Empires and Kings (A Mafia Series Book 1)

by A. C. Bextor

  During her time away, we’ve hardly spoken. With all that’s progressed, or was progressing, between Klara and me, along with Faina’s new life being forced on her back in Russia, and how we left things between us before she left, neither one of us has extended an olive branch toward the other.

  Life as we’ve always known it has taken a toll on us both, but in different ways.

  “I had Steffan pick me up from the airport. I just got in. Apparently, I’ve walked myself into a minefield. Your men are scattered. Gleb is the moodiest I’ve ever seen him. Leonid won’t talk at all, and Abram is nowhere to be found. What in the hell have you done?”

  What have I done?

  Such an open-ended question considering I’ve not spoken to Klara in weeks, not in the way we used to speak, anyway. After she let me have her and then leave her as I did, I’ve avoided her entirely. I used her body against her. I turned her attraction to me into betrayal. I’ve all but decided she’ll never be in my bed again.

  I could force the stubborn woman into submission, threaten her for not listening to my reasons for doing as I did. However, that would cause the static between us to worsen.

  So, to answer Faina, I’d only be causing her more worry.

  “Sit down and keep me company,” I invite, pointing to the chair next to mine, then pulling a cold beer from the cooler Maag had Rueon bring out hours before.

  “Vlad,” Faina calls, garnering my attention.

  When I look up, my sister is standing above me, her face a cloud of confusion. Her hands are behind her back as she leans her body on the rail next to my resting feet.

  “Your disappointment in me reeks. For fuck’s sake, I can smell it on you,” I state. “Don’t start lecturing so soon after you’ve gotten home.”

  “I wasn’t going to lecture you.”

  “No?”

  Shaking her head, she smiles. “No.”

  “Then what’s on your mind?”

  “You are so bad with human beings. Not just women, but all of us.” She tsks. “You show more affection to these dogs than to the people who live here.”

  She signals to Maximus sitting at my side and scowls. His ears point to the sky in reaction to her scrutinizing glare. Meridius can’t be bothered to move.

  “That sounds like the start of a lecture, Faina,” I warn.

  “I don’t have to explain all you’ve done. You already know.”

  I do, so I don’t give her another moment to rehash it.

  “Sit,” I tell her again.

  “I’m getting married in five weeks,” she announces, grabbing the proffered bottle from my hand. Twisting the cap, she continues, “To a man I don’t even like.”

  “Thomas will be good for you, Faina,” I object. “Vory told me he likes you.”

  “He likes me,” she hisses, leaning in to get close from where she sits in her chair. “My God, big brother. He’s twenty years older than I am! He has gray hair and wrinkled skin.”

  “He’s experienced.”

  “He’s a dinosaur.”

  “He’s secure.”

  “He’s a brute.”

  “He’s who our father chose for you.”

  “Our father is an idiot.”

  This one single conversation is taking all my energy and she’s just gotten home.

  “Then there’s you,” she starts in again, this time not in the jovial voice from before. She’s outright angry. “You have the love of a good woman, a woman who would be loyal and faithful to this family until the day she died.” Tossing her hand in front of her, signaling to all our property ahead, she tells me, “She belongs here, in your life, and you’ve ruined her.”

  Lifting my drink to my mouth and surveying the area she’s focused on, I also comment for good measure, “Just as you were afraid I would.”

  “No lie there. I didn’t want you with her. I wanted to protect her.”

  “I know. I should’ve listened.”

  “You were right not to. You made her happy.”

  “You believe this now? What’s changed?”

  Lifting the bottle to her mouth, Faina stares out into the expansive yard and sighs. “Thomas is what happened. You were happy with her. When I’d talk to her on the phone, her excitement was sickening. I want that for me, too. I was wrong to try to take it from you.”

  “Ask her if I make her happy now,” I add with sarcasm.

  “You scared the hell out of her with that barbaric scene,” she admonishes.

  “She told you,” I surmise.

  “Of course she did.” Sighing again, my sister sits back in her seat. With the hand not holding her drink, she lifts her hair, piling it on top of her head. “She told me you didn’t hurt her, but Jesus, what you did was extreme even for you.”

  “It was necessary.”

  “No.” Faina pouts. “Not at all.”

  “Does Thomas want children?” I question, carefully changing the subject.

  Faina turns her head. Her nose scrunches, and her eyes narrow.

  “I don’t want kids with him, so what he wants doesn’t matter. We’d have to make those heathens together. Who the hell arranges marriages anymore? This is ridiculous.”

  “You’ll do as Father wants. You don’t have a choice.”

  “He’s coming here after the wedding if he can get away. Mom is worse than she ever was. She’s so much more detached. He’s worried about her.”

  However selfish and unfair my feelings toward my mother, I’m thankful she is the way she is. With her being so dependent on my father, he’ll have less time trying to keep my dependence on him.

  “Gleb mentioned you’re taking a trip. You’re leaving in a couple days?”

  “I am,” I tell her. “Heading down south. I want to look at a few of our houses personally.”

  Faina doesn’t need to know I’m also going straight north to meet with Killian Dawson. This time we won’t meet in public; no attack likely. I’m convinced that Killian has things yet to say, and I plan to propose a gentleman’s agreement between us.

  “Leonid is more than capable of going in your place. So what you really want is to get the hell away from here.”

  “I’m focusing on what I should’ve been focusing on all along.”

  “That’s an excuse. A cop-out,” she utters quietly. “Fix this with Klara, brother. If you don’t, you’ll end up alone and unhappy.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You’ll end up hating everyone again.”

  “Faina.”

  “You’ll end up—”

  Lifting my hand, I tell her, “Faina, you’re lecturing.”

  “Loving a beautiful woman like her won’t kill you, Vlad,” she presses without delay. “But the heartbreak that comes with losing someone so beautiful will.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I question, “And you’d know so much about that?”

  Shaking her head, Faina drops her gaze to her lap. “No.”

  The silence between us is wrapped in what I fear is a well-kept secret. Before I have a chance to prod, the back door slides open.

  Klara’s smiling as her eyes hit Faina first. Her hair is down, blowing in the cool breeze. She’s wearing a light sweater and faded jeans. When she recognizes who sits at Faina’s side, her smile drops.

  A sharp pain hits my chest.

  “I didn’t know you were busy,” Klara claims, taking one step backward into the house.

  Faina stands. “I’m not.” My sister turns to me and her eyes widen, beckoning me to do or say something.

  I refuse to budge. Whatever Klara and I talk about, and whenever we do so, isn’t anyone’s business but our own.

  “I can come back,” Klara states.

  Faina places her beer on the cooler between us and doesn’t offer me another glance. Turning to Klara, she states, “I was just leaving. Let’s go.”

  Against the brightness of my bedroom light, my eyes immediately open and then close. And as I wake from another restless sleep, I try to remember where
I am.

  My body jolts when it’s lifted from the bed and sent sailing through the air.

  Landing hard against Vlad’s warm and bare chest, I open my mouth to scream in protest.

  Thinking better of not wanting to wake the others, I whisper in a hiss, “What in the hell are you doing?”

  Vlad uses his foot to hold my bedroom door open as he carries me out into the hall. The memory of being trapped in this same spot with Maag, Rueon, and Veni staring at us together holds me quiet. I don’t want to gather any witnesses for whatever Vlad is planning.

  “Shut up,” he snaps, keeping his focus to moving forward. “It’s time we talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” I lie.

  Only hours ago I sat alone in my room, fully aware of where Vlad was headed in the morning. My stomach churned with doubt. Visions of Vlad having sex with a whore in his hotel room corrupted my thoughts.

  Over the course of the last month, I’ve cast Vlad aside, pushing him out as best I could. Then, as he left me in the bathroom days ago, my resolve began to wane. I’ve had time to think, to try and understand why he did what he did.

  The only reasoning I’ve come up with is that he did it all for me.

  “Good you don’t want to talk. Maybe for once you’ll shut up and listen,” he states.

  As Abram had explained, the man he murdered was going to hurt me. His motives weren’t about family, only about material. I was the collateral he needed to get something he didn’t already have—money and a place in Ciro Palleshi’s ear.

  Vlad protected me once again from the grotesque world I have no desire to venture out into alone.

  Not to mention, I’ve missed Vlad. I’ve missed us.

  “Well, you could’ve talked in my room,” I mumble with petulance, finding the comfort of his arms more soothing than I’d like.

  “Klara, hush,” he clips again.

  Vlad kicks open his bedroom door. He sets me to my feet where I straighten the black lace nightie I’d chosen tonight to sleep in. With only his bedroom lamp on, I cast a quick unobtrusive glance around his room.

  Vlad’s books are stacked on his small bedside table. His worn clothes are strewn throughout the floor. His dresser is cluttered with this and that.

  Maag hasn’t been in here at all. Apparently, not for weeks.

  Oddly, I note, this must be driving our dear housemaid close to crazy.

  Taking a quiet seat on the edge of Vlad’s bed, I chance turning my gaze to his. With his chest already bare, Vlad’s fingers sort through his belt before starting on the buttons of his pants. He leaves them open but makes no move to take them down.

  In a civil tone which masks my nervousness, I ask, “Why have you brought me here to talk?”

  “Tell me you understand why I did what I did,” he demands. “And that you’ll never interfere in my business again.”

  Rightfully, by his condescending tone alone, I want to smart back. I don’t because, after accepting all the advice Abram gave me without my consent, I’ve come to realize what I did was wrong. Questioning the means Vlad uses to protect those he cares about was a misguided mistake. The problem is that I haven’t let go of my pride and explained all this to him.

  “Vlad—”

  “Klara, tell me. Say the words.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrow my eyes. The corners of his mouth lift and the rigidity in his posture wanes. Secretly, I’ve come to believe Vlad enjoys the challenges I give him.

  “We can’t talk if you don’t let me speak.”

  “If you have something to say, I’ll listen,” he tells me, coaxing my submission.

  “I have something to say.”

  I have more than enough to tell him. So much to explain and once I do, Vlad will either understand or he won’t. I fear if he won’t, I’ll be sentenced to more nights without him next to me. More mornings I’ll wake up alone, full of sadness and regret.

  I start with “I shouldn’t have interfered.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” he replies.

  Widening my eyes, I return, “You’re interrupting.”

  Vlad’s expression warms while he closes his mouth.

  Looking to the floor, I study his booted feet. Dear God, I’ve missed all of him. Even the trivial memories of how we once were have been left to taunt me.

  “It’s possible I’m about to go to start a war, Klara,” he states. “With a family who’s been at my family’s back for decades. Ciro is playing a game of cat and mouse. What you did could’ve cost me finding out information that I needed to use against him.”

  “I know,” I whisper, feeling the subtle but heavy weight of guilt.

  “And if you remember, not long ago, I was shot at. As was Abram, who suffered because of it.”

  “Vlad, I know this, too.”

  “Vory is livid,” he continues. “With me. With Faina. He wants bloodshed for what’s been done.”

  “Are you—”

  Pushing forward, Vlad points out, “I don’t want Veniamin involved in any of this. If we’re not careful, someone else I care about could be hurt. A target like you were.”

  The weight of an unfair world sits heavily on Vlad’s shoulders. I’ve added undue stress to everything he’s already trying to manage.

  “Your entire life you’ve lived here, in this house, Klara. But you haven’t lived with me. The second you let me have you, everything you thought you understood about your place in this life changed.”

  “I understand. I do,” I assure. “And I’m sorry.”

  Pressing as if not hearing my confession, he continues with “You can’t do what you did ever again. And the next time, I can’t be as lenient as I was.”

  He’s right. Faina had told me what a woman in Vlad’s life means to his enemies. I’m a pawn for negotiation, now considered a living weapon in his home that his enemies want to destroy. The notion may sound outrageous, but that makes it no less true.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he replies.

  Seeming to have reeled in his agitation, Vlad takes two steps in my direction. My back tenses, and I crane my neck to look up at him.

  Every brutal but beautiful feature of his face is the same. His green eyes. His shadowing light brown hair. The power of his disposition. The strength of his broad chest.

  His fingers caress my cheek, moving down to the line of my jaw. The gentle touch acts as a balm, soothing over the space that’s been between us. The depths of his contemplation are nerve-racking. So much has taken place between us I’m no longer sure where I stand in his life. If I stand anywhere at all.

  With my eyes growing thick with unshed tears, I beg, “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

  Without hesitation, Vlad admits, “I’m thinking how much I’ve missed having you look at me the way you are in this moment.”

  I swallow. Vlad’s never been one of sweet gestures.

  “And I’m thinking how much I’ve missed hearing you say my name when I’m inside you.”

  God, I’ve missed that, too.

  I don’t reply as Vlad bends, grabs me beneath my arms, and lays my body flat against the bed before covering it with his own.

  Beneath my gown, Vlad’s hand travels up my stomach, slowly sliding between my breasts. My nipples peak with long-awaited anticipation. My core burns, wanting its fill of him again.

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” he tells me, lifting his hand from me and adjusting his pants to position himself at my entrance.

  The anticipation turns to pleasure as his finger glides across my clit over my panties, circling and then adding pressure again and again.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell him again, having his full attention.

  Startled by the torturing tear of my panties, I feel Vlad’s chest move up and down as he tries to control his breathing. I’ve made him happy in succumbing to his demands and my promises never to interfere again.

  Driving deep, he enters me without warning. A f
eral moan breaks from his lips and he pulls out only to reenter just as hard. His eyes meet mine, holding my gaze steady as he rocks into me, thrusting without mercy and hungering for more.

  My body tightens, urging him on, pleading with him to give me everything he has.

  His mind.

  His heart.

  His soul.

  His love.

  Raising my head from the bed, I straighten my neck and my lips draw near his ear.

  “I love you,” I whisper what I know is true.

  In reaction, Vlad’s body stops its motion. He doesn’t return the endearment. I hadn’t expected him to.

  His cock pulsates before he thrusts again. Then on the third, Vlad empties into me with a carnal moan of pent-up release. Following him, my thighs begin to quiver and I go in search to find what was almost lost between us. The connection hadn’t been completely severed. All this time I’ve been away, I wanted this back.

  My body is spent, and my mind is tired.

  Finally, even before he has a chance to disconnect, the fear of losing him again, for any time at all, takes over.

  “This certainly isn’t how I pictured the inside of one of your operations to look like,” Killian notes, scanning the richly decorated room where several of my women are walking and talking with potential customers.

  “What had you pictured?” Abram questions as he sits on the couch at my side. “We don’t run brothels.”

  The old man laughs, bringing the tumbler of scotch to his lips. Before drinking, he replies, “I’ve never had a need for the services you offer. I’ll say I’m impressed with the variety of women I’ve found here. If I were looking for one, that is.”

  This location is by far the smallest of our stock. Tempra is run by a single woman. Elda is older, far past her own prime, and is considered professional in every sense.

  When, at the last minute, Killian backed out of our coming to see him, I was adamant that Abram and I come this far north. Coming here saved Killian from being caught by Ciro in fraternizing with the enemy. Ciro’s stupid, but even he couldn’t find a place like this if his cock were to try to lead him into one.

  “Are all of your houses similar to this one?”

  Abram laughs at my side, answering Killian’s question in my place. “Vlad has always had expensive tastes. Liquor and women alike. All of our houses are like this, but most have a larger menu of women to choose from.”