Finally, he stopped, lifted his head and gave her a cold look. A look meant to tell her everything he couldn’t and wouldn’t say.
“Coward,” she accused him scathingly. “You don’t want to say it because then you have to own it. You’re hiding behind your lack of voice. If you want to turn me into a mindless fixture, then tell me the rules. Stop making it seem like you care about what happens to me and then crush my hopes in the next breath. I’m done with it, and I’m done with you.”
She shoved him hard enough that he moved this time. When she tried to storm past him, he grabbed her arm in a grip so tight it told her she’d scored a point with her cruel words. She’d meant them, though. He was hiding behind his lack of voice, refusing to give her the unvarnished truth while allowing his actions to speak for him. Which was dangerous for a man in his position. He was a killer, and if he wanted his actions to do the talking, they weren’t going to say anything good.
“Give me a phone call and we can talk about my position in your life.”
He released her arm and turned away from her in disgust.
“I’ll be in the garden,” she told him dejectedly.
He allowed her to leave the oppressiveness of their shared rooms. She made her way quickly out to the gardens, which she’d been visiting more and more often during her time at the mansion. It gave her reprieves from her host and his family. Jozef was so intense and they rarely agreed on anything. If they actually somehow made it to the marriage stage of their false relationship, they were likely going to kill each other before they made it to the honeymoon.
Shaun was so distracted as she wandered through the garden, she almost stumbled over Krystoff who was on his hands and knees, half buried in a rose bush. “Mr. Koba!” she exclaimed as she accidentally kicked his rubber boot. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”
He slowly unfolded himself from the bush and looked up at Shaun. She couldn’t see his expression, as the sun was shining in her eyes. He climbed to his feet. “Nonsense, I was half-hidden. You couldn’t have known I’d be down here.”
The moment felt awkward for Shaun. This was the man who held her life in his hands, the man who was directing her to marry his nephew. Sometimes he seemed like the powerhouse he was; the head of a powerful crime family. He could freeze a person with a single glance. His commands were followed to the letter by a household used to following where this man led. Yet, in moments like this, he seemed human. If they’d been in Canada, he might be a retiree, puttering around his garden, building a hobby to keep himself occupied in his retirement.
Shaun didn’t fool herself for one moment that Krystoff Koba might be considered a harmless retiree. “Do you work out here often? I thought you had gardeners,” she ventured, trying to dispel some of the awkwardness.
He smiled and pulled his gloves off, slapping them against his work pants and sending up small puffs of dust. “Indeed, we do. But I enjoy the quiet solitude,” he said agreeably. “I try to come out here as often as I can. Please, will you sit with me?”
He nodded toward a stone bench nestled amidst the bushes. Shaun allowed him to take her arm and lead her to the bench. He helped her sit, like an old-fashioned suitor, before taking his place at her side. Together they sat in companionable silence, gazing out across one of the most beautiful gardens Shaun had ever experienced. It was lush and green with splashes of colour from the strategically placed rose bushes. Most were red, but some were white and pink.
“How’s your finger?” she asked, glancing at him.
He held his hand up to show her and she took it, setting it in her lap to examine the bandage. He’d transitioned from her care to his regular physician. The bandage was clean and Krystoff couldn’t be in too much pain or he wouldn’t be in the garden. She let his hand go, satisfied he was healing.
It seemed incongruous but oddly comforting to sit with Krystoff. He was such a formidable character. She could easily imagine his hands soaked in the blood of his enemies, then going out to his garden to meditate on the miracle of life. The dichotomy of violence and peace was strangely appealing to Shaun.
“The operating room is my garden,” she murmured. When Krystoff glanced at her, she added, “I find peace when my hands are buried in someone else’s body. The blood flowing beneath my fingertips, the power of their life force at my mercy. The knowledge that I am the only person in the world who can fix them in that moment. I choose whether they live or die. It’s intoxicating.”
Shaun had never spoken that way before, had barely allowed herself to have the thought, yet sitting next to Krystoff, she felt that the mafia world finally made a strange sort of sense to her. There were studies done that suggested surgeons were among the top ten most psychopathic professions. It took a certain amount of ego and lack of fear to dig around in someone else’s body. Doctors played god with their patients, and while Shaun didn’t think she was a psychopath, she was no different than the average surgeon. She got a rush from the power of preserving life.
“There is happiness to be found in the release of that power, too,” Krystoff said quietly. “Of deciding when to stop and find a new path.”
Shaun looked at him sharply. Was he talking about his situation or Shaun’s? Perhaps he was telling her that she could find equal happiness in giving up her chosen profession to live under the umbrella of the Koba family, married to his vicious nephew.
“I don’t agree,” she replied flatly. “When you spend a lifetime working toward one shining goal, a new path feels like misery.”
“Misery is better than death.”
Shaun sighed her annoyance. Krystoff sounded just like his nephew. They were all telling her to settle down, to forget her old life, but how did she forget the career she’d spent their entire life driving toward and the loving family that had supported her every step of the way?
“I don’t think so,” Shaun disagreed. When Krystoff looked up sharply, she was quick to add. “Don’t worry, I don’t have a death wish. I’m just getting sick of being told by this family that my life is being decided for me and it would be best to just settle down and forget my past life. You wouldn’t be saying any of this if I was a man.”
Her words were bold, and she briefly wanted to recall them. What was she doing mouthing off to a guy who called entire countries allies? The man who made massive life-altering decisions as though he was choosing a tie. He could easily decide she was too much of a pain in the ass to keep around and order her killed and buried under one of his rose bushes.
Instead, he chuckled and said just as bluntly, “If you were a man, you would be dead.”
His words sent a chill through Shaun. He was right. The ease in which Jozef put a bullet in Danilo’s head told her that the Kobas had no problem killing innocent men. She was very lucky that she was not only a woman, but a woman Jozef found attractive. It was likely the only thing that had saved her life.
Krystoff reached for her hand and squeezed. “You are part of the family now; you have nothing to worry about from us.” He turned on the bench to study her, his sharp blue eyes seeing far more than Shaun was comfortable with. “You helped my grandson when he broke his arm. This is not something I will forget.”
Shaun felt the significance of the moment. The Godfather of Prague was basically telling her he owed her one. Since she didn’t think she could ask him to forget the whole marriage plan and send her home, she wasn’t sure what his protection would mean for her.
“I didn’t do anything but diagnose an easy break. How is he doing? I haven’t spoken to Leeza since yesterday.”
“He was just out here skipping around the stone path. He’s fine,” Krystoff assured her. “He took a rougher tumble than usual, and it scared him. He’ll be back to normal once the cast is off.”
Shaun was relieved that the injury was as minor as she’d thought. She imagined there would be hell to pay if any member of the Koba family came to harm. She wondered if their fierce loyalty would one day extend to her. Maybe it already
did.
Krystoff squeezed her hand again and stood. He looked down at her, his eyes squinting against the sunlight. “One day you will find your normal again. It might seem difficult now, but you are resilient.”
He reached behind the bench and, using the gardening shears he pulled from his baggy pocket, cut a red rose. He held it to his nose for a few seconds, enjoying the simple pleasure of a fragrant flower. Then he handed it to Shaun and walked away.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The moment Shaun walked out of their suite, Jozef sent his fist flying into the nearest wall. Luckily it wasn’t one of the stone walls. A thought that didn’t occur to him as his hand sank through the plaster, sending dust flying in the air. He growled and yanked his fist out.
He’d never been so emotional that he couldn’t hang on to his temper. His uncle had raised him to make calm, cool and logical decisions so he could always do what was best for the family. Emotion was a liability and therefore stamped out of him at a young age.
So why couldn’t he control himself around one particular woman? Women were for fucking, not fucking with his head. Shaun made him feel out of control. Yet he couldn’t consider a life where she was dead, especially by his own hand. He had no choice but to keep trying with her.
He was starting to realize his lack of control with her wasn’t his only dilemma. Her inability to settle down and accept her new position was problematic. Jozef had been naive in his belief that bringing her home and forcing her to accept her place at his side was going to work. He’d yet to meet a woman who wasn’t compliant with him, but then again, he’d never really thought about women at all, except in fantasy when he was jerking off.
Maybe he did have prejudices toward the weaker sex. Maybe he shouldn’t think of them as the weaker sex. Shaun sure as shit wasn’t weak. She was the strongest woman he knew. Not physically, but mentally, she won every skirmish they had, persuading Jozef to do things that were out of character for him.
Maybe Shaun was right. Maybe they shouldn’t be together. Jozef knew nothing about how to treat a woman of Shaun’s caliber. She was no whore, but her responses in bed were utterly intoxicating. Addictive. For that reason alone, he didn’t want to let her go. But aside from sex, there was so much more to her. She had dignity, a sense of responsibility, she had solid morals. She made Jozef feel deficient in every way. Yet he liked it. He liked the challenge she presented.
He frowned. Was he a closet masochist?
No, definitely not. He didn’t enjoy pain himself, just enjoyed inflicting it. He leaned more toward sadist, but he had no desire to hurt those who didn’t deserve it. Was selective sadism a thing? Yeah, he was a selective sadist. For the right kind of guy, he was willing to pull out his tools and set to work.
Jozef decided that brooding, pacing and scowling at the hole he'd put in the wall wasn’t getting him anywhere. He needed to find Shaun and try to talk through some of their issues. It seemed like the sort of mature thing Shaun would do. Jozef would try his best to play by her rules without losing his temper. He would also find a servant to patch the hole in the wall, so Shaun didn’t find out he'd already lost his temper before going to find her.
He jerked the door to his suite open and was surprised to find Havel on the other side, his fist raised to knock on the door. The expression of surprise on Havel’s face was enough to draw a slight smirk from Jozef.
Jozef raised a brow in greeting and waved his hand inside, indicating Havel should come in. Havel dropped his hand and walked past Jozef, heading straight to the mini bar. “Got some news.” He picked up a bottle of Jozef’s Scotch and raised an eyebrow.
Jozef thought about it and shook his head. It was common for the two men to meet in the afternoons to discuss business and security. They usually had a few drinks while they talked, but today Jozef couldn’t get the image of Shaun out of his head. If he was going to find her after his meeting with Havel, then he should do it with a clear head. She hadn’t liked it when he took those lines of coke; her expression clearly shocked and disapproving before she’d run off to the restroom. Jozef didn’t usually care what people thought of him and his habits, but for some reason the look on her face, the disappointment, was enough to make him rethink a few life choices that had seemed so automatic before.
Havel poured himself a generous glass of Scotch, replaced the lid on the bottle and settled his large frame on the couch. Jozef joined him, sitting in the chair next to Havel.
Jozef opened the conversation. What news?
Havel took a long swallow of his drink and licked his lips appreciatively before setting it down on the table in front of him. He leaned back in his seat and crossed an ankle over his knee. He looked relaxed, as though the jobs of security specialist for the Koba family and Jozef’s second-in-command were a breeze. Jozef knew better. He knew how seriously Havel took his position.
Havel had been a rescue from another organization that had erroneously fingered him as a traitor. They’d beaten him to within an inch of his life and left him to die. Havel was stronger than death, though, and had made it out of the situation. Once he’d healed, he’d gone to the Koba family in retaliation and handed them their competitors on a silver platter. Jozef had been fourteen at the time and Krystoff had appointed Havel as his protector and mentor.
“Vasiliy wants a meeting with Krystoff. He says he has information that will explain his motives for kidnapping your uncle.”
What do you think of this development? Jozef asked his second-in-command. Part of their job was keeping Krystoff safe at all times. While Krystoff was head of the family, he made no real decisions without Jozef’s backing, since Jozef would provide the skill and muscle.
“I think it’s bullshit,” Havel announced, taking another sip of his Scotch and leaving a wet ring on the glass table. He never used the coasters, despite Jozef having plenty to go around. “Vasiliy hasn’t shown his face. It’s as though he wants to stay hidden while his men do the work. I would almost say it was his son acting in his name, rather than the old man pulling the strings, but the lad is a complete incompetent. He couldn’t plan his way out of the bottom of a pint glass. And now Vasiliy wants a meeting? I’m tempted to agree to one just so we can finally get him in a room. I want to ask him what the fuck he was thinking. Clearly whatever he was attempting to do when he took Krystoff didn’t pan out, as there were no demands.”
We still don’t know what he wanted with my uncle? Jozef asked, knowing the answer.
“No, we never figured out a motive. It’s like he came out of thin air to poke your family. There’s a lot of history though… with your mother.” Havel paused to see if Jozef would add anything, but he remained silent. Havel continued, “Over the past several years, Vasiliy has lain low and avoided your uncle. It seems strange that he would come out of nowhere to kidnap Krystoff, cut off his finger then allow him to be taken back without resistance.”
Jozef nodded. Everything Havel was saying jived with his impressions of the situation, right down to the ease in which they’d rescued Krystoff. There had been very little security on the property and Jozef would have been surprised if Vasiliy himself was at the house. He’d likely been tucked safely away at one of his vacation estates.
You think they knew we were coming?
Havel nodded. “They had to. Either that, or they’re by far the most incompetent kidnappers I’ve heard of. They let us walk right in unmolested and leave with the only leverage they had. It works with our theory that someone inside our circle was involved. We had Krystoff locked down tight; he should never have been taken while he was visiting Kiev.”
They fell silent for a few minutes as they contemplated the strange and bungled kidnapping. Finally, Jozef signed, I think I take the trophy for worst kidnapper. My victim hates me, is refusing to marry me and is now likely plotting her escape from the rose garden.
Havel looked somewhat taken aback at Jozef’s admission. They didn’t usually talk about their personal lives. Then, they didn’t e
xactly have personal lives, beyond the most recent piece of tail one of them was sampling. Shaun was different, she hovered between personal and business.
“Hate to say it, buddy,” Havel started, “But you should’ve – ”
Jozef held up a hand, stopping the other man from continuing. Don’t say it. I don’t want to make an enemy of my best friend.
Havel nodded slowly, digesting the implications of what Jozef was saying. He was telling his second-in-command that Shaun was more to him than just his kidnapping victim, or another piece of tail. She was his future wife. She was someone he was rapidly coming to care for.
“Then I won’t say what I think. Instead, I will say this.” He looked at Jozef seriously. “Classy bitches, like the one you have, are high fucking maintenance. And yours is worse than the usual. She has ethics. Prepare to spend your life grovelling, my friend, because every time you fuck up, she’ll expect you on your knees. And I have no doubt you’re going to fuck up a lot.”
Jozef reached over to slap Havel in the side of the head, but Havel dodged him, picking up his glass and downing the rest of his scotch.
When Havel was looking at him again, Jozef signed, one day you’ll find a woman who fucks with your head and I will take pleasure in your misery.
Instead of laughing and giving a snappy comeback, Havel’s face fell into serious lines and his thoughts wandered to somewhere else. He pushed himself off the couch and made his way to the door, only speaking as he was about to leave.
“If you love her, make sure you do everything in your power to keep her. Don’t fuck it up.” He left, closing the door behind him and locking it. He never left the family’s security up to chance.
Jozef was stunned by Havel’s parting words and not just because they were downright romantic, but because they were spoken by one of the toughest, most staunch bachelors Jozef knew. It was Havel’s position that Shaun should’ve been killed in the basement before ever getting to know any of them. It seemed strange that now Havel was advising Jozef to keep her. Had Havel loved and lost? And when had it happened? Havel had been with the family for decades, since Jozef was a teenager. Jozef didn’t remember any point at which a woman featured in the older man’s life.
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