Ruthless Doms Boxset

by Jane Henry

  He chuckles and tugs a lock of my hair. “Certainly not, zvezda moya.”

  I smile to myself. I like that even after all that’s happened, I can still make him smile.

  “We have more guests arriving,” Tomas tells Nicolai. I feel Nicolai tense beside me. The more people who arrive, the more dangerous it is for us. He smiles at Nicolai. “And you can thank the man that recommended you to our brotherhood in person.”

  I pause with a forkful of salad halfway to my mouth when I see the lock on Nicolai’s face. Though he schools his features, his body’s gone still. What does this mean?

  “Excellent,” Nicolai says. “When will that be?”

  “Shortly,” Tomas says. “They arrived earlier today and will be joining us for dessert.” He turns his attention to someone else.

  Nicolai places his fork down on his plate, and I note how he looks around the room with narrowed eyes, as if trying to out a traitor. He lifts his wine glass and polishes the whole thing off, then leans over to me.

  “You’re sick,” he whispers. “I have to take you back to your room.”

  It’s my cue. I bring my hand to my forehead and moan in a low voice. I clutch my stomach. He eats his dinner, and shoots me an obvious look of concern. He doesn’t want to make it look too obvious.

  “You feeling okay, love?” he asks out loud.

  “No,” I say, and I really do feel ill now. My stomach churns with nausea. I don’t know who the person was who recommended his entry into this Bratva, but I saw how he reacted, and I know Nicolai wants to hide me.

  “What is it?” He’s facing me now, and he places a hand on my head. “Nauseous?” A few others look our way.

  I am, though, for real. “Yes,” I say with a grimace.

  He sighs. “That’s unfortunate,” he says, tucking a stray lock of hair behind one of my ears. “Let’s get you to the doctor.”

  “I think I just need rest,” I tell him.

  He gets to his feet and takes my hand. “I’m sorry. She doesn’t feel well,” Nicolai says to Tomas. “I’ll take her back to the room.”

  Tomas is distracted by someone else he’s speaking to, but he nods to Nicolai. My heartbeat quickens when he grasps my elbow and marches me swiftly out of the room. He tucks me against him and slings an arm around my shoulder, so few can see my face as he escorts me.

  “Keep your head down,” he hisses. “Look at no one. Do not speak.”

  My pulse races but I do what he says. We’re just to the exit when I realize we still have to leave through the bar area. What if someone in there knows us? I look wildly to the left and right, but there’s nowhere else to go.

  “You heard what I said,” he repeats. “Eyes down.”

  I realize his hand is at his waist, and he’s ready to draw a weapon. Oh, God. How many people would he kill to keep me? Would he survive if he attacked when we were surrounded like this? Is he even in his right mind?

  We make it out the door and to the hall leading to our room, when I realize we’re not alone. He quickens our pace. Someone followed us from the bar.

  I want to look so badly it’s killing me, but he insisted I don’t. With considerable effort, I keep my gaze to the floor, pretending like someone isn’t walking in step behind us.

  “Khristos,” Nicolai says, and to my shock, we come to a stop. I look up, and gasp in shock when I see his father. I’ve known him since I was a baby, and I want to run to him and hug him. I’ve always loved Stefan. But this isn’t the place to greet him.

  They don’t let on that they know each other. They don’t touch each other, but stand at a distance.

  “Pleased to see you’ve arrived, Aleks,” he says. I blink in confusion. What the hell? He knew?

  “Thank you,” Nicolai says. “And I appreciate the recommendation to Tomas.”

  Ah. So it was his father that recommended him to the Boston Bratva.

  His father nods. “Yes,” he says. “It was my pleasure. Has your pakhan told you I’ve brought some guests with me?” Though his voice is casual, it’s tight. My pulse quickens. My father is a member of Stefan’s Bratva.

  Nicolai stills. “He has mentioned guests, but none by name.”

  They hold each other’s gazes and Stefan lowers his voice. “Several arrived here before me,” he says. “I didn’t know they’d be coming here this weekend. I came as quickly as I could.”

  Nicolai holds his gaze and drops his voice. Casual, so a bystander wouldn’t suspect anything is out of place. “Is he here?”

  “Yes.”

  My heart skips a beat, and I draw closer to Nicolai. Who? My father? I’ve suspected since my abduction he wasn’t innocent in any of this.

  “I see,” Nicolai says. He can’t hide the panic and anger in his voice. “If you’ll excuse me, my woman is sick, and I was taking her to go lie down.”

  “Of course. I hope to see you soon.”

  Nicolai marches me so quickly to our room now, he’s nearly running. He opens the door and practically shoves me in. I stumble, and when I right myself, I look at him in surprise.

  “Why is he here?”

  “We can’t speak freely.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck, you’re not safe in here. The fucking cameras. And if anyone comes in here, if anyone knows you’re here…”

  “Where am I safe?” I whisper.

  He crosses the room to me and grabs my arms, pulling me to him. His blue eyes are alight with fire, his voice tight with emotion when he speaks. “With me. The only fucking place you’re safe is with me, because I’ll end anyone who comes near you. I’ll kill anyone who touches you. I’ll murder anyone who harms a hair on your head.” He yanks me to him fiercely and kisses the top of my head before he brings his mouth to my ear and whispers. “Your father is here. Your father was the one who orchestrated your abduction.”

  “What?” I whisper. “No.” I had suspicions, but having them confirmed breaks something inside me.

  “He owed a debt,” he says. He strokes his thumb along my cheek as if to soothe me. I begin to shake. “He was in league with your boyfriend, the fucking douchebag. It’s why I took you. It’s why we ran. And it’s why we can’t go anywhere freely, because the ties your father has run too deep. He would proclaim me guilty for abducting you, and I’d be killed. And I have to protect you.”

  He’s more concerned with his inability to protect me than dying.

  I rest my forehead on his chest, inhale deeply, then exhale. “What do we do?”

  “We can’t hide anymore,” he says. “I’m done hiding. I want you to myself, Marissa. Everywhere we go, another danger threatens us, but I’m done. I will not spend the rest of my life hiding you.”

  A chill washes over me at the tone of his voice.

  Before he can speak again, the doorknob between the rooms jiggles. Nicolai has his gun drawn and cocked before it opens.

  The door swings open, and I gasp. It’s my father.

  Chapter 22

  Nicolai

  When I see Myron enter the room, the maniacal fury in his eyes, the need to kill him burns in me so fiercely, my finger trembles on the trigger.

  “Don’t you fucking touch her,” I warn him. “You come anywhere near her, and I’ll end you.”

  “You fucking bastard,” Myron growls, prowling closer to her. I take a step toward him and he freezes, eyeing my gun with hatred and fear. “You stole my daughter.”

  “I didn’t steal her,” I say. I remember the cameras in Tomas’s office. They’re trained on us now, and Myron doesn’t know. If I get him to confess everything, I could use this to my advantage. “I did not steal her,” I repeat. “I took her away from being abducted by your men.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I clench my jaw. I have to get him to say the truth. He takes another step toward us, and Marissa trembles against my chest.

  I decide to take a different tactic. “It was brilliant, wasn’t it? You had the man you worked with ask her out. The one in league with you was the v
ery man she told her secrets to. Kissed. Spent time alone with.”

  Marissa brings her hand to her mouth.

  He actually smiles. “It was brilliant, wasn’t it?”

  “Such an effective means of getting the most money for your own daughter,” I state, loud and clear for the cameras to pick up everything. “So I tried to rescue her. I took her away from you so you wouldn’t sell her.”

  “But it wasn’t good enough, was it?” Myron says.

  He comes closer, and I cock my gun. “Take another step and you lose a knee cap.”

  I fucking mean it, and he knows it. He stands still, his gun pointed at Marissa.

  “Don’t you dare touch her,” I warn him.

  “Like you have a claim on her now?”

  “I do.”

  “When I tell your precious pakhan what you’ve done, that you stole my daughter from me, he’ll order you killed,” he says with a twisted grin.

  “I paid for her,” I say. “Every penny I owned. I bought her fairly. I own her.” And I do. I fucking do. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and hold his gaze. “I just don’t understand why you sold her.”

  He shrugs. “Needed to pay off a debt,” he says. Marissa cries quietly but holds her ground, facing her father.

  “So you sold her into slavery and paid off your debt. I bought her fairly. And now you’re after me not because I took her but because you’re afraid I’ll out the truth.”

  His fierce look and silence underscore the truth in my words.

  “This is what we’re going to do,” I tell him. “We are going back out to where everyone is, and you’ll confess what happened.”

  Myron laughs. “I’ll never admit it. I have witnesses that saw you take her.”

  “The ones that tried to kill me?”

  Myron smiles. “Of course. One came to me and told me you were here.” He shakes his head. “It’s just unfortunate that his lack of following orders meant he had to die. Just like you.”

  I take a moment to process what he’s saying and repeat it loud and clear for the cameras. “So you killed a member of the Boston Bratva because he lied to you?”

  He’s tying his own noose around his neck.

  “His allegiance was to me first,” Myron says, his eyes bulging. “Now get out. I can’t kill you here or your pakhan will have my head.” What he doesn’t know is that he’s playing exactly into the cards I’ve dealt. If my plan goes as it should, he’s leading us to his own demise, but he’s just deranged enough to believe he can convict me as a traitor.

  Marissa looks as if she wants to kill him herself, but a sharp shake of my head warns her not to make a move. I lean in and whisper a heated, furious, “trust me,” in her ear.

  “Stop talking to her. And put the gun down,” Myron orders.

  Like hell I’m putting my weapon down.

  The bedroom door opens, and to my surprise, my father enters the room. He feigns surprise. “I heard a commotion in here. What the hell is going on here? Nicolai?”

  Myron glares. “Look who I found. Your son abducted my daughter,” he says. “He faked his own death so he could get away with it.”

  My father looks at me, and I decide to play along. “Take me to my pakhan.”

  My father’s brow furrows, but I give him a slight nod, telling him silently to trust me as well.

  “We will go to his pakhan indeed,” my father says. “And you can tell him everything my son has done. Weapon down,” he orders me. Fuck. He has to pretend to go along with Myron if we are going to out him.

  We make an unlikely troop, Myron and my father pointing a gun at me while I hold onto Marissa. When we get to the main hall, I quickly glance around. I need to find Yakov and Tomas immediately. I see Tomas standing by the bar, surrounded by several men, and Yakov stands just a few feet from the door.

  When we enter, guns drawn, the entire room freezes. Tomas steps forward, and four large men follow, their guns drawn. His guard.

  “Aleks,” he snaps. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Myron speaks first. “You have in your midst a traitor,” he says. “And his identity is a lie. He stole my daughter and had the audacity to come here and pretend to be someone else.”

  I look to Yakov and catch his gaze. He’s standing like the rest of the men. Half have weapons drawn, though Yakov’s placed Yvonne behind him. I shake my head once, a silent signal to tell him he can believe me. Yakov holds my gaze and I nod. Once. He gives me an almost imperceptible nod and slowly makes his way to Myron.

  Tomas looks at my father, his brows raised, then to me. His face is drawn and stern, as he crosses his arms on his chest. My father still has his gun pointed at me.

  “Stefan. Is this true?” Tomas asks.

  My father looks to me. “Trust me,” I mouth. In one swift motion, my father swivels the gun from me and points it directly to Myron. Myron’s face registers shock, then rage.

  “Some of it is, and some of it isn’t.”

  I speak up. “I’ll tell you everything,” I say to Tomas. “But you have to listen.” I have nothing to lose by telling the truth.

  Tomas’s gaze on me is fierce. With one command, he could have me killed and Marissa taken. “I have all day.”

  I have nothing to lose if I tell the truth.

  “I was the bodyguard for Marissa Rykov for four years,” I say. “My name is Nicolai Morozov. I am Russian Bratva and owe allegiance to my father, Stefan, my pakhan.”

  Murmurs of surprise rise in the room. Myron’s face grows beet red and his hand shakes on his gun. “I told you—”

  Tomas slices his hand in the air. “Let him speak.”

  I go on. “Three months ago, an informant told me that Marissa’s father had sold her into slavery. They were coming to collect a debt he owed. So I took her and ran. To keep her safe.”

  “This is true,” Marissa says. It’s the first time she’s spoken. Everyone stares at her in silence. “Every word of it.”

  “But I couldn’t keep her safe,” I continue. “We were ambushed, and she was taken into slavery. They tried to kill me. I was thrown into the river, but I escaped. I stayed hidden, while the men who took me reported me dead. They kept her for three months while I searched, preparing her for the virgin auction. For three months, I hid, in search for her. To find her. Rescue her. I hired help, and between us, we discovered that she was being sold at the virgin auction, but the only way for me to free her was to buy her. Become a new member of your group.”

  “You fucking bastard,” Myron growls. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

  “I told you to let him speak,” Tomas says. He turns to men behind him. “A man on him on each side.” Silently, two huge, burly men with drawn weapons stand on either side of Myron.

  Myron glares at him but shuts his mouth.

  “You don’t have to take my word for it,” I tell them. “Play the footage of the cameras in her room. I got him to confess all.”

  “Really,” Tomas says with a slow nod. “Conveniently, we have screens we can show right here.” He raises his voice. “All men, stand down. No weapons fired until we have the truth. If what he says is true, we’ll seek justice before the sun sets tonight.”

  Marissa’s right. Men do tremble. I’m shaking like a goddamn leaf as Tomas pushes a button, a panel opens up on the wall above the bar, and a flat screen tv flickers on. Myron’s beet red with rage, shaking with fury. “Lies!” he shouts. “Lies!”

  A minute later, and the conversation with me and Myron plays out for all to see. Marissa buries her face on my chest and wraps her arms around me.

  Tomas stares at Myron. “You sold your own daughter into slavery,” Tomas says. “Though some Bratva groups may give you full rights to do with your family what you will, we do no such a thing here. All family of the Bratva are covered by the same code of protection. A Bratva wife or daughter is as valued as a Bratva brother.”

  Marissa grips me tighter, and Myron sputters with anger.

  Toma
s continues, staring Myron down. “You killed one of my men.” His voice is deadly.

  “He’s the one who took her!” Myron fumes. He reaches for his weapon, but he’s too slow. Yakov lunges, pins him to the ground and points his pistol at his temple. He looks to Tomas.

  Tomas’s gaze comes to my father.

  “He is a member of your brotherhood. I will not put our men at war.”

  My father nods to Tomas. “You have my permission.”

  Tomas turns to Yakov. “Kill him.”

  Yakov pulls the trigger.

  Marissa screams and sobs, but I hold her as relief floods through me. Myron was our first obstacle.

  With the precision of soldiers, Tomas’s men make sure Myron is dead before they get rid of his body. Tomas and my father speak to one another, and after everything’s been cleaned up, Tomas orders everyone to turn in for the night.

  “You and Stefan come to my office,” Tomas says to me. He sanctioned Myron’s death, but will he allow me to go free? Marissa looks up at me, and I hold her hand, tucking her so close to my side there isn’t an inch of space between us.

  There is no commotion, hardly anyone talks as Marissa and I join my father and Tomas. At any other place and time, a showdown like we’ve just had would cause a stir. But here, in this group, they follow the orders of their pakhan without a backward glance. They stand in solidarity against a man who turned his back on his family. They are ruthless killers, but I can’t help but admire their fortitude, loyalty, and obedience to their leader.

  It feels almost surreal, shedding my false identity. Knowing that Myron, and the traitor in this group who tried to kill me, are dead. I hold Marissa’s warm hand in mine and feel her steady pulse. I need this right now. Death and destruction lie everywhere we turn.

  I risk a glance at my father. His face is drawn and grim. Both of us lied to Tomas. How will he handle that?

  Tomas gestures us in the office and closes and locks the door behind us. There are only two seats facing his desk. My father takes one, I take the second, and I tug Marissa onto my lap. She nestles against my shoulder, trembling. Before Tomas sits, he turns to her.