Until the End

by London Miller

  He had made a mistake chasing after her, blindly believing that everything would be okay. If her happiness and peace meant he had to live without her, he would push her away for her own good.

  “His debt can never truly be paid off,” Mishca said calmly, turning off the emotions that plagued him when she was around. “He borrowed half a million from the Bratva, that’s not including the interest or whatever else Mikhail has tacked on.”

  “Give me a number.”

  “Seven-hundred, maybe more. I don’t know for sure.”

  “Find out.”

  “It’s not going to make difference.”

  She got out of the bed, minding her shoulder, coming over to stand in front of him, so close that he could practically feel the rage pouring out of her. “You call your father, you find out the amount it would take to sever the doctor’s ties to you and I will pay it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  “And if Mikhail doesn’t agree?”

  “Then you find a way to make him!” she screamed at him, her voice breaking. “How could you do this? Wasn’t one family enough? You have to destroy another one?”

  He flinched at her words, but the storm was still raging inside of her, but he continued on. This was for her own good.

  “The choice is theirs. No one forces them to take the money, nor are there any secrets about the way we do business. Don’t lay the blame at my feet.”

  That had its desired effect.

  She didn’t attack him like he was expecting, she just stared at him with those uncanny eyes of her. It took everything in him not to look away.

  “He’s not Cameron,” he whispered. “I know an apology will never be enough, but I won’t stop saying it until you believe me. Even if that means I can’t have you.” The last part slipped out before he could stop it.

  “Mish, I killed someone.” And he could see it eating at her though she tried to stay calm. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t even know who I am, but I can’t just sit back and watch this happen right in front of me.”

  “You have no say in the matter. Just because we sleep together does not give you the right to question me.”

  In that moment, he felt just like his father, but if he was going to do this, he had to do it the right way.

  “Come.”

  She didn’t argue with him. He didn’t even think there was any fight left in her. He only caught a glimpse of her face as she climbed back on the bed, allowing him to pull the covers over her.

  It hurt. It physically pained him to say his next words. “This was a mistake, bringing you here, pursuing you from the beginning. Once I knew who you were, I should have let you go, spared you all this pain, but I wanted you still.” He cradled her face in his hands, memorizing her features, knowing this would be the last chance he was able.

  “I have to let you go.”

  He stepped away from her, running his fingers through his hair as he tore his gaze away from her, leaving her on the bed. “I’ll have Luka take you home in the morning. Don’t worry about the Albanians, I’ve taken care of that. I’ve taken care of everything. Just…be happy.”

  She hadn’t said another word the entire time he was in the room, her back to him. The distance between them never felt so great.

  He didn’t look back as he left, he couldn’t stand the idea of what she might have looked like laying there, crying silently at his callous words.

  It was the right thing to do, ending things, leaving her to enjoy the life Cameron had left for her. Even if it meant he lost his heart in the process.

  Naomi wiped a stray tear from her eye as she caught sight of one of the men she should have been avoiding at all costs.

  But she had never played by the rules and after her brief meeting with Mishca the night before, she needed to quell that feeling of sadness that plagued her since his rejection.

  The sadness, the…pitiful emotion was a weakness for her, standing in the way of the only thing left on her mind.

  Revenge.

  And there was only one way she could get what she wanted. No, she couldn’t keep the diamond—she valued her life too much—but she would be damned if she was the only one to lose everything.

  Her plan was fool proof. While she had spent most of her time with Jetmir, she knew enough about the youngest Besnik to have him play into his hands.

  Time to get started.

  The upscale gambling parlor was owned by a pair of Albanian immigrants. It was once a restaurant, but when money grew tight for them, and they were unable to continue payments to the mob, they were forced to give up the property.

  The guard didn’t bother asking for her name, judging her by her attire. He knocked twice on the giant door, a signal for the guard on the other side to open it.

  Naomi zeroed in on Brahim, knowing that slumped, defeated frame anywhere.

  Showtime.

  “Martini, please,” she told the bartender, boldly taking the seat next to Brahim.

  He looked up in surprise, blinking twice to make sure he was really seeing her. He began reaching into his coat, but she laid her hand over his.

  “No need for guns, Brahim darling. I come in peace.” Naomi accepted her drink with a smile, crossing her legs as she withdrew the olive from the glass, tapping it on the rim before taking it into her mouth. “Unless you’re into that type of thing, of course.”

  “What do you want?”

  “To return what is rightfully yours,” she said with a smile, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Djegia Flaka.”

  “I should call my brother,” Brahim stated already reaching for his phone.

  Naomi tightened her grip only slightly, rubbing her fingers over the back of his hand. “Or you could handle this yourself. Jetmir told me how you long to make a name for yourself amongst your,” —she waved her hand to the men around them—“peers. Why not get the diamond yourself? No one could doubt you then.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I came to New York, not because I wanted to escape your brother, but because I was forced. Mishca forced me to steal it and bring it to him or he would kill me.”

  “How do I know this to be true?”

  “Brahim, would I ever lie to you?”

  He actually seemed to consider this. He really was as gullible as they said.

  “Tell me where it is, now.”

  She saw the light in his eyes, the need to be more than he was. Checkmate.

  “Mishca already has it. You know he will never give it up, or even admit that he has it. The only way you can take it from him is by having leverage.”

  Brahim tapped the bar top with his fist, his eyes following the glass as she brought it to her lips.

  “We have nothing on the Russian. Are you offering yourself?”

  “No, no. He would never go for that…” She trailed off meaningfully, waiting for the moment she saw the defeat in his eyes before continuing. “But if you took the girl, he would give you anything you asked for.”

  “She is meaningless,” Brahim counted with a shake of his head. “They both said so.”

  “Do you truly believe Mishca would have confessed that to you, or even to your brother? He wanted to keep you away from her, to continue to lay the blame on me. He’s lying to you all.”

  “I thought as much.”

  Naomi had to stifle the urge to roll her eyes. She doubted Brahim thought of anything remotely clever.

  Taking out a slip of paper, she quickly scribbled an address on it. “She will be here later this evening. She’ll be alone since Mishca is expecting to meet me.”

  Hopping down, Naomi smoothed the front of her dress. “If you have any men you can trust, get the job done. Imagine what they will say about you? No longer will Jetmir be the leader of the family, you’ll have your own notoriety.”

  She left him there, watching her walk away.

  Outside, Naomi signaled for a taxi, putting on a pair of opaque sunglasses. Her work was done. With sus
picion off her for the time being, she could get a head start out of the country and be off the grid within twenty-four hours.

  She smiled to herself.

  Not only would she have her revenge on Mishca, but she would bring about mayhem that could never be subdued.

  Brahim turned the paper over in his hands, memorizing the address before tossing it in the garbage on his way out. He might not have trusted Naomi, but he had to admit that her plan was ingenious.

  The Russians would never expect it and he would finally have the respect he so rightfully deserved, but there was one thing he had to do. He had to tell Jetmir.

  He wanted to share this with him, as long as it was known that it was his idea.

  He and his right hand, Marco, drove back to the brownstone where Jetmir was. Brahim could hardly contain his excitement as he hurried inside, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. He ignored the laughter echoing behind him, knowing they wouldn’t be laughing for long.

  Brahim was never under the impression that any of Jetmir’s men respected him. He wasn’t remembered for the work he had accomplished, but for the mistakes he had made over the years.

  Out of thirteen assignments, only three of those were botched, but those three were worth far more.

  The first, he was meant to intercept a shipment of guns from Sicily to London, but during the theft, communications were scrambled, leaving the only remaining survivor opportunity to escape with the guns and detailed descriptions of Brahim and his men.

  Brahim didn’t think he had ever seen Jetmir so angry.

  The next time was an assassination attempt on a rival arms dealer, resulting in one of the biggest bloodbaths that Albania had ever seen. Brahim still didn’t know how he had fucked that one up.

  He found Jetmir in a back room, a whore sitting on his lap, whispering in his ear.

  Clearing his throat, Brahim looked to his brother, speaking so only he would hear. “Can I talk to you? It’s urgent.”

  Brahim had always had an uncanny knack for reading facial expressions, even if it where there for a second. It was also one thing he wished he didn’t notice. While it came in handy for discussing business arrangements, it was burden when he saw the resignation on his brother’s face.

  He had only ever wanted to make his brother proud of him, since no one else seemed to think highly of him. Even their father used to turn his nose down at him in favor of Jetmir.

  Staring at him for a while, Jetmir finally pushed the girl off of him, rising to his feet.

  Brahim followed Jetmir out into the hallway, ignoring the scantily clad whores that rushed past them, sneaking glances at Jetmir. While he was a menace to some, Jetmir was a ladies’ man, even with his scar.

  “What is it, Brahim?”

  “The Russians have been playing us, they’ve had the diamond all along. If we strike now, we—”

  “How do you know this?”

  He didn’t want to give away his source, knowing what Jetmir would think if he told him. “It is a hunch, but I know—”

  “Leave it.”

  Brahim scoffed, trying for another tactic. “But—”

  “I said, leave it,” Jetmir snapped, not bothering to keep his voice down, silencing the chatter in the other rooms, making Brahim to flush in embarrassment. “We have an agreement, the Russians and I, they will deliver as promised.”

  “What agreement?” Brahim asked frowning. “I do not recall you speaking with them.”

  “I handled it alone.”

  Brahim felt betrayal at his words. His brother had made a promise to him to never leave him out of the business deals, knowing that Brahim wanted to learn from him when the time came for him to lead the family business.

  “They are playing you, brother. I—”

  “Brahim.”

  He hated that condescending tone when Jetmir spoke to him like he was a child. It grated on every nerve he had.

  “This is no longer up for discussion. Do as your told.” Jetmir cupped his shoulder, trying to lessen the sting of his harsh words. “There will be other opportunities, give it time.”

  Jetmir brushed by him, returning to the back room. Brahim expected him to shoot down the idea in the beginning, but after revealing everything Naomi had told him, then Jetmir would be all for the idea.

  Yet, here he stood like an idiot, shunned by the only man these men respected.

  “She’s refusing to leave until she sees you.”

  “What?”

  Mishca was on his third glass of Vodka though the effects had yet to kick in. He couldn’t bring himself to even turn off the emotions long enough to focus on anything else. He was so out of it, he hadn’t even known Alex had been standing there for several minutes studying him.

  “You should probably go talk to her. I doubt you want Luka man-handling her.”

  Mishca dragged himself from the chair, stopping at the door to look back at his sister.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said rolling her eyes. “It would be no point in trying to keep you two apart. True love and blah blah blah.”

  “We ended things.”

  She laughed. She actually laughed at him, patting his shoulder. “Even I didn’t believe that would last.”

  Lifting the glass, he prepared to tip the rest of his drink into his mouth, but Alex snatched it from him, smiling as she drunk it down in a single gulp.

  “For luck.”

  He was too tired to rise to her bait.

  It took thirty-seven steps to get from his office to the bedroom. In those thirty-seven steps, he thought of every possible scenario Lauren would say to him once he was in her presence, and each one would break him.

  Luka shot out of the room, laughing in earnest as he ducked, a shoe flying past him, slamming against the wall.

  “I like her,” Luka said brushing by Mishca as he disappeared down the hall.

  Mishca hesitated as he peeked around the corner, trying to discern whether it was safe for him.

  Lauren was sitting, not looking at him as she bounced her leg, a sign that she was agitated.

  “Luka bothering you?” Mishca asked, tucking his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the wall.

  She smirked, the action lightening her eyes, momentarily overshadowing the darkness that was still there.

  “He’s insane.”

  That much everyone knew. “I thought you would be gone by now.”

  That melted away the happiness on her face. “I thought about what you said last night and I’ve decided that I respectfully disagree. We’re not ending things just because of a pissing match between you and your rival.”

  What. The. Fuck.

  It was like he was talking to someone entirely different. Did she not remember what happened the other night?

  “It won’t just be the Albanians,” Mishca said pointedly.

  “But I have you.”

  “I won’t always be around.”

  “Then Vlad or Luka will be there. They follow me around enough anyway.”

  “There’s always going to be something that will remind you of your father.”

  She sighed, crossing the room until she was in front of him. Reaching up, she touched his chest, over his heart.

  “Then I’ll deal with it.”

  “No.”

  “Now who’s the one running?” She asked softly, refusing to back down.

  “What are you not understanding?” Mishca asked exploding off the wall. “You could die.”

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  “I’m not.”

  “And you think it’ll make a difference now? I may not bear your mark, but everyone knows I’m yours. You can’t just erase that.” She shoved him, making him stumble back a step. “Your enemies, whoever they may be, aren’t going to care that we’re no longer together. They’ll still use me to get to you.”

  Although he hated to admit it—and he hadn’t thought of that—she was right. In her presence, he forgot his
position, and he’d arrogantly paraded her around without a single thought to the consequences.

  But he wasn’t ready to give in yet.

  “I can still keep you safe without—”

  “Okay, fine.” She threw her hands up. “Then, I’m free to see whoever I want, right? Johnny did ask me out a few weeks ago, maybe I’ll call him.”

  Mishca’s arm shot out so fast, Lauren jumped. She had thought to walk past him with that parting remark, but Mishca stopped her from going anywhere.

  He was surprised the wall hadn’t given away.

  “Nyet.”

  “Can’t have it both ways, Mish.”

  “Who the hell is Johnny?”

  She smirked, knowing she had got him exactly where she wanted him.

  “This is what I want, Mish. I don’t know how else to tell you that. It’s time you stopped running from this. Isn’t that what you told me?”

  “I don’t run from anything.”

  “Prove it.”

  Tilting her face up, he pressed a hard kiss to her lips, conceding to what she was saying.

  He knew he had been a goner since the first day he laid eyes on her. Mishca couldn’t let her go, even if he wanted to.

  “Vy budete menya v mogilu—You’ll be the death of me.”

  Smiling, she said, “Were you telling me how great I am?”

  Drawing back, he blew out a breath, laughing at the fact that he had been out negotiated…again. “Of course.” Kissing her again, he said, “You should get going. My business with the Albanians should be over soon.”

  “Be careful, Mish.”

  “You have my word.”

  He dropped his arm, allowing her to pass him. “I still want to know who Johnny is.”

  It felt odd being back at home, like the events over the last few days hadn’t happened. Dropping her bag on the floor, Lauren collapsed back on the couch, sighing at how relieved she felt at such a mundane act.

  She had only been sitting for a couple of seconds before the doorbell rang, probably Luka bringing her whatever she may have forgot in his car.

  Opening the door, Lauren gulped, wishing for the hundredth time that she had learned her lesson the last few times she had answered the door without checking to see who was on the other side.