The Volkov Brothers Series: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  “Well, I think you run awfully hot and cold with me for a woman who has no interest in a man.” He moved quickly to block her entry, placing one hand on the knob as he pulled his weapon with the other. “Me first.”

  Daphne gave him a disgusted look. “Selfish to the end.”

  “Not always.” He gave her a slow once-over and a suggestive smile. “I take care of my woman.”

  “I bet you do, caveman.” The snark in her tone didn’t piss him off. Just the opposite, in fact. It challenged him to prove how wrong she was, all night long, over and over until she’d come so many times she couldn’t remember her own name, let alone this silly battle between them.

  “Will you two lovebirds get the fuck out of here so I can go to sleep?” Kaz said, pushing past them and effectively killing any romance in the moment as she shuffled toward the sofa. “I’ve got the early security shift in the morning.”

  Nik gave his brother a look then shoved inside the apartment, Daphne following close on his heels. Everything looked as they’d left it. He did a quick recon of the place then clicked on the safety and holstered his weapon once more. “It’s clear.”

  “Huge shocker.” Daphne stalked past him and into the kitchen, searching through the bare cupboards and fridge. “There’s nothing here to eat. I’m starving.”

  As if on cue, a knock sounded on the door. Nik walked over and opened it to take the bag from an annoyed looking Rez, then locked it again. He turned back to Daphne and bowed with a flourish. “Your wish is my command.”

  “What the hell is that?” she asked, inching closer as the delicious smells of garlic and spice drifted through the air.

  “Dinner.” Nik grinned. “I told you I take care of my guests. Hope you like Chinese.”

  “Maybe.” The way Daphne licked her lips and stared greedily at the brown paper bag all but screamed yes. “Is it poisoned?”

  “If it was, would I tell you?” he countered.

  They stared at each other across the small space until finally she inched closer again. He opened one of the containers and grabbed an eggroll, devouring half of it in one bite. “No poison. See? My goal is to keep you alive and healthy, not put you six-feet-under. Da?”

  She exhaled slowly and nodded. “Fine. What did you get?”

  “Garlic shrimp, Kung Pao chicken, vegetable lo mien, fried rice, eggrolls.” He named each container as he pulled it from the sack. Finally, he pulled out two sets of chopsticks and a couple of fortune cookies. “Can you grab plates and napkins?”

  She reluctantly headed back into the kitchen while he ran out into the lounge again to grab them a couple of sodas. When he came back into the apartment, she was already seated at the small kitchen table, food piled high on her plate, ready to eat. He took off his jacket and tie, toed off his shoes again, then sat across from her dishing up his own food. The tension slowly drained from his body as they ate in silence and Nik was happy to see that Daphne wasn’t one of those rail-thin women who did nothing but pick at their food. She ate with gusto and passion, small moans of satisfaction escaping her pretty pink lips. It made a man wonder what else she did with such passion and if he could make her utter those delectable sounds under other…circumstances.

  Finally, she pushed her plate away and sat back. “That was delicious. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. And you were wrong.”

  “Wrong? About what?”

  “I am not a drug pusher.”

  Daphne frowned. “Yeah, right. Your friend Tolya was shot dead while he was dealing and he’s part of your gang. You expect me to believe you’re not involved in that too?”

  “My ‘gang’ as you call it, has many different parts or subsidiaries, as you might think of them. The area I am in charge of has nothing to do with illegal substances of any kind. I specialize in imported luxury goods—artwork, jewels, antiquities.”

  “Right.” She snorted. “And imported is a fancy word for stolen, yes?”

  “The dealers I purchase from assure me they have all the legal provenance for the pieces.” He flashed what he hoped was a charming smile. “Why should I argue?”

  “Why indeed?” She shook her head then watched him, her gaze narrowed and wary. “I can’t stay here for five weeks. You have to understand that. It’s crazy.”

  “What’s crazy is you thinking you have a choice in the matter,” he said, standing and taking their plates to the sink. “I am the one in charge here, not you.”

  “Right.” She shoved the rest of the containers back in the bag and put it all in the fridge. “Last time I checked we were still in the US, not Siberia. This is a free country and you can’t order me in like goddamned takeout.”

  “I swore an oath to protect you,” Nik said, rinsing the dishes before shoving them into the dishwasher with more force than was necessary. Usually household chores helped calm and center him—a holdover from his childhood when he’d help his mom—but tonight it all just seemed to get on his nerves. In fact, everything seemed heightened whenever he was around his bewitching, bewildering new assignment. That’s how he’d decided to think of Daphne, as a job, nothing more. Because if he let himself go down the other path with her any further than he already had—if he let himself get even the slightest bit emotionally involved, things could end very badly—for him, for her, for them.

  He’d seen it happen with his own parents. His father, Dima, had adored his wife and did romantic things for her all the time—buying her expensive presents, hiring street performers to sing her favorite love songs on her birthday. Then, when young Nik was just eleven, his father’s extravagant spending had gotten him in trouble. He’d stepped over the line, stealing Bratva money to cover his debts, mixing business with pleasure. His father had been murdered for those debts, for his lapse in judgment. It was a lesson Nik never forgot.

  “You will stay here, where it’s safe,” he bit out, slamming the dishwasher closed. “Until after the trial. End of discussion. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal.” He had to give it to Daphne. She was brave. She didn’t back down an inch from him, instead moving closer until they were toe-to-toe. “What about my bills? My rent? My mother’s nursing home bill that’s due again in two weeks? How the hell am I supposed to pay for everything if I’m not working?”

  “Already handled.” He leaned closer, causing her to back up a step. “I have paid your rent for the next three months and also your mother’s healthcare costs. I have even ordered Kaz to visit the nursing home every day and bring her fresh flowers.”

  For each word he said, Nik took another step forward while Daphne took a step back, until she was cornered between the granite countertop and him. Nik leaned closer, hoping to put an end to her arguments once and for all. Intimidation wasn’t his usual style, not with women anyway, but he needed her to admit he was right and agree to his terms.

  She placed her hand against his chest to stop him and heat radiated outward from their point of contact, sending shimmers of awareness through his nerve endings. “You have to be joking. That’s thousands of dollars.”

  “I never joke about money.” Unable to help himself, he covered her hand with his, pressing it tight against his pounding heart. “Or about love.”

  Her eyes widened as she stared at him, an answering spark of heat and awareness in their bright blue depths. “Y-you don’t love me. W-we just met.”

  “True,” he said, his tone gentling despite his resolve. “You are important to me, because of Tolya. The love I am speaking of is for him. But until this mess is done, you are my responsibility, the most important thing in my life. And I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe.”

  When he’d said that the love he spoke of was for Tolya, he’d seen some of the spark, some of the heat go out of Daphne’s eyes, and he wasn’t going to lie—he didn’t like seeing it extinguish. Now, as her gaze flickered from his face to the gun holstered at his waist then back again, she shuddered and he squeezed her hand tighter.

  “I
witnessed a murder, but now it feels like I’m the one being punished.” Her voice caught and tears welled in her eyes, though she never let them fall. “I just want my life back, my normal, boring, everyday existence. I wish I’d never seen that horrible—”

  “There is no such thing as normal in my world, baloven’.” He dipped his head and inhaled the sweet smell of her flowery shampoo. “I am sorry for what you are enduring but you must understand that this is for the best. Hornbull is a very dangerous man, but I am far, far worse.”

  She shivered again and he let her go fast, before he couldn’t let her go at all.

  “Never forget that, baloven’.” Nik strode back into the living room and grabbed his coat and tie, shoving his feet into his shoes again before heading for the door, saying it as much for her as for himself. “And never, ever assume anything. That’s what got Tolya killed. I’m going out for a bit, but I’ll be back later to check on you.”

  With that he left, locking the apartment door behind him, Daphne’s flushed face etched in his mind for eternity.

  4

  Daphne

  Four days later, Daphne was going stir-crazy. She was jogging on the treadmill and working up a sweat, hoping the exercise would ease some of her stress. Every so often Nik or Kaz would stop in and make a security sweep and Rez dropped off groceries or meals for her once a day, but otherwise that was the only human contact she’d had.

  Nik and Kaz’s stops weren’t so bad. At least they tried to talk with her or entertain her, but Rez always gave her the creeps. It wasn’t anything he’d done to her specifically, just the smarmy look in his eyes whenever he looked at her. Then there was the offer he’d made—saying he could give her something to help the time pass faster until the trial. She shuddered and ran faster. Daphne wasn’t sure if he was suggesting drugs or a roll in the sheets. Either way, she wasn’t going anywhere near that.

  The days weren’t so bad. She could watch TV or play video games, but the nights were harder. Nik hadn’t come by for dinner since that first night, so she ate alone, staring at the walls or in front of the news downstairs. Nothing but bad news all around these days. And with no windows, her internal clock was off-kilter, causing her to get up at odd hours and fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon. Nope. Life in this safe house was not like a spa at all.

  To make matters worse, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Nik. As her feet and her heart pounded, Daphne wondered if it were possible to develop Stockholm Syndrome for a man you never saw. Sure, the few times she’d seen him he’d been charming enough and he’d always been sure to keep her updated on her mom’s well-being—fine—and dropped off her mail—the family leave paperwork had come through just like he’d said. But still she couldn’t purge her anger toward him. He’d claimed to be protecting her, but she was still stranded in this place with no way out.

  The treadmill beeped loudly and slowed to a stop and she climbed back upstairs to shower and change. She should’ve paid more attention to what was being packed in her suitcase because what she had for wardrobe choices looked more like a party girl than a princess. Lots of cocktail dresses and spandex workout clothes and few comfy sweats or T-shirts and jeans. Guess that would teach her to let a mafia thug pick out her clothes. With limited options available and laundry stacked by the small washer and dryer in the downstairs bathroom, she chose a purple knit dress for the day. As she shrugged into the thing, then stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t help thinking of the character Joan in the Mad Men series and wishing once more for her cozy sweaters and well-worn jeans. Anything to make her feel more like herself and less like a Russian tart. She twined her hair up into a messy French twist and secured it with a pencil from her bag.

  With a sigh, she walked out of the bedroom and found Rezan in the kitchen loading her groceries for the day. He didn’t say anything, just gave her a long, lascivious look before departing quickly. She finished putting the food away, then glanced into the living room. Her breath caught. The apartment door was slightly ajar. Normally, Nik and Kaz were very careful to ensure it was locked at all times, but apparently Rez was not so careful. Or he’d left it open on purpose to lure her out to him. Ugh. She couldn’t worry about that now. Not with freedom so tantalizingly close. She could get out, maybe find a way to call a cab and get over to see her mother—if she could get past the guards Nik had stationed there to protect her mother—then get somewhere safe where the Bratva couldn’t find her.

  She went back into the bedroom and grabbed her purse and useless phone from its charger, then slowly eased the front door open. Surprisingly, the lounge area was empty. After easing the apartment door shut behind her, she rushed over to the metal door leading out to the pawn shop and eased that one open as well. Through the crack she saw Mohawk girl back behind the counter, chatting with some punk high school kid. Several other kids milled about the store, going through the racks of vintage clothes and cooing over the jewelry case. Seizing the opportunity for distraction, Daphne snuck out and hid behind a nearby case of used guitars and other instruments for sale. Breath held, she eased her way toward the front door, her gaze darting and her nerves on edge. She constantly checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was following, her pulse pounding loud in her ears and her mouth dry as cotton. Finally, she got to the exit and darted out as another group of teens walked in. She had no idea what time it was, but it must’ve been mid-afternoon if the kids were out of school.

  Once on the sidewalk, she quickly headed for the busy street nearby and pulled out her cell phone. Yep. Three-thirty p.m. At the corner, she hailed a cab and gave the driver directions to her mother’s nursing home. It wasn’t until they’d gotten several miles away before she relaxed and could breathe normally again. She’d done it. She’d gotten out. Now, all she had to do was stay out of that windowless shoebox until the trial. And yes, safety was an issue, but then again, perhaps Nik had been exaggerating a tiny bit. Sure, Hornbull had shown up that day on the street, but maybe he’d only been drawn there by the crowds of onlookers watching Nik cart her down the street like a sack of potatoes.

  The car pulled up in front of the Arbor Glen Retirement and Rehab center on Chicago’s northeast side about half an hour later. Daphne paid the driver and got out, careful to make sure she didn’t spot Nik or Kaz in the parking lot before rushing inside the automated front doors and into the lobby. She was actually glad she’d worn the purple dress now. It wasn’t her usual style, nor was wearing her hair up, so hopefully it would be enough to keep her from being recognized by the guards Nik had said were stationed around the nursing home. She kept her head down as she hurried through the maze of hallways, dodging nursing staff and residents with wheelchairs and walkers until she reached the dementia ward near the back of the place. She signed in at the desk then headed to her mother’s room. Inside, her mom sat in the same rocking chair in front of the windows where Daphne always found her, mumbling to herself as she stared out the window, her knitting strewn across her lap. She noticed the array of fresh cut flowers on the shelf by the bedside. Guess Nik had told her the truth after all about her mom being well looked after. Her heart warmed a bit, before she shoved her unwanted tenderness toward the guy aside.

  Funny how most days her mom couldn’t remember her own daughter’s name, yet the intricacies of knitting stayed with her. Dementia was a cruel disease.

  She closed the door behind her and walked over to pull a chair up beside her mom’s. “Hi, Mama.”

  Sharon Allman looked over at her daughter, her gray eyes blank and her mouth slack. Not a spark of recognition at all. If Daphne closed her eyes she could still picture that day when she’d been seven and one of her friends came over to play. Her mom had been going through a manic phase of her bi-polar depression and she’d been a basket case. So much so that she’d scared off Daphne’s friend and left her alone to deal with her mother’s mess. That whole thing had left her permanently shaken and ever since had left her longing for a safe, calm, r
eliable person to care for her. The kind of person she tried to be for her mom.

  “I’m glad to see you’re doing all right, Mama.” Daphne picked up the knitting and looked at it. “What are you making?”

  A nurse came in to clean, propping the door open and setting Daphne’s nerves on alert. People passed by in the hallway and she constantly kept checking to make sure she hadn’t been spotted. She ran her fingers over the soft pastel pink lace and smiled, fighting back the sting of unshed tears. “I’m sorry I missed visiting you the past couple of days. I’ve been… busy.”

  Sharon frowned, snatching back her knitting. “That’s mine.”

  “I know, Mama,” Daphne said, swiping her hand over her damp cheeks,

  “Who are you?” her mother asked, frowning.

  “I’m Daphne, Mama. Your daughter.” The nurse across the room caught her eye and gave her a small, sad smile. “Remember?”

  “My daughter?”

  “Ah, there you are, darling.” Startled, Daphne looked up to see Nik striding across the room toward her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  He took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “We need to leave now or were going to be late.” Nik sent the nurse a killer smile and she giggled, either not noticing or not caring about Nik’s mafia tattoos and what they meant. Daphne rolled her eyes. “So nice to see you again, Mama.”

  Sharon looked up at him and scowled. “Who the hell are you?”

  Daphne opened her mouth to answer, but never got the chance. Nik hauled her out into the bustling hallway again, his grip tight on her arm as he led her toward the nearest exit. Fury was etched into his tight jaw and steely stare. “What the hell were you thinking, putting yourself in danger like that?”

  “My mother needs me, dammit!” She tried to free herself, to no avail. “I told you I can’t just up and leave for five weeks. And I need to say goodbye to her before we leave. Where are you taking me now? Maximum security prison?”