by Snow, Jenika
This was good news. If Maximillian went rogue, that meant he killed my father and all those others on his own, without orders. He went against the Russian mob, and the price for betrayal was in the currency of blood. They’d go after him. They’d kill him. But the way she said that last part had my entire body tightening, because I knew there was more.
It wasn’t as good as it sounded.
“He’s gone missing, but not for the reasons we all need him to be.”
She meant death.
There was another long pause, and I held my breath as I waited for her to finish.
“The rumor is he’s gone to America, Nadja. I don’t know if he’s gone there to hide, or to finish what he started with your father… meaning taking out Petrov’s daughter.”
Or worse, I thought, finishing for her when I heard her stutter on that last word.
I remembered the vile things Maximillian said to me, the filthy, obscene things he’d do to me once we were married. He had this sick obsession for me that started well before I’d been with Frankie. And once back in Russia, once the wedding had been set and he knew I’d be his, it had only grown.
“I just don’t know the answers, but I know it’s not safe, not now more than ever.”
I thought about Frankie, how I had to come clean with this to him. He had to know what he was getting himself into. He said he’d be by my side always, but when facing a psycho like Maximillian… did it extend that far? Could I allow him to be hurt because of me?
God, never.
He was the love of my life, and for the first time since I’d been back, since we’d been reunited, I had so much regret coming here. I told myself I should have stayed away, not for me, not for my heart, but because he deserved better than a broken girl who brought death to his doorstep.
21
Frankie
“Fuck,” I pulled my hand away from the skillet faster than I thought humanly possible and shook it like that was going to make the pain suddenly fucking vanish.
I couldn’t remember the last time I burned myself while cooking; then again, I hadn’t actually cooked anything in God knew how long. Yet here I was, trying to make breakfast for Nadja like the world we currently lived in was anywhere near normal.
But I wanted things to be normal, not for me but for her. She deserved that and so much more. Hell, Nadja deserves someone better than the likes of me, a professional fucking thief.
But I’d try to be a good man. I’d try so damn hard for her if that’s what it took.
She hadn’t had normalcy in so long, and it broke my fucking heart. So here I was cooking eggs and bacon, and burning the fuck out of toast, which I didn’t even know was possible. I was even doing the whole fresh-squeezed orange juice routine—seeds complimentary, because my hands were too big and my grip too tight in the little orange fuckers.
I’d gotten up before the sun even rose and had planned on going to the twenty-four-hour grocery store outside town, but I was too paranoid to leave her, too possessive. So I’d done the whole delivery route, something I’d never done before and didn’t even feel comfortable with. I didn’t like strangers at my place, but this was all for Nadja. I wanted things to be as perfect as they could be for her.
I had this picture in my head of how this would all play out. The breakfast would be perfect and sitting on the table when she woke up. She’d come out of the room looking sexy and sleepy as hell. I’d watch her eat, feeling pride and possessiveness knowing I was the one who provided for her, who nourished her and kept her safe, made her happy.
Yet here I was burning everything.
I went back to focusing on the stovetop, stirring the hash browns, and leaning in because they didn’t look right. Meaning they looked half frozen and half burned.
I was fucking this all up.
Shit.
I heard the bedroom door open, and my entire body went tight. I turned and stared at the entryway. A second later, the sound of her feet padding down the hallway came through loud, heightening my senses. I pictured her bare feet on the hardwood floor, imagined the feminine arches, her little toes, her soft skin.
My breathing started to increase, my heart beating faster. In my mind, I trailed my gaze up her legs. I pictured it all with clarity, remembered how soft her skin had been, how smooth and perfect.
And then she rounded the corner, stepping into the entryway. She stopped when she saw me, her hands going to the edge of the T-shirt she wore. My T-shirt. I’d given her some sweats and cotton tees until I could get her stuff that actually fit. The clothes she’d been wearing weren’t acceptable.
But seeing her in my clothes, knowing she smelled like me, had me so territorial I wanted to keep her locked in this house so no other male could look at her.
She deserved to be draped in silk and jewels. I certainly wasn’t that type of man, didn’t do the whole glitzy or fancy route, but with Nadja, I wanted to give it all to her. I wanted to give her the world.
I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her feet now in the flesh. She was rubbing them together, one foot on top of the other. Her toenails we bare of any polish, but her skin looked so fucking smooth that my fingers itched to touch her, my tongue swelled to explore every inch of her body. I didn’t want to be vulgar or obscene right now, didn’t want things to be sexual at this moment. But I couldn’t help myself.
I’d never been able to control myself when it concerned her.
I didn’t know how much time passed while she stood there and I stared at her, but I couldn’t take my focus from her. Seeing the way my black T-shirt hung on her slight frame had all kinds of filthy things moving through my mind.
She was so tiny, the material dwarfing her. She gave me this small smile, one that was a little bit forced, but I could see in her eyes she was trying to not have this distance between us.
I cleared my throat and ran my hands up and down my thighs, my palms sweaty, my own nerves increasing. I wasn’t a man who got nervous, who let anxiety rule me. But she put me on edge with just a glance.
“I made breakfast,” I said, taking note that my voice was so deep, so scratchy from unshed emotions. I cleared it again and gestured to the table.
She started biting at her bottom lip, her straight, white teeth pulling at the pink, plump flesh. I nearly groaned at the sight. It was so innocent yet so seductive at the same time. She finally moved into the kitchen, and I tracked her the entire time like I was some kind of wild animal watching my prey. She took a seat at the table, and I couldn’t help but watch as she stared at everything I’d laid out in front of her. Everything but these sad as hell hash browns were on plates on the table, but hell, everything looked disappointing.
Why the fuck did I think I could pull off normalcy?
She kept glancing at each plate, and in turn I did the same thing. The bacon was damn near black from me overcooking it, the toast was so dark I didn’t think it could be called bread anymore. The eggs looked… decent, but I wasn’t fooled.
I saw her lips twitching in amusement, and I found myself falling even more for her, which seemed almost impossible, given how obsessed I already was with Nadja.
“You cooked me breakfast?” She glanced up at me and pushed some hair away from her face, the golden strands now tucked behind her ear. She had this sexy mussed, sleepy look going on. It instantly had me thinking of having her in my bed all night long, my body over hers, thrusting in and out of her deeply, thoroughly.
I cleared my throat for what felt like the hundredth time and nodded. “I tried anyway.” Her lips twitched again, and she nodded but didn’t say anything, instead looking back at the food on the table.
I moved back to the stove and turned off the heat, the hash browns decent looking enough. After putting them in a dish and moving back to the table, I sat across from her and just stared at Nadja.
And then she started putting food on her plate. I continued to watch her movements, staring at the delicate way her wrist moved as she scooped things
out of the plates. Her bone structure was fragile, delicate like that of a baby bird’s. I had yet to get myself anything to eat, because all I wanted to do was sit here and watch her, see it as she ate, feeling pride fill me as she was no longer hungry, since I was the one making her full.
God, that last part sounded so damn sexual that I actually did groan involuntarily.
She glanced up at me, her eyebrows rising slightly. I gave her a tight smile and shifted on the seat, my cock already semi-hard. It would be a massive erection if I wasn’t forcing myself to keep everything under control. The last thing she needed was to see me have a raging hard-on.
She looked at her plate and then started eating, and when she took a bite of eggs, I heard the distinct sound of something crunching. Nadja took two fingers and put them to her mouth, and a second later pulled out an eggshell. She looked at the small white piece between her fingers for a second then lifted her eyes to me. A moment passed where we didn’t move or speak. And then she burst out laughing, leaning back in the chair and holding her stomach as amusement came from her and filled the entire kitchen.
Hell, I wasn’t even embarrassed over the fact that I’d really fucked up breakfast, because hearing her laugh was the greatest sound I’d ever heard in my whole goddamn life.
“That bad, huh?” I didn’t know why I phrased it like a question, because the truth of it all was right in front of me. I ran a hand over the back of my head and exhaled, but I felt my lips curl into a smile as she continued to laugh.
She was gorgeous when she was smiling.
“It’s perfect, actually,” she finally said and lifted her hand to rub a finger under her eye, as if wiping away a tear. But as the seconds moved by, I saw the way her amusement faded. She grew somber, and that changed the entire atmosphere in the room. “There are things I haven’t told you, things that complicate the situation.”
Everything in me got serious at hearing her words. We stared into each other’s eyes, and I waited until she spoke again. I wasn’t going to rush this or her.
“There are things that make the situation worse, and it’s probably best I leave, because I can’t risk you getting hurt.”
My heart stopped painfully in my chest at that. She wasn’t going anywhere.
She told me about Marina.
About the burner phone.
Nadja told me about the late call last night.
She told me about Maximillian going rogue and disappearing, and how the bratva was searching for him. The rumor was he was in the US. She admitted he was obsessed with her and that he would either come for her to finish what he started with her father and the other men in the organization that he slaughtered… or he’d come for her to make her his.
Not. Ever. Going. To. Fucking. Happen.
Nadja was mine.
“And the thought of you getting hurt because of me, Frankie—” She swallowed audibly and shook her head slowly. “—I can’t bear it. That’s why I let my father take me away. That’s why I agreed to go without a fight.” Her voice caught on that last word. “I loved you too much to see anything happen to you.” She looked down at her lap, and all I wanted to do was go to her, pull her in close, and hold her. “I love you too much.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” I said that a little too forcefully, too harshly. I saw the way she reacted, how she looked up at me, how her eyes widened marginally from my tone. There was no denying the declaration in those words.
I wasn’t letting her walk away. She just came back into my life, and that’s where she was staying. I’d talk to my brothers, see what the options were. I wasn’t a quitter, didn’t run and hide, but this was a psychopath and the fucking Russian mob. If taking Nadja and leaving meant she survived, I had no fucking problem being called a coward.
Because at the end of the day, I’d slaughter anything or anyone who tried to take her from me again.
22
Frankie
“I mean, we aren’t the good guys, Frankie, but we are nowhere equipped to go up against an organization like the fucking Russian mob.” Cullen’s voice was hard, his expression matching that.
Although I agreed with him and would have backed away on any other circumstance, there was no fucking way I was going to walk away from Nadja or let anyone take her from me.
I ran a hand over the back of my head and took a step back. We stood in the small living room of Dom’s lake house, a cabin he purchased months ago for himself and his woman as a weekend getaway. This whole domestic routine that each of my brothers was taking now that they were in love was something I would have scoffed at before meeting Nadja. But after her… after her had everything in my life changing.
So as I looked around and noticed the decor his woman used in the cabin, the flowers on the table, the pictures of them together hanging on the wall, I got it.
I wanted this too. With Nadja.
I understood. I got it.
I hadn’t wanted to leave Nadja alone at my place while I talked to my brothers about this and tried to come up with a plan, so she was currently sitting on the back deck. I didn’t want her hearing any of this shit, but I was too protective of her to let her out of my sight, even if I did have my place set up like Fort fucking Knox.
I walked over to the picture window and looked out to the deck, seeing Nadja lounging on one of the chairs, her feet kicked up on the ottoman, her eyes closed. She looked relaxed… at peace. I felt myself relax as well, seeing her like this, and I even exhaled in contentment.
“Goddamn,” I heard Wilder say under his breath, and I looked over my shoulder to scowl at him. “I think you’re in so fucking deep, deeper than all of us put together.” He looked between Dom and Cullen before settling his eyes back on me.
I didn’t bother saying anything. My brothers were blind if they thought they weren’t just as possessive and obsessed with their women as I was with Nadja. Although they knew of her existence back in the day, I hadn’t told them the extent of how deep my feelings went. It wasn’t because I didn’t want them to know, but more so because I was protective and selfish of everything that had to do with her.
Experiences and emotions with Nadja… those were mine. I kept them to myself, too selfish to let my brothers in on it.
I turned to face them, seeing they already had their attention on me. I looked each one in the eye, knowing what I was about to say would be the truth for every single one of them.
“You tell me, and look me in the fucking eye as you say it, that if any of your females were in this deep, you wouldn’t do everything and anything to make sure they were safe.” There was a heavy bit of silence, but I already knew the answers before they responded. “Fucking try to lie to me.”
Wilder exhaled slowly. Dom’s shoulders relaxed. And although Cullen was tense all the fucking time, I saw the way his expression softened. And then they all nodded in unison.
“Yeah, we would all do whatever we could to make sure our women were okay.” Wilder took a step forward and clapped me on the back.
I stared into my twin’s eyes, identical ones to mine.
“But this is organized crime, brother.” Dom was the one to speak now, and I turned my attention to him.
“We’re just four hoodlums who came from a broken, abused home, Frankie,” Cullen interjected. “We don’t have the connections or the strength to go up against something like this.”
I knew this. And although I wasn’t sure that the bratva would actually get involved where Nadja was concerned, if Maximillian was intent on coming after her, and therefore leading the Russian mob to our doorstep, I had to be prepared.
“But we have your back no matter what. We support you fully,” Wilder said and gave my shoulder a squeeze. Dom and Cullen grunted in agreement.
“Then I have to go,” I said honestly, evenly. “I have to take her far away, not just to protect her, but to protect all of you as well. I don’t want anyone getting hurt over this, least of all you guys or your women.” There was another bea
t of silence, and then Cullen rubbed his hand over the back of his head. Dom shifted on his feet. And I felt Wilder’s hand tighten once more on my shoulder.
They knew this was the only option. I wasn’t a runner, none of us were, but when faced with a rock and a hard place, the only thing I could do was push that fucking rock aside and take the woman I loved as far away from the hard place as I could.
23
Maximillian
Tits and Ass.
That’s what this strip club was called. It was filthy and sleazy, with a sticky floor, dim lighting that didn’t do anything but make it seem even more cheap, and the old stench of stale cigarette smoke lingered in the air. It was a far cry from the establishments I was accustomed to visiting, but it served its purpose.
During the wedding, one of my men had been assigned to keep an eye on Nadja, to keep her close, because I knew she’d run. As soon as the mayhem ensued, she’d become skittish, like a rabbit knowing hunters were near.
I gritted my teeth as rage filled me at the fact that she still slipped away. I brought the glass to my mouth and downed the whiskey. It was their top-shelf kind, but you could taste the cheapness laced in the alcohol. I curled my lip in disgust and set the glass back on the table. A naked woman sauntered over to take the empty glass and set it on her tray. She wore nothing but a G-string, her nipples covered with bright white tassels.
“Another,” I said without paying her any attention.
Marco, the man assigned to keep tabs on Nadja at the wedding, had gotten his throat opened up for failing at his task. He’d made more work for me, and when you fucked me over, couldn’t follow directions and orders, you were finished.
It was the rules of our world.
They didn’t call me a monster for nothing.
She’d gone quiet, gone underground for a good chunk of time. I knew she wouldn’t leave the country right away, so I set out feelers. She’d gotten help from one of Petrov’s employees, an older woman who had some pretty deep fucking connections herself. I could have taken out Marina right away, but I watched her, waited to see when she’d make contact with my woman.