Mafia Enforcer's Sassy Lover (The Karzhov Crime Family Series Book 4)

by Leslie North

  Mafia Enforcer’s Sassy Lover

  The Karzhov Crime Family Series

  Book 4

  By Leslie North

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  Dedications

  I dedicate this book to you, my loyal readers. Thank you for all the lovely e-mails, reviews, and support. Without you, this wouldn't be possible.

  I’d also like to say a special thank you to Leslie’s Lovelies who have had a huge role in making this book – you’re the best! THANK YOU for all your support:

  Irina Temer

  Kerry Deller

  Jessy

  JJ

  Lynda Coker

  Kim Schlack

  MDHarrison

  Robin Otoole

  Tammi

  Melody Campbell Goeken

  Gwen Osborn

  Betty Pehlman

  Lorraine Guidotti

  Joanne Wright

  Janet Paul

  Carolyn Redden

  Tonni Brown

  Patty Wells

  Raenn

  Kelly Johnson

  Wanda Ross

  Contents

  Mafia Enforcer’s Sassy Lover

  Dedications

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 1

  Kostya Molikov exited the penthouse elevator and gave a low whistle under his breath. Nik’s done well for himself!

  Floor to ceiling windows offered a view of the Las Vegas strip and the distant purple mountains that surrounded the desert town. Sleek, white modern furniture accented by chrome and bright splashes of art and sari-covered pillows showed a decorator’s touch.

  Nikolai strode across the black slate flooring towards Kostya. In a black silk shirt, black trousers and black leather loafers, he looked as prosperous as his surroundings. With a grin, he held out his hand. “Kostya, my friend. Come in and have a seat. What can I offer you to drink?”

  “Vodka. What else is there?” Kostya replied. Nik led the way to a built-in bar and gestured for Kostya to take a seat on one of the couches. He was the same age as Kostya—but he carried more weight. With his dark, swarthy features, he looked almost more like a casino owner, Kos decided. Taking the glass Nik held out to him, Kostya tossed the clear liquid back in one swallow. It offered a good, mellow burn—a very good vodka to match all the other luxuries.

  Nik raised his eyebrows and then offered the bottle to Kostya. “That bad a day?”

  Kostya took the bottle and refilled his glass. He settled the bottle on a glass-topped coffee table. This time he sipped the vodka in an effort to appear more civilized. “You could say that.” He rubbed a palm over his jeans. They were his best, but he felt underdressed in nothing more than a gray T-shirt with the Sons of Anarchy logo, jeans and boots.

  Shaking his head, Nik sat down in the opposite chair, his own drink cradled in his hands. “Kos, we’ve known each other since we were children. It’s been almost four years since Talia’s death. I thought you were moving on with your life.” He lifted his glass. “You must be careful, my friend. In our world, weaknesses get men killed.”

  It also gets our women killed, Kos thought. He tossed back his drink and poured a third.

  Even the mention of Talia brought a burn to his stomach and a knot to his throat. He had known Talia for as long as he had known Nik. They had grown up together, had moved from close friends, to closer lovers. There had been a time when the connection they shared, allowed them to complete each other’s sentences, and to speak to each other without saying a word.

  That had ended one summer day. Kostya pushed the memory away.

  He offered Nikolai a grin. “I have moved on. Have you not heard I’ve been spending more time frequenting Zora—the girls there…” He let the words trail and gave another low whistle.

  Nik sipped his vodka and sat back in his chair. The white leather squeaked underneath him. “I haven’t seen you training of late. Are you giving up enforcing for the Bratva?”

  With a shrug, Kostya crossed his legs. “You know I still keep my hand in. I was sparring today, but those boys they train now…I doubt they will ever earn the right to bear the families’ marks on their bodies.”

  Nik gave a laugh. “You sound an old man.”

  “I’m bored.”

  Nikolai raised one eyebrow. “Bored? You?”

  “I need a new challenge.” Kostya eyed his friend and his Pakhan—his boss. If anyone could understand his situation, it would be Nikolai.

  Nikolai put down his drink, steepled his hands for a moment and smiled. “I may have just the thing. Of course you have heard Colorado legalized the growing and selling of marijuana?”

  “The family doesn’t have any holdings there.”

  “Due to some recent events, the Cordoba cartel is looking for muscle to help protect their holdings in that area.” Nik grinned and took up his vodka again. “In fact, Raul Cordoba is looking to move the majority of his growing and distribution system to Colorado, with hopes of expanding beyond the northern border as well.”

  Kos nodded. “Gutsy move. Those Canadian border patrols don’t take kindly to drugs.”

  Nik waved a hand. A gold ring glinted on his little finger. “Whether or not the operation expands that far…who knows. Raul is having difficulties holding at bay some of the other South American cartels. He is looking to partner with us.”

  “You would partner with such dogs?” Kostya asked. He put a sneer into the words and resisted the urge to spit. He shook his head. No Russian Bratva member should ever consider doing business with Mexican drug lords. “You don’t worry that they lack the strength to back up their operations?”

  Nik smiled. “Partner is not the word I would use. I have let it be known the San Moreno Bratva will be moving into the Colorado area. Raul is welcome to work with us…or leave.”

  Kos gave a harsh laugh. “So they do have some intelligence.”

  Nikolai inclined his head. He sipped his vodka and said, “I need someone to oversee the growing side of things. Raul assures me he has plenty of mules to move the merchandise, but the Colorado side of things has been managed by a man I cannot work with. Terrence Barlow. Raul swears Terrence will be heading south. I need someone at that meeting. Someone who can solve problems. Someone with my trust.”

  Kostya huffed a laugh. He drank back his vodka and poured another glass. “So you want to turn me into some gardener?”

  Getting up, Nik strode into another room. He came back with a small packet in his hand and stood next to Kos. “When are things not more complicated than that? What I offer is a change of scenery. Who knows, maybe you’ll discover that underneath all of those tattoos you have a green thumb.”

  Kostya glanced down at his arms. He often wore long-sleeve shirts, but today he had not. Tattoos swirled over his wrists and forearms and disappeared up underneath his short sleeves. More tatt
oos peaked out at the neckline. He laughed and shook his head, “More likely I’ll end up killing the merchandise. It’s what I’m good at.”

  Bitterness had seeped into his voice. Kos heard it. If Nik did as well, he didn’t show any sigh of that. He handed over the packet. Kos glanced at it, seeing a map and an address, “This Terrence—watch yourself with him. The man does not have the highest IQ and stupid and greedy make for a dangerous man. Just go up there and stick around until you think you have competent people to oversee things. Then you can return come back to the dancing girls at Zora.”

  Kostya nodded and stood. He tucked the slim packet into the back pocket of his jeans. “I have always liked the mountains in winter. Perhaps I will take up skiing.”

  Shaking his head, Nik slapped Kos’ arm. “Just watch your back, tahvarisch.”

  “You worry too much.” Kos grinned and picked up the bottle of vodka to take with him.

  Nik frowned. “And you worry too little these days.”

  Still grinning, Kos headed to the door. “That is because I am only looking for a good death. Perhaps I will find it—or it will find me—in the mountains.”

  Chapter 2

  Kostya pulled up in front of the warehouse and checked out its surroundings. A tiny storefront advertized a green pharmacy and behind it the dilapidated warehouse loomed like a shadowy giant. It looked as if it had once been a shipping building. Windows, set high on the sides, had been broken out. The metal building had at one time been painted white with a red border near the roofline, but most of the paint had weathered away. Rust spots covered most of the exterior. So this was the big pot operation? It looked as if the place should have been condemned years ago.

  He parked in the back, in a weed infested lot. Getting out of his Mercedes, he closed the door and glanced around. The few other buildings in this area had also looked vacant. This section of Denver had definitely seen better days.

  Rusting rail tracks stretched out behind the building. In the distance, he could make out the silhouettes of several abandoned rail cars. A battered truck sat tilted to one side in the parking lot. From the charred paint and upholstery it looked as if it had been set on fire at some point.

  The building sat not far from the freeway and the rush of traffic hummed past. Kos turned up the collar of his leather coat and wished he’d worn something warmer. Cold nipped the air. He glanced around and could almost wish himself back in Vegas.

  He headed around the side of the building, stepping carefully and quietly. No need to advertize his arrival, even if this place looked deserted. He had seen no evidence the building was being used for anything other than a shelter for the local homeless. But he knew better than to make assumptions—that had cost him a great deal four years ago.

  Shadows hid the locked door on the side of the building, but the muffled thump of rock told him someone was here. He knocked as per Nik’s instructions. A moment later, a small slot slid open. Light spilled from the narrow crack, and a pair of vibrant violet eyes locked onto him. He blinked. He knew a woman’s eyes when he saw them—slanting and set in a narrow face. He caught a hint of perfume in the night air—something warm and flowery.

  A throaty and very feminine voice asked, “What do you want?”

  To see if your body matches your eyes and that sexy voice. The corner of his mouth lifted but he didn’t voice the thought. He leaned closer and spoke softly. “Kostya Molikov. I’m here to see Terrence and Raul.”

  The violet eyes blinked once. She seemed to be measuring him up, weighing his words. “One moment.”

  The portal snapped shut. Deadbolts clacked open on the opposite side of the door. The heavy metal squeaked as it opened. He shook his head. Lazy to leave a door in such shape, and unnecessary too.

  He waited, arms loose at his side, until the door opened fully. Warmth rushed out of the doorway, but he didn’t need it. The owner of the violet eyes stood framed by the light and she was a sigh to heat any man’s blood. Jet black hair hung loose and long, the tips died a deep purple. A thin, cropped T-shirt showed more skin than it covered, giving glimpses of a flat stomach and vibrant tattoos. Kos let his stare travel down over the very short denim skirt, clinking tights, and black boots with stacked heels. He would put her height as a little above average, but those heels left her tall enough to stare into his eyes.

  A glint of silver from a ring in her belly button drew his stare and left him breathing quicker. She propped a hand on the curve of one hip. “Coming in or did you just stop by to sight see?”

  Kostya stepped inside. The girl—for she looked to be no more than in her early twenties—closed the heavy metal door and locked it again. Hips swinging, she led the way into a larger back room.

  Mouth falling open, Kostya stopped and stared.

  The warehouse opened out into a heated, bright space, filled with wooden tables and container after container of leafy plants. A framework of wires, trellises and plant lights hung overhead. Large fifty-five gallon barrels sat at the end of each long table. It looked as if hoses and small pumps provided water.

  Kostya glanced at the girl. She smiled and cracked a wad of gum with a pop. He let his eyes travel the length of her body once again. She’s gorgeous! A bit unconventional, but there was something to be said for existing outside the box! He had seen more beauty in Vegas—and more revealing garments. But this girl offered something else—a challenge. She met his stare, her own just as assessing. She lit a fire low in his belly, but he had no reason to really trust her. A girl like her was probably looking out for the fast buck and the easy target.

  She widened her smile and cocked her hip. “See something you like?”

  Kostya shrugged and lifted a hand. “I was going to ask the same of you. Where are Terrence and Raul?”

  The violet-eyed temptress hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Raul is in the back room. Terrence left this morning on Raul’s jet for Mexico.” She popped her gum again.

  Kostya nodded. That habit with her gum could become irritating.

  The girl tipped her head to the side. “You want to freshen up before I take you to the pool deck?”

  She started walking before he could answer. “What else is hiding behind the decaying walls of this massive building?”

  Glancing over her shoulder, she shot him a smile. “You’d be surprised.”

  Kostya followed her to a small bathroom. He glanced inside but had no need for it. Turning he asked her. “What’s your name?”

  The young woman looked him up and down as if making up her mind what she would answer. With a shrug she said, “Tori. Tori Graystone. And, yeah, I see something I like.”

  Leaning closer, she smiled. “You’re not the usual. I mean, the local bars…it’s all cowboy hats and button down shirt. Anyone ever tell you have the most amazing grey eyes.”

  She put a hand on his collar. Kos took her hand and put it back down by her side. “I don’t screw around in business.”

  She shivered and smiled. “Sweeite, that’s all I do.” She leaned closer. “And you are definitely something I could get used to.”

  Reaching up, she dragged her fingernails over his beard. He hadn’t shaved in several days. “What would this feel like rasping over my skin?”

  He frowned—but the rest of him stirred with interest.

  ***

  She smiled again and reached up to put her fingers into his hair. Her gaze traveled down the length of his body. “Bet you are most definitely equipped to be magnificent in bed, if that package starting to show is anything to go by.”

  Kostya narrowed his eyes. He caught her wrists and pinned them behind her. Shifting, he pushed her against the wall. “I am not a piece of meat.”

  She grinned and licked her bottom lip.

  He pushed her wrists further behind her, which forced her breasts up so they strained against the thin T-shirt. Wanting to make sure he had her attention, he murmured his appreciation of what he was seeing in Russian words guaranteed to get her attention. />
  She wiggled her barely covered ass against the heel of his palms. “Seems you like to play rough. I can do rough.”

  “And would you be so brave if you stood here barefoot and naked?”

  “Sweetie, you seem to think it’s my clothing rockin’ me and I assure you—it’s the other way around.”

  Letting her go, Kostya decided it was time to get things back on a business footing. He did not take up with women connected to his work. He had sworn off that four years ago. Pulling away, he smoothed his leather jacket and adjusted his jeans. “What are you? Raul’s toy?”

  Her smile dropped away. “I run this place. What do you plan to do around here?”

  Kostya smiled. “Sweetie, I’m your new boss.”

  Chapter 3

  Kostya didn’t miss the attitude coming from Miss Hottie. Her smile fell off her face, her eyes narrowed, and she stiffened.

  “You want to come in here and mess things up?”

  He glanced around. “Mess is one word for what needs to be fixed.”

  She poked a finger into his chest. “Sweetie, you might be lookin’ finer than anything I’ve taken home in recent weeks, but that doesn’t give you reason to upset the way I run things.”

  “Why don’t you take me to your boss—sweetie.” He dragged out the last word and gave her a twisted smile.

  Pressing her lips tight, she turned and led the way through the warehouse.

  The air smelled of wet earth, damp wood, and what he assumed was the pungent odor of marijuana. He’d never been much of one for drugs. He’d learned early in life that he liked being in control too much to intentionally put something into his body that would steal that away from him.

  As they walked to the far side of the warehouse, Kostya found himself fixated on the swaying of the hips in front of him. The denim skirt barely covered her ass, but with the tights she wore beneath them, it was hard to see much of anything else. The tights with their bright colors and designs looked like something from decades ago. He preferred women with much more refined tastes—his Talia had…