Mia: A Standalone Romantic Suspense: A Luke Fletcher and V Mafia Crossover Novel (Luke Fletcher Series Book 4)

by Karice Bolton

  But the world wasn’t black and white.

  I didn’t think Drake was my knight in shining armor.

  I only thought he was at the right place, at the right time, and had a good heart.

  I also knew firsthand that not all men who pulled the trigger were bad men.

  My brother wasn’t a bad man.

  I looked at the phone again and debated what to do.

  So I did nothing and turned on the television.

  It wasn’t until the knocking on my door told me my choice didn’t sit well with Drake, and I realized neither of us knew what we were up against.

  I wasn’t into playing games, but I wasn’t into being pushed around.

  We had a date.

  He broke it.

  We had a date before I realized what he did for a living.

  He broke it before I knew. Maybe it was a gift.

  Another knock sounded at the door.

  I obviously needed to set him straight.

  Making my way to the door, I gave myself a pep talk and vowed not to let him into my apartment or my heart.

  I looked through the peephole and sucked in a breath when I saw Ginger staring back at me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Drake

  “So you’re telling me, he filled in for you?” Jax was staring at my brother and pointing to me.

  “That’s precisely what I’m saying,” Devin responded, barely glancing at Jax.

  “Do you know how this looks?” Jax demanded.

  “I tell our guy that you’re coming and someone else shows up?” Jax anchored both arms on the desk and leaned forward. “That’s not how Dad conducted business, and it’s not how we do either.”

  “I told you I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

  I walked behind my brother’s desk and looked out the window. Those two could hash it out. Neither of us told Jax what truly kept him from showing up for his duties.

  All I could think about was how Mia never returned my texts.

  None of them.

  And it had been four days.

  I wasn’t used to being ignored.

  I held in a sigh and gritted my teeth.

  Not only was Devin hell-bent on screwing up his own life, but he was now tampering with mine.

  Truthfully, it was probably for the best. Mia didn’t deserve to get mixed up with me or anything within a ten-mile radius of my family.

  “What do you think?” Jax asked, standing next to me and staring at the same view.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “Have you not heard a damn thing I said?” Jax was one click away from a shout.

  “I got tired of the arguing.”

  “Is there anyone invested in our business besides me?” Jax questioned, taking a step closer to the window.

  “Don’t give me that shit.” I narrowed my eyes. “Forget the martyrdom and repeat what you said.”

  “I think Devin should be on temporary probation until he clears his head.”

  The door slammed shut behind us.

  Devin had left the room.

  “I don’t think that’s going to do a damn thing,” I told Jax. “He made a mistake. I covered for him. It’s no big deal. Now isn’t the time to cause a family rift. We’re all we have.”

  “That’s not saying much,” Jax muttered, but I knew he was joking.

  There was one thing in all of our lives that came before ourselves, and that was one another. The bond had only grown since my sister’s murder, and we were getting closer to making those who killed her pay.

  “Devin will pull through. Cynthia was the last connection he had to our sister. I don’t think he ever expected that relationship to end. Give him time. And send me on the rest of his calls until he’s a little more stable.”

  Jax’s jaw tensed and his gaze darkened. He was obviously thinking about our sister, Vera. She was hardly ever a memory away from any of us.

  “Well, I’d wanted to send you on Sunday anyway, but you were busy.” His brow arched. “Were you able to get done what you needed?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not worth my time.” As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them. Mia was most definitely worth the time, but she deserved more than I could give her, and because of that, I vowed to stay away, not press for more attention. I sent two texts on Sunday, and when she returned neither of them, I stopped. For once, I was the gentleman.

  “Well, I think there’s some dick snooping around where he doesn’t belong.” Jax took a seat at his desk and flipped open his laptop. “Getting too close for comfort.”

  “How do you figure?” I walked over to the bar in my brother’s office and poured a glass of water, even though something harder was calling me.

  “Some guy named Luke Fletcher has been getting awfully close to some of our connections.”

  “Fletcher?” My brow arched in surprise.

  “You’ve heard of him?”

  “Who hasn’t?” I scoffed and nodded.

  My brother wasn’t amused and was waiting for a deeper explanation.

  “He owns one of the few firms with a repeat clientele ranging from politicians to celebrities,” I explained before taking a sip of water and glancing over my brother’s shoulders, my eyes settling on the skyline of the city. “He’s hired to solve problems. He’s never been nabbed, but from what I’ve heard, he’s not always on the right side of the law. His family has ties to the Bureau so he has tons of connections, but what’s worse is the amount of money and resources he’s amassed in a rather short amount of time.”

  “Great. Then we need to take care of him sooner than later. If he’s becoming a pest now, the problem will only grow.”

  I leaned against the bar. “This guy is a celebrity in his own right. If something happens to him, people will notice. The wrong people,” I warned.

  “Accidents happen,” my brother said coldly.

  “They happen all the time in our line of work, but unless there’s a good reason to have the feds looking at us through a microscope—”

  “He’s protecting Sokolov.”

  My blood chilled.

  The man who killed our sister.

  “I guess that leaves us no choice. We’ll have to go through Mr. Fletcher to get to him.” I nodded. “We’ll do what we need to do.”

  “Dad would expect nothing less,” Jax said softly.

  I nodded in agreement.

  The Sokolovs took away Vera from our family, and it killed my father. He died from a stroke fewer than six months after her death.

  My mother was desperately clinging to hope that ending the Sokolovs would make her life better.

  I took a deep breath, but it didn’t calm me down. Nothing would until I could make the men pay who cared about nothing more than protecting their assets over my sister’s life.

  Life meant nothing to the Sokolovs.

  “So you understand my reasoning? It’s worth the risk, I’d say.” Jax’s blue eyes darkened.

  “Of course,” I agreed, sliding my empty glass across the bar. “We’ll just make sure there are no mistakes.”

  Jax nodded. “And no second chances.”

  “Does he have family?” I wondered aloud, taking a step toward the door.

  The room was filling up with quiet tension that usually erupted into a mess if one of us didn’t escape—too many emotions and anger for any one space.

  “Some, but the most important women in his life seem to be his fiancée and sister.” My brother typed something on his laptop. “This guy thinks he’s a real hotshot, but we’ll show him how it’s really done.”

  “Always do. But we need to take it slow.” I didn’t want to ask, but since we were on the topic of family . . . “Have you seen Mom lately?”

  Jax brought his gaze to mine. A flash of guilt dashed through his eyes as he sat back in his chair.

  “No. Every weekend, I tell myself I’m going to make the short drive, and I don’t.” He bit his lip and dropped his gaze. “You?”
>
  I shook my head but realized he wouldn’t see it.

  “No. I need to get out there.”

  “It’s hard, man. On one hand, she wants us to drop everything,” my brother began.

  “But on the other, she prays every night for her husband’s and daughter’s deaths to be avenged,” I finished. “She’s old school.”

  “Aren’t we all?” He sighed. “Not to mention, she’d be pissed if the family business didn’t continue on to her grandchildren.” He grinned wickedly.

  “And she will most certainly remind us how none of us are bringing her any.” I shook my head.

  Our family was full of contradictions and twisted realities unlike any other family. I was sure no one was as screwed up as we were.

  “She just likes to humble herself in front of our bishop and pretend she has no idea what’s going on.” I laughed, thinking about how sweet and innocent my mom looked on the outside.

  Little did they know that she was one of the forces behind Wolf Industries. She knew cyber hacking was going to change the world before the world saw it coming. She identified a need and an opening for her family to move right in and become a major player in making the world go ‘round. It didn’t hurt that our family already had decades of connections, thanks to Grandpa Volkov.

  “I’ll try to get out there in the next week,” Jax offered, bringing his stare back to mine.

  “I’ll do the same. Maybe we’ll make it a family affair, wrangle Blake into town, get Devin there . . .”

  “Mom would think her year was made if we could do that.” A wry grin spread on his lips.

  I nodded and opened the door when a thought popped into my head about Devin. I turned back around and glanced at my brother.

  “Do you know what Bettys are?” I asked.

  “I thought it was hot chicks or something.” Jax wiggled his dark brows and laughed.

  “So you’re as out of it as I am.” I waved and walked out of his office and through the lobby, but with every step away from my brother, I felt a tightness in my chest.

  When would it ever end?

  By the time I got to the elevator, I was filled with the need to see Mia. I wasn’t going to waste another minute waiting for her to respond. I was done being a gentleman. I needed to feel her softness in my arms to remind me that the harsh world I lived in wasn’t the only way to exist.

  Before I even realized it, I was knocking on her door and waiting, but she never answered, and I was met with silence. I glanced down the hallway and sucked in a deep breath. I should just turn around and step back onto the elevator.

  Try again tomorrow.

  Or never try again at all.

  Instead, I slid my metal cash clip between the door and lock and popped the door open.

  The place had been cleared out, but a single red rose remained.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mia

  I thought I could handle a few weeks away from my canvas, but I was very, very wrong. After Ginger sprang a surprise visit and showed me several write-ups on my work, I couldn’t sit still. More shows were getting scheduled, and if I chose to let myself fall into this East Coast world, my life was about to turn into a whirlwind of dreams.

  Ginger never mentioned Drake, and neither did I, but there was a silent warning as she discussed what a small scene the art world was and how everyone should choose very carefully who they aligned themselves with.

  The message was loud and clear. Stay away from Drake Volkov.

  The distant attraction in my mind conjured all sorts of scenarios—safe scenarios, because I knew I’d never act on them. He was a forbidden fruit that I knew better than to touch.

  Yet the problem with Drake was that merely thinking of him bombarded me with feelings I didn’t know what to do with. So I needed to distract myself, and as more days passed, forgetting about him was easier and easier to do, especially since I found a new place to call home.

  I could now glance around my apartment and not be reminded of him and his kindness. Not to mention, I swore the guy had some magical cologne that lingered on everything he touched and made me wish I could curl into him like that one night.

  Ugh. Maybe spending just one night with him wouldn’t be all bad. I’d get him out of my system. But that line of thinking was the very issue at hand with Drake. Something about him seeped deep into my bones and made me daydream as if I were in high school again. I didn’t have time for it or him, which was why being in this new place was perfect.

  My new rental was a one-bedroom apartment, and I turned the family room into a studio space. Like the last one, this one was furnished, and all I had to do was pack my suitcases at the old place, drop them off at the new place, and visit an art store.

  I had to confess it was also nice not living on the same street that had left more scars than I’d ever guessed. It had been days since that night, and I was still a bundle of nerves. I triple-checked the lock on the door, latched down a window that only Spider-Man could scale, and stared at the ceiling until sleep finally found me in the early morning hours.

  I took a step back from my four-by-four canvas and wiped my hands on my overalls, red streaming down my front as I sighed, unsatisfied with what stood in front of me.

  The piece looked dark and ominous. I set out to capture the vibrancy of the city, and the final result seemed to go back to that night, the murky darkness and isolation.

  The hatred I felt for that man who took away my sense of peace was enough to sic my brother on him. But I certainly wouldn’t ask my brother for help now when I’d complained all the other times he tossed it my way. And I had no idea what the guy’s name was or where to even begin.

  Besides, I hadn’t made it this far in life by spinning my wheels on the bad stuff.

  I let out a frustrated grunt. I hated how this man was tainting my time here. This was my moment. I even had agents calling me nonstop with promises of more gallery openings and more promotional opportunities than I’d ever dreamed of.

  I narrowed my eyes at the painting. I wanted to bring life to this piece. I needed to take control of that night. I walked over to my duffle bag, where I’d stuffed the mask from the masquerade ball, and sat it on the counter while I looked for the gold sequin dress I’d worn.

  The dress had cost a small fortune, but I didn’t care. I quickly found the scissors in one of the bags from the art store and began snipping at the fabric. Gold sequins fell to the floor in a hypnotic rhythm. It was liberating as the fabric pulled and tugged between my fingers.

  When there was nothing but shreds of fabric and piles of sequins, I fished out some of my archival glue and began squeezing a dot on each piece of gold. I placed the sequins over the canvas. Hours passed by, and I didn’t even care.

  It wasn’t until I ran out of sequins and glue that I felt the piece was completely finished. I went to the kitchen and stared at the painting, where a gold mask had taken over the red cityscape. Everywhere I moved in the room, it was as if the mask was following me.

  It was done.

  “Bastard,” I whispered, feeling exhaustion slowly make its way into my bones.

  Tonight, I might even be able to fall asleep without games.

  Letting my hands get dirty again felt good. It was what I needed and cleared my head.

  I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to ten. I definitely wanted to run downstairs to the deli before it closed, and I had no idea when that was. I hadn’t bothered to get any groceries since I knew I was leaving on Friday to go to my brother’s wedding.

  I looked at my colorful outfit in the entry mirror and shrugged to myself. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Reaching for my wallet, I scanned my apartment and pushed away the homesickness. I missed California.

  By the time I reached the deli downstairs, they were cleaning up. The chairs had been stacked, a worker was mopping the floor, and they’d begun putting the food away, but the Open sign was still flashing.

  “Come on in,” the older man behi
nd the counter called as I poked my head inside.

  “Thank you. The night totally slipped away. I’m starving.”

  The man grinned and nodded. “Well, you came to the right place. We usually stay open until midnight, but my son is about to have his first baby.”

  “How exciting.” The place smelled exactly how I imagined a deli to smell, a hint of garlic, some dill pickles, and fresh bread swirling into a delicious combination. I picked the perfect place to live.

  “It is, but since most of the family works here, the only way we can all enjoy the new addition is to shut the place down and wait at the hospital.” He chuckled. “Dessert is on the house.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” I said, shaking my head.

  “I insist. We make the best cheesecake in the city. Besides, there is only one slice left, and I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

  Immediately, my mind drifted to Drake and the cheesecake we enjoyed. That man was hard to shake.

  “I’d like a turkey pastrami on rye with potato salad, please.” I watched the man craft my sandwich like it was a work of art. He handed me the paper sack with the sandwich and cheesecake inside in return for a twenty, and I was on my way.

  The cool breeze swept over my body as I made my way toward the lobby of my building. Well, it wasn’t exactly a lobby, more of a mailroom with two elevators. I hopped on the carriage and opened the bag, smelling the goodness inside. I was starving.

  I was also wondering about Drake.

  I groaned just as the doors opened and I got off the elevator. I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, but being in the middle of a big city with absolutely no one to call wasn’t quite as great as I thought it would be.

  In fact, I realized that the most contact I’d had with the outside world was with the deli owner, the clerks at the art store, and the cab driver who drove me to my new apartment.

  I opened my door and sat the bag on the counter while I washed my hands. I couldn’t believe how easily my mind slipped to Drake. What was he doing tonight? Attending another work meeting? Hanging out with friends at a favorite bar?