by Warren, Rie
“Found you by abducting you? Attacking you? Restraining you and beating your ass last night?”
I could see in my periphery he scowled.
I shrugged. “It can’t just be about me, whatever my brothers want to discuss. It has to be bigger than me. I’m not that important.”
He scoffed, leaning against the headboard.
He reached over, his hand finding mine. “And if your brothers fire on us, will you take up arms with them or against them?”
Tears burned behind my eyes.
My brothers had looked out for me as much as they could.
They weren’t always successful.
They didn’t know everything . . . at least I hoped not.
“I won’t see them harmed, because I don’t think they want to harm you.” I blinked rapidly, twining my fingers with Kirill’s. “And I won’t run from you. I already had the chance last night.”
“You could try to destroy me,” he said simply.
“And you could’ve killed me many times over already. Instead, here we are.”
Here we are, on the precipice of the unknown.
He folded one arm across me, drawing me down so I settled against him again.
I must’ve drifted to sleep, because the next thing I knew, he was prodding me awake. “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
I stifled a yawn that transformed to a scowl when I saw his smug expression.
Damn man.
He lounged beside the bed completely dressed in a well-tailored suit. He must not have dozed at all.
Robot.
Except a man with no emotions couldn’t be capable of what he’d done to me so masterfully.
Just two days in his possession, and he’d reduced me to a shrieking mess of hot sensation, relaxing me to the point I’d fallen into a deep untroubled snooze.
“You have a visitor,” he announced.
I sprang up to sitting. “Is Lucky here?”
“Hardly.”
Sasha bustled in toting armfuls of bags with Boris at her side.
She took one glance at me and gave a knowing hum.
I scrambled to pull the sheet more fully over me, mindful of the fact I was still naked having fallen asleep in Kirill’s arms.
“Kirill basically ordered me to go shopping for you.” Sasha dramatically displayed all the bags from earlier in a line on the bed. “He is not a fan of the ragamuffin look and, to be honest, you have been a fashion travesty apart from the work I did on that shirtdress last night.”
“He does like giving orders.”
Kirill growled.
This domineering man had bought clothes for me?
I’d hardly ever had much of my own, nothing brand new, and definitely nothing fashionable.
“About Kirill’s orders . . . I assume that’s why you have such flushed cheeks and you’re naked in his bed without restraints this time?” Sasha asked, all wide-eyed fake innocence.
I plead the fifth.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “I think I guesstimated your sizes pretty well and, since Kirill is your stalker—”
“Alexandra Yuryevna Zolotov.” Kirill turned his formidable scowl on . . . Alexandra?
“Alexandra?” I tried to figure that one out. “Not Sasha?”
“It’s an entire Russian tradition thing. Sasha’s a nickname. Like Jo for Joanna.” The vibrant woman rustled one of the bags. “Sooo, are you going to try these on?”
I couldn’t wait to get into something that might actually fit me, but . . . “Could I have some privacy?”
Kirill’s brows knitted together. “No. I will stay.”
“Bully.” Sasha pointed at him.
He pointed right back. “You, out. Keep Boris with you.”
“See if I ever do you a favor again, zasranec,” Retorting tartly, she whisked from the room, Boris trailing after her.
Kirill firmly shut the door.
“What did she call you?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Well it sounded a lot more vindictive than pee hole dandruff.”
13
Kirill
SASHA CALLED ME AN asshole.
But at least she’d done my bidding, happily too. It might be wise to keep the two women separated henceforth—as a combined force, they’d be even more untrustworthy.
The mountain of packages loomed next to Joanna and, for once, she peered hesitantly at me. “Can I?”
“Well, they’re not for me, are they?”
She tackled the first bag, drawing it into her lap with something close to reverence.
Pulling out a pair of jeans that were tastefully tattered and a plain silky tank top, she breathed out, “Ooooh.”
She continued going through the new purchases, and I watched as her eyes lit up over something so simple as a few items of clothing.
Interesting.
I’d also instructed Sasha to purchase several dresses and was mighty thankful she’d opted for elegant items that were classy and sexy. Not like the glaringly obvious outfits Sasha wore that barely covered her ass.
Jo treated each new purchase as if it were precious. She carefully laid out the dresses and refolded tops and shorts and jeans. She bounced a little when she opened another box of sneakers and even squealed over several pairs of stunning stilettoes.
I’d never witnessed this side of her, and I moved from my station across the room to sit on one side of the bed.
I’d expected her to sneer, maybe refuse the new wardrobe altogether, or insist on having her grungy jeans and T-shirt returned, but her unbridled excitement nearly made me smile.
Every time she moved, the sheet slipped lower and lower, revealing pretty tits and the sweet nipples I’d tasted in my mouth.
The sensation traveling quickly to my groin intensified when Jo came upon a bag that I knew to be from an upscale lingerie boutique.
Peeking inside, her eyes widened even more.
She drew out what looked like an entire month’s supply of dainty—and many decidedly sensual—panties and matching bras.
Lastly, she unwrapped two tissue paper bundles.
That jolt to my groin became a full-fledged erection.
The lingerie was sinfully sheer and wickedly lacy—one a teddy and the other a nightgown.
My eyes almost popped out of my skull, and my voice emerged thick and hoarse. “I did not ask for any of those.”
But I fucking liked them.
Couldn’t wait to see Jo in them.
She held the unimaginably sexy nightie up to her body and struck a seductive pose.
She looked up at me from beneath the fan of her eyelashes. “You didn’t say if I could go tonight or not.”
“Nyet.”
She threw the nightie down and thinned her lips.
“Not dressed in anything like that at least,” I added.
Her gaze shot back to me. “I can go?”
I nodded briskly.
Happiness flew across her face before she tempered her reaction and said simply, “Thank you, Kirill.”
“You’re welcome.”
“No switchblade though.” Coyness crept back into her voice.
“Don’t push your luck.” From a final bag I’d hidden earlier, I tossed her one last . . . gift. “Surprise.”
Jo caught the replacement Red Sox baseball cap, placed it sloppily on her head with a huge grin, then dove into my arms.
She gave me a fierce overwhelming hug.
“I just thought you could use some essentials.” I brusquely pushed her aside after holding her for too long. “You know what happens when I’m around you and you’re naked, so you’d better put some clothes on if you don’t want a repeat of earlier.”
“I’m getting dressed!” Hopping from the bed, she disappeared into the bathroom with an armful of clothes.
* * *
With half an hour to spare before the scheduled meeting with the O’Sullivan brothers, I tracked Yury down.
Before stepping into the club�
��s secure offices, I gave Jo one last warning glance.
The woman adopted a somber expression although she’d been smiling almost nonstop since receiving all her new clothes. Thankfully, she’d dressed appropriately for the occasion in dark jeans and a dark shirt.
Nothing sexy or flashy that might distract me from the night’s mission.
I couldn’t afford anything less than keeping a cool head about her despite everything that had transpired between us recently.
I still had second and third misgivings about her request to come along, especially as that request came after she’d so thoroughly given me head. Most women weren’t above taking advantage, and sex was the weaker gender’s best weapon.
I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake.
I remained suspicious of her. Her family. Of every-fucking-thing.
But I’d given her my word, and my word was my honor.
Smoking a cigar and nursing a glass of vodka, Yury nodded at me as Jo and I approached.
He gave Jo only the most cursory glance.
“I am bringing Joanna with us tonight,” I informed him.
His bushy brows scrunched together, his thick lips flattening in an unpleasant line. “Why would you do this?”
“Showing her brothers that she is unharmed will work to our advantage.”
She’d said she thought there was a bigger reason—besides her—behind her brothers’ suggestion to meet. She claimed she wasn’t important enough for such attention.
But she was.
Important to me.
Not enough to jeopardize the Bratva or bring the empire down on its knees, however.
“Bringing her harmed might be even better.” Yury’s throaty voice game from deep in his chest.
Jo moved slightly behind me.
At least she was learning her place.
“I don’t think her brothers would see it that way.” I met my papa’s gaze unflinchingly.
“She may go.” He gave his reluctant approval. “But she comes back.”
“Make no mistake. I am keeping her. For now.”
And simply keeping her for now was not enough.
There needed to be a better reason to keep her alive, and I hoped to hell her brothers offered a damn good incentive tonight.
I also hoped Jo hadn’t insisted on coming because she thought she could get away from me.
Yury’s permission obtained, I met Arkady and Maksim at the loading bay.
“Why is she here?” Leaning from the driver’s side window, Arkady looked even less pleased than our boss.
I thrust Jo into the backseat of the blacked-out luxury SUV. “She is coming.”
“Not a good idea.” Maksim glanced over from the passenger side while I position myself right next to our prisoner.
She buckled in then I gripped her wrist in a hard hold.
She sailed a scathing look my way but kept that mouth of hers shut.
“We prove she’s alive, not hurt. More leverage,” I bit my explanation out through tight lips.
Arkady took one last look at me before hitting the child locks, which meant Jo couldn’t just open the door and dive headlong into the night.
No one said another word as we hurtled across the city toward destination no man’s land.
Arkady slowed our rapid approach when we cruised through an opening in the fence surrounding the docks—a gateway we’d been using for years.
Closing in on the specific location, dense tension pressed in like shadows around us.
Bleak deserted area. The black of night. A foghorn bleated out across the harbor.
Airplanes circling Logan and taking off from the runways roared overhead.
“This looks all too familiar,” Arkady muttered.
Maksim made a low sound in his throat. “Let’s hope it’s not a repeat of last time.”
Jo fidgeted beside me.
She’d better not be getting ready to bolt.
Arkady slowed the SUV across the paved area before hitting the brakes. “We made it out on top that time.”
Unbuckling Jo and taking both her wrists in my hand, I reminded my brothers, “I got shot.”
Jo made a strange noise in her throat.
14
Jo
“I GOT SHOT,” KIRILL said as he grasped both my wrists.
I yelped, but not because he gripped my hands in the unforgiving vise of his long fingers.
He hauled me from the deluxe SUV and out into the muggy night.
The docks, again.
The night was heavy, as though ghosts reached out with clammy, clutching fingers through the mist rolling in off the harbor.
I remembered that other time we were all here, just like the Krasnovs had.
I could only hope there’d be no bloodshed on this particular night.
Suddenly, though, the three Russians surrounded me so big and broad they blotted out all but the hazy moon hanging high above.
They wore identical impassive masks, blanking their features into the deadliest visages.
I was reminded of what they truly were, the same as they’d been that first fearful morning, which was barely thirty-six hours ago.
Ruthless killers. Unrepentant kings of the Zolotov Bratva.
Men who ruled by the blade and the bullet, not by kindness.
They might dress in suits. But they were the sharks of the streets.
Chills erupted on my skin despite the high temperature that almost dripped with moisture.
“First things first.” Kirill’s icy voice came from behind me, Maksim and Arkady flanking me.
Once again, Kirill yanked my hands low at my spine, that time zippering my wrists together with a biting strip of plastic.
With me restrained, Arkady and Maksim moved off on silent feet with guns drawn.
I watched unblinkingly as they stealthily glided across the immediate area that consisted of four gigantic cargo containers that sat in a large cross. They made no sound, surveilling the grounds and trading hand motions as though they’d done time as Marines.
Kirill and I stood inside the space the four containers abutted.
The sound of an engine approaching prompted the other two to pull back to us, and Kirill remained slightly behind me.
He drew his weapon.
One of them anyway.
When my brothers squealed to a hasty stop directly across from the Krasnov’s SUV, their headlights glinted off the barrel of Kirill’s gun he held down at his side.
“Make this easier on yourself, malyshka, and don’t struggle.” Pure bristling malice invested Kirill’s voice at my ear. “Or do, and see what happens.”
Gone was the man who’d flirted with me, who had opened up to me about his past just the littlest bit. The dominant lover had disappeared, and the aloof but caring man who’d bought me oodles of outfits had morphed back into his true self.
With the flip of a switch, Kirill became a heartless brute.
My three brothers exited Lucky’s battered old Jeep. They crouched, aiming their AKs toward the inner circle.
Kirill cranked a steel-like arm around my neck.
Electricity crackled like a lightning storm on the verge of shooting across the atmosphere.
Electricity, and way too much testosterone.
“I’ll drop your sister right now if you don’t lower those weapons,” Kirill uttered the threat in his lowest knife-edged voice.
Lucky led the pack, his black hair and stern face lit in the headlights, and he didn’t stand down. “We’re the ones who asked you here in good faith.”
Maksim snorted, then he blasted a round into the pavement at Kelly’s feet.
Leaping back with a snarl, my middle brother brought his weapon level with Maksim’s forehead. “Try that again, Russkie. I feckin’ dog dare ya.”
High intensity rippled across all six of them—guns cocked in a deadly fashion.
God. They were just gonna go all shooting gallery on one another, and I’d get hit in the crossfire.<
br />
“You’ve got balls, you Irish peasants.” Arkady took two paces toward Dex. “But balls aren’t going to get you anywhere but planted six feet under in an early grave.”
“Peasants? Open your mouth one more time, you Slavic fuck, and I’ll show what an animal I am,” Dex snarled in response.
All big men, three brothers against three brothers. And all of them aiming to get the last word if not the first shot.
“Idiots!” I yelled across their boasts and bullying. “If you came here to talk, then talk. If you just met up so you could blow each other’s brains out, then be my guest. But I do not wanna be in the middle of it. Men. You’re impossible, each and every one of you!”
It almost felt like a chuckle worked its way up Kirill’s chest as he stood pressed against me.
“Damn, sis. Are you done?” Dex—who was my youngest brother although still two years older than me—raised one eyebrow without lowering his high-powered rifle.
“Depends on if you’re all fool enough to fire off without even speaking.” I jutted my chin out and I would’ve flapped my hands too if they weren’t restrained behind my back.
Kirill lowered his arm from my neck. “You’ve got a very mouthy sister.”
“Are we standing down because my upstart little sis said so?” Lucky’s eyes narrowed on Kirill and his gun.
“Nyet.”
“For god’s sake, Kirill,” I hissed quietly.
“We’ll lower our weapons if they do first,” he muttered.
“Jesus Christ.” I’d had about enough of this macho alpha male bullshit. “Okay. Fine.” Spinning quickly, I got down on my knees in front of Kirill. “Just shoot me then.”
I scooted over until his gun barrel nudged at my forehead.
Looking up, I saw his expression falter.
“What are you doing?” he asked grimly.
“SHOOT ME!”
I heard safeties clicking behind me. Threat finally averted.
“Feck’s sake, Jo!” Dex shouted. “You wanna prove a point or something?”
“Get up,” Kirill commanded before holstering his firearm.
He lifted me by my upper arms, drawing me back against him.
He whispered at my ear, “You ever do anything insane like that again, and I’ll take it out ten times harder on your ass.”