Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)

by Nancy Haviland

  He enjoyed Vasily’s amusement for a moment before the buzz of his phone interrupted. His uncle took his out at the same time and they both frowned after reading the text.

  “Fire?” they said at the same time, both nodding.

  “Where?” Maks asked.

  “The dumpster behind the dealership in Garden City.” Alek and his uncle had bought the Mercedes dealership a couple of years ago.

  “Serious?”

  “No. Probably some kids fucking around.”

  Maks’s phone chimed while Alek was talking.

  “Or it could be that goddamn fucker yanking our chains because he’s a gutless prick who’s too afraid to stand before us and deal with his problems like a man.”

  Without needing to be told, they got that Maks’s eloquent reference was to the mole in the Tarasov Bratva. They’d recently learned the disease among them had been stirring shit much longer than they’d initially thought. An NYPD contact of Vincente’s had found out calls about their business dealings had started almost two years ago. The result? Attention. A few minor arms deals were busted. A drive-by was labeled a Tarasov job. An extortion case that failed to gain its legs was also pigeon-holed as theirs.

  The mole was also attacking on a personal level. Rivals and new-found enemies had recently become privy to information that couldn’t have come from anyone who didn’t personally know Alek and those closest to him.

  Vasily’s sigh spoke volumes. “What is it?” he questioned Maks.

  “Coincidentally, my guys just put out a fire in the dumpster behind the shooting range.” Maks and Micha had bought the range a while back, and all the boys enjoyed visiting the tightly run ship. Maks’s fiancé and the other women of their household had also taken a liking to the place.

  “Could be a fluke,” Dmitri suggested.

  “Could be.” Vasily sounded thoughtful. “If not, this would confirm our suspicions about there being more than one thorn in our side. Because the range and dealership aren’t close enough for one man to be able to start two fires simultaneously.”

  “They find something in yours?” Maks asked, reading a follow-up text. “There was an animal in ours. The boys said it smells like BBQ with hair.” His lip curled.

  Alek texted one of the security guards who’d been doing a check inside the building just before the fire was discovered. He received a message from the same guard at the same time.

  “Tom says now that they can get close, they’ve found remains. The four legs sticking out prove they’re not human.”

  “Tell them to follow protocol,” Vasily said, rhyming off the basics. “Contact their avtorityet, no authorities, get a team in to identify what materials were used and, in these cases, what was cooked.”

  Alek and Maks sent off instructions even though their people knew the drill by now. One always called the captain in charge, and one never involved the authorities. Since the organization had forensic people on their payroll—two of which currently worked for the NYPD—when questions came up, they were usually the ones getting that late night phone call.

  A shadow fell across them, and Alek felt his coat settle on his shoulders.

  Vincente Romani, aka the Reaper, waited until Alek slipped his arms into the sleeves before handing over a pair of leather gloves. V’s dark eyes were narrowed, his long black hair hanging past his shoulders.

  “We gotta bounce. Got a call about a dumpster fire at a project in Cambria Heights. Fuckin’ kids need to find better ways to spend their time.”

  Vincente owned a small construction company that his girlfriend, Nika, was slowly taking over and doing a damn fine job of running alongside V’s cousin, Mario.

  “It was him,” Maks muttered, Vincente’s revelation confirming it. Three fires couldn’t be a fluke.

  “Don’t blame bored kids,” Vasily said to V, his tone a combination of apology and anger. “It’s our issue. He, or rather, they, also hit two locations of ours.”

  “And, apparently, our salvage yard in St. Albans,” Gabriel added, coming up on the group.

  Vasily looked away, his jaw rolling. “I don’t want any of you going to the sites personally. Our people will take care of it. Now move on, I won’t give air time to this bastard.”

  Vincente must have agreed because he immediately asked Alek, “Where is she?”

  “Our friend is generously giving his princessa some time to wrap her head around the fact that he’s back in her life.” Maks’s answer came with an arrogance Alek didn’t think he’d have been able to pull off.

  Vincente threw a fortune cookie at him and said to Alek, “You need us, call. The two of them could be completely innocent,” he tacked on, proving he understood the dark suspicions lurking in the back of Alek’s mind. “Don’t let your imagination fuck you too hard. Get the facts first.” He thumped Alek on the shoulder and stepped aside to make way for the boss of the Moretti family.

  Gabriel, like Vincente, was a solid six-five and, despite a beautifully tailored suit and cashmere overcoat, looked more like an NFL linebacker than an organized crime boss. But the new shadows swirling in his eyes gave his position of power away. Alek saw the same murky veil whenever he met his uncle’s stare.

  “Too bad there were so many witnesses—not that you’d have pulled the trigger—but you could have at least scared the competition. Maybe even enough into beating feet without her.” Gabriel’s voice was hushed, but Vasily still heard.

  “Don’t encourage him, son,” came the expected irritated mutter.

  G smirked and seconded Vincente’s offer. “Whatever you need, we’re good for it.” He looked Alek up and down. “Hang on to this positive shit you’re rocking. It’s a good look.”

  “Any of your fires come with a meal?” Vincente asked as he pocketed his phone. “My boys pulled out a half-cooked sheep doused with an accelerant.”

  “There were animals in ours, too. Why sheep?” Alek asked. “A reference to following the herd?”

  “We’ll discuss it later.” Vasily pointed at Gabriel. “Get my daughter in the car and out of the open.”

  G was already moving. “Yes, Dad,” he drawled over his shoulder.

  Vasily motioned for Dmitri to go with the boys as they headed over to join the muscle already surrounding the girls and kids as they filed out of the restaurant.

  “I’ll let you know when I’m online,” Maks said as he, too, left when Sydney, Andrew, and Elli appeared. Maks and Vasily exchanged a look before Maks followed his family into the Hummer. Vasily was talking before Alek could question it.

  “Getting back to your issue; because of the cruel way you chose to end your relationship with Sacha, you’re going to go about this as gently as you can. When you see her, you will treat her with more respect than you do me. You will allow her to dictate every aspect of your first private interaction and those after that. If she is frightened—” he put up a hand for Eva to wait where she was when she would have come over, “—you will back the fuck off. If she is angry, you will bow your goddamn head and accept every heated word she delivers. If she is upset, which is what I’d place my money on because she is Sacha, you will mollify her as best you can without pressure of any kind. Do you hear me, son?”

  Yes. Alek heard loud and clear that his uncle still cared a great deal for the girl who’d captured their hearts the moment she’d entered their lives. Even though it hadn’t been voiced at the time, Alek knew his uncle’s disapproval over what he’d done to Sacha had been fierce.

  “Loud and clear,” he assured.

  “Good. Now, since you’ll be sitting on your hands for the next couple of hours, you can spend them with me. While I say goodnight to my daughter, spend a few minutes thanking the powers that be for this second chance.” He started toward Eva, who was waiting patiently with a not so patient Gabriel at her back. “You have no idea how goddamn lucky you are to have it.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  As Justin used the E-ZPass lane to enter the Midtown Tunnel, Sacha was reli
eved to see only a few cars in front of them under the orange glow that made her squint.

  “Let me know if I’m overstepping here,” Justin said, his next words confirming he was in lawyer mode. “But, if you were to swap the reason you don’t want an infant in Tarasov’s care from him being a cheater to him being an organized crime figure, we’d have a case, and he’d most likely lose any bid for custody.”

  The very thought of publically outing Alekzander in such a way sent the hair on her body into the air. And, again, that something deep inside her rejected the idea. Had she been treated badly during her time with Alekzander and his family, maybe it would have been easier to throw him under the bus. But that hadn’t been the case. She’d been welcomed from day one, made to feel at home. She was sure where she came from had something to do with that. There had been many evenings she’d sat with Vasily and chatted about what was happening in their home country—that was after she’d gotten over her deep-rooted fear of the powerful man.

  No. She couldn’t get Alekzander into trouble with the law simply because he’d stopped loving her and had chosen to move on without telling her first. She should. She should spill every little secret she had, not that there were many. But she never would. Despite everything, he was her daughter’s father.

  Then again, she thought, feeling ill, if it came down to it and she had to choose between keeping Lekzi in her life and Alekzander’s freedom, well, there was no choice. But until then…

  “That would not work because I was never personally aware of anything he or his family did that might have been illegal. For all I know, their intimidating reputation could have been created simply to make themselves feel special.”

  She saw Justin’s head turn her way but didn’t meet the look because then he’d see she was lying through her teeth. He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel.

  “This may sound insensitive, but why didn’t you go back home to your family when things fell apart here?”

  Wishing he could drive faster, she answered honestly. “I am an only child, and, as you know, my parents are gone. But even if I had someone there, at that time, I could not afford to go home.” He frowned in confusion, so she went on, her cheeks heating. “While I was with Alekzander, I did not work, or go back to school as I had planned. When I left Russia, I dropped out of my fourth year of university,” she explained. “But I had every intention of applying to colleges here so I could finish my liberal arts degree. I had planned to go into the field of Human Resources, but, as I said, I did not.” She moved on because she could hear how defensive she was beginning to sound. “Alekzander enjoyed having me at home, and I enjoyed being there for him.”

  Shame coated that last bit, revealing how little she thought of the decision she’d made back then. She should never have given up her independence. She suspected that had much to do with what had happened.

  “So he kept you broke and dependent on him?” Justin questioned as they came out of the tunnel and traveled the relatively empty streets of Queens heading for Sunnyside.

  “No, of course not. He was very generous. I had credit cards and a bank account that I could use freely.”

  Feeling small, she wanted to add that she wasn’t a parasite, but hearing herself, she found she couldn’t. Her and Alekzander’s first real fight had been about her working to save the money she would need to return to school. He’d convinced her it wasn’t something that had to be decided right then and had quieted her protests by saying they’d discuss her education later. It had always been later. And she’d let him get away with discounting her future. Had she not been such a pushover, so eager to please him, would things have been different?

  “I did not use his money after things ended,” she murmured.

  “Why? Any other woman, especially a pregnant one, would have withdrawn a large chunk of cash—especially because as a Tarasov he could certainly afford it—and lived off it until she was back on her feet. Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I did not want his money. I did not want anything from him.” She shifted, grinding her teeth at the warble in her voice. It signified weakness, and that embarrassed her. “Anyway,” she said, sneaking in another common word Americans used regularly. “How could I go home when I did not have enough money to buy an airline ticket, to rent an apartment once I got there, and to live until I found a job? I could not. So I stayed here where it had already become familiar. And Lekzi and I have done fine without him. Our life is simple, but that is all we need.” She might not have two homes and a private jet, but despite having to save most of her earnings, she was providing for her daughter, and she was proud of that.

  When they eventually turned onto her street, she tried not to think about what it would cost her, financially and emotionally, to start over again. Another new city, no friends, no job, no place to live. And it would be so much worse this time because she was dragging her innocent daughter along, making her baby suffer for the sins of her parents…

  The world stilled for a split second before Sacha felt the impact of her reality hit with the force of a punch.

  A group of well-dressed men milled about in front of her apartment building. Two were on the sidewalk speaking with a uniformed NYPD officer while another two stood in front of the main entrance of the three-story walk-up.

  Oh, God. “I told you.” Her whisper was eerily accepting. “He has come for me.”

  FOUR

  Justin reached across the console and clasped her hand as he pulled in behind a Smart car. “Don’t even go there. He couldn’t possibly have learned where you live yet. No one works that fast.”

  They do.

  “This is nothing. Probably some city inspectors cracking down on infractions. Look at the cop. He wouldn’t be standing there shooting the breeze with members of an organized crime family, would he?”

  Yes, he would. If he is one of theirs. Adrenaline pounded through her veins. Justin had to know a family as powerful as Alekzander’s would have allies in all the right places.

  “You should go home,” she murmured, swiftly reorganizing her thoughts as he snorted. There would be no leaving tonight; that much was clear. So, too, was the fact that she was going to have to suffer through one more interaction with Alekzander. Fine. He would show up, see that her apartment reflected the small daycare she ran, and she would let him believe Lekzi was one of her charges. After Sacha told him off and sent him on his way, she would take the baby and run. Simple. One more meeting with him. She could get through that.

  Resigned, she reached for the door handle. “Go. I will call you tomorrow.”

  Justin grabbed her arm. “Get your head on straight, Ms. Urusski. Your attorney has no intention of leaving you here to deal with this on your own.”

  Her heart softened. What Justin didn’t realize was that she was on her own. Seeing these men—who she was convinced were Tarasov associates—with the police officer was proof. No one could help her.

  She gave his hand a squeeze. “It is okay. He will not harm me. I will be all right.”

  “I know you will be because I’ll be standing next to you.”

  She looked at the men and then back at Justin, wanting to strangle him and hug him at the same time. “Listen, I will not have you in my apartment when he arrives. Why would I do that to you? It would cause much more trouble than it is worth. For both of us. He is…possessive of what he considers his.” God, how she remembered that. And if she hadn’t, the aggression that had all but choked her in front of the restaurant had been all the refresher she’d needed. That confused her.

  I don’t know how the hell you came to be here tonight, Sacha, but if you think I’m going to let this opportunity go without taking full advantage, then you’ve forgotten who I am.

  He’d made it sound as if running into her had been something special.

  “It seems Alekzander still thinks of me as one of his toys.” Arrogant, spoiled brat. “I will correct that misconception when he comes, and then this will be over. I
do not need or want an audience for that.”

  “Fine,” Justin muttered after glowering at her for an extended minute. “At least let me come up with you to Steve and Angela’s to get Lekzi. I’ll bring you back down to your place and leave. I swear. But, and this is a go whether you want it or not, I’m calling one of our family lawyers and finding out what your options are.” He pointed at the men. “If this display is your Russian throwing his weight around, you’re going to need that information.”

  “Okay.” She agreed more so he would drop it than for any other reason.

  They got out of the car and approached the four men standing at the end of the walk they needed to travel to get to her front door.

  “Evening,” Justin greeted as they went to pass.

  All she could see were their shoes because she kept her head down. Her vision quivered when an expensive black leather pair stepped into her path. She looked up at a tall man with light eyes and a long, clean-shaven face. Under the bright streetlight, she could see a portion of his left earlobe was missing but long since healed.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Urusski?”

  “Da?” She automatically reverted to Russian when she heard his accent was as thick as hers.

  That warmed his expression slightly, and he did the same. “I am Anton. Mr. Tarasov has asked that you allow us to remain on the perimeter of your home until his nephew has had an opportunity to meet with you.”

  Goosebumps flashed across her clammy skin. As she’d feared. Only it wasn’t Alekzander who’d sent them; it was Vasily. Worse. So much worse. Yes, she and the Pakhan had shared an amiable rapport when she’d dated his nephew, but he was still who he was.

  Her eyes darted to the two windows at street level to the left of the entrance. Her apartment. Blood roared in her ears. Had these men already been here when Angela had taken Lekzi upstairs?