Corrupted Love: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mackenzies Book 2)

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Corrupted Love: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mackenzies Book 2) Page 8

by Elizabeth Knox


  From: Liam

  She’ll be here in five minutes. I told her to look for you.

  I wonder what else he told her, considering the woman is supposed to be looking for me. Taking a sip of my vodka, the smooth liquid slides over my tongue, forcing me to close my eyes for a moment while I enjoy this. Most of the time, I don’t. Hell, it usually isn’t even in American bars, but thank fuck it was today. I had to ask for my drink very specifically when I got here because there’s only a few brands I’ll drink. Americans and Swedes make their vodka too strong. It’s sickening. But not us Russians. We distill it until it’s so smooth it tastes like water.

  I open my eyes to find a redhead walking from the same area Liam and Luca came from not even a minute ago. Mmm, it seems like this one has a hard time waiting. If her hair wasn’t confirmation enough, the red splotches at the top of her lace dress confirm it. Though, I’m stuck staring at her intensely.

  Sure, I’ve seen photos of this woman before. Once my father took credit for killing Sloane and Greer’s godparents and gave us the small lead we needed, I looked up everything I could about them. I won’t ever justify what he did because it was shitty. Those people didn’t have to die. There’s no doubt in my mind he did it to get a reaction from Desmond, though. And I’m sure whenever he catches wind, I’m getting close to the Mackenzies he’s going to ask that I con Desmond into letting me know how he felt about certain issues.

  Her hair drops in delicate waves just below her shoulders, the color being some sort of mixture between pumpkin and vibrant red. Liam almost has the same sort of shade, but his is a bit more brown and much duller. As she grows closer, I notice the way her lips aren’t smothered with makeup, I can see the ridges and curves in the detail, coming to the realization that the strawberry color is natural. Damn, this girl is hot. But not just the sexy type of hot, the natural beauty you come into contact with every now and again. I guess in this day and age it’s becoming more of a rarity with women getting boob jobs, lifting their asses, Botox, and fillers. I bet I don’t even know about some of the other stuff they’re doing these days.

  “Hi, Liam told me you were his friend.” She says in the most adorable mid-western accent I’ve ever heard. Don’t really know what I expected her to sound like, but this isn’t it.

  I nod, “Yeah, I’m Aleksandr.” I extend a hand and she shakes it.

  “Please, feel free to have a seat.” I say, offering my hand for her to hold onto while she adjusts herself onto the barstool beside me. I wave my alternate hand up and flag down the bartender, “Could I get another of what I’m having?”

  He nods in confirmation and prepares the drink.

  “What are you drinking?” Greer laughs.

  “Vodka, it’s Russian. Better than this American shit.” I snicker, my own accent coming out a bit huskier than I’m used to. “You know, you never introduced yourself.” I add, teasing her just a bit. I’m the type of cat who likes to play with my mouse before I eat it.

  “Why would I need to? You know who I am.” Well, I wasn’t expecting sassiness to come oozing out of her this quickly. Can’t say I’m annoyed, though. I like a woman with spirit.

  “True, very true. So, what did your brother tell you about me?” Considering Liam didn’t give me any heads up on what he was telling Greer, she’s going to be the messenger.

  The bartender comes over with Greer’s vodka and she immediately takes a sip. Coughing as it goes down, “God. This is . . . interesting.”

  I can’t help but stifle out a chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll grow to like it. It’s my poison of choice.”

  “Ah. So, you asked what Liam told me. The answer is nothing. He said two of his friends were going to watch over Sloane and I at the safehouse, but otherwise I don’t know anything besides your name.”

  I blink a few times, processing what she’s just said. “A safehouse, huh?” A safehouse this fucker didn’t tell me jack shit about.

  “Yep, but from the looks of it you haven’t spoken to my brother.” From the way the corner of her lips tug upward I can sense she’s finding some amusement in this.

  “We’ve only spoken briefly over the last couple days,” I admit, figuring I don’t have to go in and tell her exactly what we’ve discussed. The less she knows, the better.

  “Sounds like something I’d say about my sister,” she giggles lightly, keeping crazy eye contact. I mean, I’ve met loads of women and I’ve bedded quite a few. But there comes a time where they aren’t too crazy about staring into your eyes the entire time. I can’t say that for Greer Mackenzie, though. It’s almost intimidating. “Are you and Liam close?”

  I think about how to answer her, remembering so much from when Liam and I were kids. For a couple years we grew up alongside each other. Anyone from the outside looking in would’ve assumed Liam, Aleksei, and I were all brothers based on our banter and how well we got along.

  I figure I can answer her honestly and it won’t cause any harm. “We were very close as children. But over the years distance came between us.”

  She nods like she understands. “It’s unfortunately a part of getting older. At least that’s what I’m told. People separate over time and whatnot, but thankfully I haven’t had the experience quite yet.”

  My phone vibrates so I take it out and look down at the screen for a second, seeing it’s from Liam. “Apologies, Greer. Your brother’s just texted me. One minute.”

  “Take your time,” she comments.

  From: Liam

  I’ll send you the address tomorrow. There will be a plane waiting at LAX at ten in the morning. Make sure they get on it and that you and Aleksei are on it as well. I privately charted it under your name, so your father won’t think anything of it. Keep them at the house in Vermont unless Greer has a job. Otherwise, don’t go out of the house. I’ll have everything they need there for them.

  Damn. Someone’s getting controlling all of a sudden.

  To: Liam

  No problem. Question though, why didn’t you tell Greer who I am?

  I wait for a moment before the three little dots appear on the screen, indicating he’s typing.

  From: Liam

  I don’t know my sister well, but any woman in her position will look at you differently when they find out you’re the son of the man who killed her mother.

  He isn’t wrong, and if I’m lucky Greer will begin to care for me over these next few weeks. I know there will come a time when I have to tell her who I am. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I hope she can overlook it. I have a plan when it comes to her and I, and if we can’t be together, the alliance I’m trying to form will come falling apart.

  I refuse to allow it to happen.

  After everything our families have been through, we need to turn over a new leaf. If we don’t, our issues will end up being the demise for us all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  If I was meant to be controlled, I would’ve come with a remote

  ~ Unknown

  Greer

  February 12th

  Sloane’s barely been making eye contact with me since the beginning of February. The night I met with Liam it was like she didn’t view me as family anymore. To say it hurts would be a drastic understatement. On one hand, I understand completely why she’s so frustrated. I willingly met with one of the people who could’ve made the choice to be actively involved in our lives and it feels like a betrayal to her. Leti and our uncle Alejandro knew the risks, yet they were always involved in our lives. Our father and brother never did that. I’m not even sure they tried, and I so understand her pain. If anyone understands what she feels, it’s me. But there comes a time where you have to let go of the past. At least that’s the way I look at it.

  Even though we’re twins, Sloane and I are drastically different. So different that when growing up people doubted we were even related. She’s the callous, feisty one, while I’m more extroverted and kinder. She’s the yin to my yang in a sense.

  I settle down
into the plush chair in our abode in Vermont. It’s an odd-looking thing. It might be ten years old for all I know, but it’s solid with a fluffy cushion on the top. It’s become my one place I love to go when drinking my coffee every morning on the second floor of this house.

  Sloane spends most of her time downstairs, so I’ve been trying to keep my distance. If I don’t respect the fact she wants to have some space between the two of us, well, she’ll never come around.

  Footsteps come from behind me so I turn my neck to see Aleksandr coming up the stairs. Ah, that’s another one who’s been super quiet. The most he spoke to me was the night I met him at the bar. Since then, things have been radio silent between the two of us. I mean, we speak every now and again when I cook dinner, or when we’re both grabbing our coffee. But otherwise, nothing.

  I turn my head and look back out through the window, down to the frozen pond on the property and the rushing creek that flows through it. I’ve never had the liberty of being in a pristine place like this before. While I’ve been to places like New York, Los Angeles, Miami and more, my work doesn’t often pull me down to beautiful places like this. It’s a shame, given how serene it is. Until we came here, I never understood why people wanted to get out of the city and take a break in the countryside or wilderness. Now I can’t say the same.

  Not only is the air thinner from lack of pollution, but it’s quieter. There’re no loud clubs with music that can be heard for blocks. No fights breaking out below your window. Actually, that might be a lie. I did see two squirrels about ready to tear each other’s throats out yesterday over an acorn.

  Lifting the cup in my hands, I bring the hot coffee to my lips and revel in the liquid jolting me alive. “I’m wondering if you’ve been avoiding me,” Aleksandr jokes, taking a seat beside me in the other armchair. At the top of the stairs here it’s like a small reading nook area, positioned in a great area where we can see the entire property. Whoever decided to put the chairs here might’ve been a genius.

  Naturally, I roll my eyes. What a failed attempt at a joke. “Nope, just keeping to myself. It’s not like you’ve been super chatty either you know, so how about you don’t shift all the blame on me? Sloane’s doing enough of that these days.”

  I take another sip of my coffee, knowing I’m being such an asshole because I’ve hardly had any today.

  “Well, I didn’t think you had an ounce of spunk in you. Sloane struck me as the sassy sister.”

  I turn my head to look at him, blinking in disbelief. “You’re only saying that because she actually struck you.”

  “I might be. Still can’t believe she slapped me that hard.”

  “How’s your brother?” Sloane grabbed a knife at the condo and cut his face with it when he was trying to get her to come with us. She didn’t want to go. Actually, she refused to go. It was so bad that Leti had to tranquilize her when she wasn’t looking. Sloane wasn’t letting me anywhere close to her, and she sure as hell wasn’t letting Aleksandr, or his brother, Aleksei, near her as well. Needless to say, Sloane isn’t exactly happy with anyone right now.

  “Aleksei will live. He’s experienced far worse than your sister’s failed attempt.”

  “Failed attempt?” I furrow my brows, not understanding what he’s getting at.

  “At killing him. She would’ve you know. She’s a rabid creature,” A smile pulls at his lips, causing me to stifle a laugh. I know it’s rude to laugh at what he just said, but Aleksandr isn’t wrong.

  I clear my throat and decide it’s best to change the subject. Lord knows I don’t need Sloane or Leti eavesdropping on me. That’s right, my dear cousin decided to tag along. Aleksandr tried to tell her back at our condo how she couldn’t, but Leti responded in typical Leti fashion. She pointed a finger in his face and told him we don’t go anywhere she doesn’t. She’s more of our triplet than a cousin if you ask me.

  “When are we leaving for Atlanta?” I ask Aleksandr, knowing he’s going with me today. I have a shoot lined up with Brooklyn Steele’s makeup line. She’s revealing a new smokey palette, featuring vibrant purples, deep sea green hues and a variety of other pigments. I haven’t seen it yet, but I’m so stoked to get a good look at it. I might be a little bit more excited to get back into civilization, but I’m not going to utter a word about that to anyone. I can only leave for work while we’re waiting for the green light to head to Ireland.

  He tilts his right hand toward him to glance down at his gold watch. “We’ll head to the private air strip in about an hour. Are you packed?”

  I nod, “Yep.”

  “Perfect. You know, I think you’re itching to get out of here.”

  “Oh, what would give you that idea?” I reply in a snarky manner. No one likes to be cooped up. Absolutely no one.

  “Tsk, afraid I don’t have enough time to pull out the list.”

  I smack him on the shoulder, “Wow. You’re becoming quite the dick.”

  “Dick? I was going for smartass, but I’ll take it.” Aleksandr jokes with a smile.

  “Has Sloane been rubbing off on you?” I question.

  “God no, then I’d be horrendous.”

  “That you would,” I confirm.

  Aleksandr keeps his eyes trained on mine for a few moments. “What do you say about getting out of here and sneaking off into town? I saw a nice coffee shop when we were heading in. Looked like they fix a nice cup, or maybe all that frilly stuff you’re into.”

  “Are you trying to get shoved again?”

  He wiggles his eyebrows, “You never know. Maybe I’m into that shit.”

  I can’t hold back my laughter, but ironically enough I don’t feel like I need to. Nodding my head, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a cup before we take off. It might do me some good to get out of here anyway.” I rise from my chair and walk a few feet away, “I’ll go get changed and get my bag. Meet you downstairs in ten?”

  Aleksandr nods, “Sounds perfect.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  There is one rule, above all others, for being a man. Whatever comes, face it on your feet

  ~ Robert Jordan

  Aleksandr

  February 12th

  Fuck. I can’t figure out if my suggestion was smart or stupid. I need to be very careful how we do this. If we go out and I act like I have no worries in the world, she’ll either start to figure out we don’t really have any reason to be worried, or that I’m an egotistical ass. I might be a little bit of the latter, but Greer doesn’t need to know that. Not yet at least.

  I have a small suitcase prepared with two suits, some loungewear and a few essentials for my every day routine. Though, Greer comes down from the top of the stairs with a massive Louis Vuitton bag. I’m sure it’s packed with far too much than she actually needs, as is the usual with women. I haven’t met one that can pack what’s actually needed for a trip. We’re only going to be in Atlanta for a little over a day, so we really only need one and some loungewear if you ask me.

  She comes down the stairs and furrows her brows when she spots my bag. “Do you have enough?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I stifle out a chortle, completely judging the way her bag is packed to the extreme. It’s bulging out in specific areas, confirming she’s packed far too much than what’s needed.

  “Oh, don’t be salty, Aleksandr.” Greer giggles, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

  The two of us walk to the door in complete silence, and I grab the keys to the Audi A3. It’s been here at the house since early this year according to Liam. He keeps the home stocked with two cars, plus has a weekly staff who comes to clean the joint. On top of that, we came in to find it completely stocked with whatever we needed. I asked him about the choice in car, a little shocked he purchased something a tad bit on the fancy side for someone who’s trying to have the people here lay low. Turns out that cars like this are common in this area of the United States.

  With the keys in hand, I pick up my bag and grab onto hers. “Oh, you
don’t have to do that.” Greer tells me as I make my way over to the door.

  I give her a look that warns her not to start this nonsense. Even with Mischa, I did the same thing. If you ask me, it’s rude to make a woman carry her own luggage and I’m not looking to be an asshole.

  “C’mon, let’s go get the coffee.” I say, ignoring what she’s said completely.

  Greer comes up behind me while I’m making my way out the front door. She shuts it behind her and we both walk side-by-side along the stone path. “So, Sloane, Leti and Aleksei are all staying together?” She questions.

  I nod. “Yep. Want to take bets on who will kill him first?” I joke.

  “Sloane. Most definitely Sloane. From what I can gather she isn’t a fan of your brother.” I want so badly to be a smartass and ask if the knife incident gave her that idea, but I bite my tongue.

  “You’re right about that,” we make our way to the Audi and I open the trunk, putting her bag in first and then my own. Greer goes over to the passenger side of the car while I shut the trunk lid and then go over to the driver’s side. After I slide in and turn on the beast, I buckle up and we head down the long tree lined lane that leads back to this baby mansion.

  It’s a three-story red brick home with an odd porch on the front. It almost seems elevated, but there’s no roof to the porch. In a lot of American states, I see those wrap around porches. Specifically, the south. They’re everywhere you turn.

  The first night at the house I got lost a couple times. It’s about the same size as my father’s home in Yerbogachen. As we reach the end of the driveway, I turn left and start heading down the back roads. In about ten minutes or so we should reach the town. Luckily for us, the home is nestled back in the thick woods. You can’t even see the house from the road this time of year, even with the leaves off the trees.

 

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