was murdered. Aldo Nikolla must’ve paid a small fortune to get her illness reported as cancer. To make this the official story. The original coroner, you see his report there. Archie Vega was holding it for blackmail. His box full of secrets. Konstantin will enjoy this box.”

  “Aldo Nikolla killed his wife? Mira’s mother?”

  Viktor takes a corner without slowing down. “Mira will not like it, I think.”

  I close the folder. “We can’t show her. It’s too much. We’ll hold onto it.”

  “Why not show her? Think how this hurts the old man.”

  “Showing her hurts her more than him.” I say. “And it won’t get us Kiro.”

  He eyes me darkly. I eye him back.

  “Do you still feel him alive, brat?” he asks. There’s so much vulnerability in his voice, it kills me.

  “I still feel him alive.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Mira

  I’m lying there in the darkness in the middle of the night, trying to deal with this new information about Dad. I can’t fit this information into my heart any more than I can fit a square peg into a round hole.

  He slaughtered his closest friends! His mentor and Mrs. Dragusha, an innocent mother. Sent away the boys, hunted Aleksio. A little kid!

  And Aleksio went to the restaurant, walking right into the middle of his stronghold. It’s crazy, even with me as a hostage.

  I slide my palm up the side of the bed where he was, up and down. It feels like he was just here, holding me, talking to me. I felt safe and good in his arms. Like coming home.

  Which is crazy, because this shit is everything I’ve ever tried to escape. It’s like I’m being sucked into some sort of enchanted looking glass, but this is not my real life. And things are going to get bloody.

  Aleksio and Viktor are good for their promises—I know it in my bones. Aleksio said he wouldn’t kill Dad, and I know they’ll uphold that promise. But what will Dad do?

  And what will Viktor do? He promised to kill me if Kiro doesn’t turn up alive. If Kiro is dead, Viktor will need to uphold that promise. He’ll need to. And Aleksio will stop him.

  Either way, I have to get out of here.

  I can’t go back to the Advocacy Center. It will be too easy to poke holes in the fake international shopping Mira persona. That persona works only if nobody’s kicking the tires. As long as Dad has the kind of power that he has, I’ll always be in danger. The only weak link he has.

  I’ve decided to flee to an old high school friend’s family cabin near the Mississippi. We used to sneak out there for the weekend. I know where the key is hidden. Nobody would find me. Not Aleksio, not Viktor, not Dad’s people.

  I go back to the door and put my ear to the wood. I find myself hoping that the brothers unite and fulfill the prophecy. Take back the Black Lion clan. Aleksio on the throne.

  My mind goes to Aleksio on the couch in the hotel room and the way he focused down at me. The way he handled me. The hot brutality of it.

  Stop it! I rub my aching head. I can’t let myself be sucked into this mafia drama. I have to
save myself.

  They come back in a frenzy a while later. It’s the sound of trouble. Relief whooshes out of me when Aleksio walks back in.

  He reaches out, as if to touch my cheek. “Don’t worry, dear old Dad’s still breathing. We have a lead on Kiro.”

  My belly turns. “Dad was holding back? No…”

  “We didn’t get the address from your dad directly,” he says. “He had an idea where we could look.”

  “In other words, he withheld information.”

  “Don’t take it…”

  “Personally? That Dad played chicken with me? Tell me that’s not what you were about to say. I mean, don’t take it personally that Viktor almost sawed off my finger, and that was a gamble Dad was willing to take?” I wrap my arms around myself. “We’re supposed to have each other’s backs.”

  “He didn’t think we’d really do it.”

  “Is that supposed to be consolation?”

  “It’s a shitty consolation.” Aleksio goes to the dresser and throws me a white shirt and an orange skirt with pink flowers. Bright and summery, the opposite of him. There’s nothing more to say. He knows it. I know it.

  Tito comes in and tosses him a holster. “Saddle up, brat,” he says, using the name for him that Viktor often uses. Pronouncing it all Russian-sounding.

  Five minutes later, we’re in the car. It’s around two in the morning, judging from the dashboard clock.

  I’m in the dark back seat with Aleksio. Tito’s riding shotgun, and Viktor drives. His face is really beaten up, one eye so swollen I’m sure he can’t see through it. He pulls out his flask and takes a swig of vodka.

  I make sure my seatbelt is snug. There’s only the waist kind, unfortunately. It’s an old Jaguar, and you can tell it’s been modified. Probably bulletproof. We’re in a convoy of guys, a Hummer up ahead, a van behind.

  Aleksio’s focused on his phone. In his own world. Looking for his brother all this time and now we’re nearing the moment of truth. He’s doing a lot of mindless scrolling. Now and then he looks out the window. He’s worried. They seem to think Lazarus might be ahead of them.