Goodnight, Sinners (Sinner's Empire Book 3)

by Nikita Slater

  Perhaps that was why Shaun enjoyed working with Doctors Without Borders. The experience was both humbling and forced her to learn new skills. Depending on the camp or city she was working in, she rarely had the resources she would have access to in a hospital with more money at their disposal.

  As they approached the surgical ward, Shaun turned to Cooper. “You and the other men will have to remain out here.” When it looked like he would argue, she added, “I’ve already cleared it with Jozef. He understands that there are sanitization risks to having people on this ward. It’s locked down tight so no one can enter.”

  Cooper gave her a skeptical look. “Pretty sure I could easily infiltrate that flimsy door.”

  His gaze went past her to land on a steel double reinforced door with shatter proof windows and a code reader.

  He was already pulling his phone from his pocket before Shaun could suggest he call Jozef. The conversation was brief and Shaun could finally continue without her contingent of bodyguards.

  As she and Elisa traversed the hallway, Elisa spoke about the incident. “You seem like a very independent person; these restrictions must be hard on you.”

  Shaun thought about it and then smiled. “Not really. Jozef wants to keep me safe, but he also wants me to be happy. I wouldn’t be here if I was truly restricted.”

  Elisa stared at her. “But you have to make decisions based on what he wants, don’t you?”

  Shaun laughed. “I think you just described marriage. It goes both ways, he has to keep me in mind when making decisions too.”

  “That probably explains why I’m not married.” Elisa’s tone was dry. “Well, I’m glad you’ve found someone worth the sacrifice of your independence. I wish you a very happy and long marriage.”

  Elisa pushed the door open to an empty surgery and waved Shaun in. As Shaun looked around the room, half her mind was on what the other woman had said. She had found someone worth sacrificing for, someone who she could be happy with, and she wasn’t willing to let that go.

  Shaun grinned to herself, her back to the other woman. She thought maybe she was finally ready to take the plunge.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dasha sat on the hospital bed, her back straight as a poker, her face clear of expression as the attending doctor lifted her arm, put his hand against her elbow and pushed, then rotated the arm at the shoulder. He did the motion several times.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how much discomfort are you feeling?”

  Dasha glared at the man. What a fool. He hadn’t given her any basis of comparison. What was a one? A pinch, or a slap? Then a ten must be a severed limb.

  “One,” she told him, her gaze steady on the wall past his shoulder.

  The doctor grunted. “There’s no point in hiding your pain, Mrs. Evanoff. I can prescribe something to help if you’ll allow me.”

  Condescending man! Would he say the same if it had been her husband sitting there? Or another man? No, he would not. He would allow them to bear their pain with dignity.

  Dasha regretted that she was forced to come to the hospital for her treatment. She would have preferred Krystoff’s personal physician, but the man, along with most of their former employees, had scattered when news of Krystoff’s death reached them.

  Leeza hadn’t even made it to Poland before Dasha insisted she pull the car over. Disgusted, Leeza had let her mother leave. Her daughter’s parting words still stung. “If you go back to Prague or pursue any kind of vendetta against Jozef and Shaun, then consider us done. I don’t want to hear from you again.”

  But Dasha knew she’d made the right decision, for both of their sakes. Leeza didn’t need her mother shattering what little remained of her life, and Dasha didn’t need an over-concerned child hovering over her.

  She hoped she would see Leeza again… and Saskia. But some things were more important.

  “Okay, I think we’re finished here.”

  The doctor finished re-bandaging her arm.

  “You’ll need to come back for another session.” He pulled up his schedule on the computer in his office. “Does Thursday 10:00 AM next week work?”

  Dasha inclined her head in agreement and took his card with the appointment written on it. She’d seen him twice since the accident and was gaining confidence in the use of her arm each time.

  She was certain that Jozef would search for her, but she doubted he would concentrate many efforts in Prague. He would expect her to run as far and as fast as she could go, knowing he would be gunning for her.

  What he didn’t know was that she’d lost everything, and a woman with nothing left to lose had only one course of action left. Vengeance. She wanted to right the wrongs and avenge her husband before she joined him. She wasn’t afraid of death, and her motivation to take down the new Koba regime was strong.

  She would bide her time until conditions were right, and then she would do what Krystoff could not do. What she herself had been unable to do when she’d held a knife to a five-year-old boy’s throat. She would take out the mute mobster and his house-wrecking girlfriend.

  Dasha slid off the table and picked up her purse, slinging it across her good shoulder. Each day she regained more and more strength in her injured arm. In order to aid in her efforts, she lifted weights daily, ignoring the agony that ripped through her body.

  She stepped out the door and damn near walked into the last person she expected.

  Heart hammering, she whirled around and launched herself back into the doctor’s office. He looked up, startled. “Did we forget something?”

  She forced a smile, her first in weeks. “I have a question, actually.”

  “Of course.” He straightened in his chair, giving her his full attention.

  Dasha racked her brain for a question, but her thoughts were on Shaun Patterson, the woman she’d nearly run into in the hallway. She was followed by three bodyguards, any of which could have easily recognized Dasha. It was sheer luck that her head had been down as she adjusted her purse, her hair obscuring her face.

  “I… I… when do you think I’ll be able to drive again?” she asked quickly, wanting to get out of there and rush down the hall, catch another glimpse of her prey. It was an obsession, beating at her, propelling her forward. She hated that she had to let Shaun leave with her bodyguards.

  “It’ll be a few weeks yet before I can recommend the use of heavy machinery.”

  “Uh… sure.”

  She thought enough time had passed that she could slip away from the room unnoticed. She said goodbye to her doctor and opened the door, peeking into the hallway. Shaun and her entourage were nowhere in sight.

  She stepped into the corridor and looked both ways, indecision warring within. If she turned left, she might get another glimpse of her prey, but she risked getting caught. If Jozef found out she was still in Prague, he would shut the city down and raze it until he got his hands on her. His uncle had taught him too well for her to think he’d allow her to slip away again. He was the guard dog. Once he got a bone, he didn’t give it up easily.

  Dasha turned right, shoving her sunglasses on her face and dipping her head low so her hair would obscure her features. If Shaun was in the hospital, then it would be crawling with Jozef’s men. He didn’t take risks with the girl. The last time Dasha had gotten close to her had been through a lot of careful watching and waiting. She wasn’t stupid enough to think Jozef would give her another chance at the girl. He probably had bodyguards following her she didn’t even know about.

  Dasha made her way swiftly through the parking lot to the car she was borrowing. She let herself in and breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to the leave the lot without incident. Still, she looked in the rearview mirror all the way home and held her gun close to her side as she traversed the stairs to the top floor apartment.

  It was an old building with four floors and no elevator. The place hadn’t been renovated in years. The tiles were cracked and dirty; the furniture was old and falling apa
rt and the windows were so grimy only a small, very determined amount of sunlight could get through.

  It was perfect for hiding out.

  After coming back to Prague, she’d gone to an old society friend, Cece Mountbatten, for refuge. Cece had set her up in the guest room of her luxury townhouse, but the setup hadn’t lasted. At Dasha’s request, Cece had gone to Krystoff’s funeral reception. Unfortunately, she’d crossed words with Jozef, then come back to the townhouse in a fury over the incident. The idiot woman had no idea how much harm she could have done to Dasha with her carelessness.

  Dasha had gotten out just in time and watched from a shadowed garden across the street as Jozef’s men paid Cece a visit, having found out she was an ally of Dasha’s. Luckily, they left empty-handed, but it had been close.

  Dasha had been forced to find a new safe-house to hole up in, and this one was far less posh.

  She dumped her purse and a bag of groceries on the counter. She’d avoided going out, but she’d had to go to her physio appointment. If she didn’t gain strength, then she wouldn’t be effective when she finally enacted her revenge.

  She lay down on the couch, covering her face with her hands and taking several deep breaths. It was times like this, when she was faced with how far she’d fallen that she had to hold back tears. Rather than let them fall, she berated herself until they dried. She was useless if she couldn’t hold her shit together.

  Finally, she rolled onto her side, her bad arm up, dragged the homemade quilt over her body and allowed herself a small nap. Though she didn’t like to admit it, her recovery was slow and tedious. She didn’t have the same level of energy that she’d had before her injury.

  She slept heavily, the shadows of the day gradually creeping through the apartment. She woke with the awareness that someone was in the room with her. She thought maybe Jozef had figured out where she was. Without pause, she rolled off the side of the couch, reaching for her gun at the same time.

  She hit the floor, rolled again until she was on her back and aimed the pistol, preparing to fire. Her eyes met the startled face of Nikolay.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” she growled, shoving hair out of her face and lowering the gun.

  When she’d left Cece’s, she’d gone to the only person who might actually help her. It was a risk but having a man on the inside was also a bonus. Nikolay helped set her up with the apartment and a car.

  Dasha had known well before Krystoff’s death that Nikolay was betraying Jozef. She’d first suspected when he started turning up at the mansion after Jozef had moved into his club. Dasha had questioned Krystoff, and he’d admitted that Nikolay was in his pocket.

  Though Dasha wanted revenge, wanted to bring the killer of her husband down, she still despised Nikolay for his lack of loyalty. Perhaps it was his generation. None of them had loyalty anymore. If Jozef had been loyal, he wouldn’t have gone rogue and the family wouldn’t have splintered. The difference between Jozef and Nikolay was that Jozef was up front about his intentions and where he stood.

  Nikolay was a sneaky bastard, and she hated having to rely on him for sanctuary while she was in Prague.

  “Brought you some things.”

  He sat on the couch, leaving plenty of room for Dasha to pick herself off the floor and settle back on the couch. Adrenalin was rushing through her, warring with a groggy, sleep-hazed mind. It made her feel light-headed and disoriented.

  “New phone.” Nikolay placed a phone between them.

  Dasha picked it up. It was an old flip phone. She would take the Sim card out when Nikolay left and replace it with one of her own. She didn’t trust him not to keep tabs on her.

  “Meds.” He set a plastic bag with three pill bottles between them.

  Dasha picked them up. Dasha hadn’t been able to buy her own medications, so Nikolay had been getting them for her. If the bottles were sealed, she would take them. If not, then she would suffer.

  “Any news?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  She was desperate for any tidbits. Not just because she wanted to know what was going on in her enemy’s camp, but because she wasn’t used to hiding out while life went on around her, without her. Dasha had always been the planner, the one with her finger in every pie. Going dark was a new and frightening situation for her. Though she was fiercely independent, she missed her family.

  “They’re hiding someone… or something,” Nikolay said, annoyance colouring his tones. “One of the guest suites is being used, but no one knows who. Only Shaun, Jozef and a nurse are allowed in the room. I think they might be hiding someone who was injured during the attack.”

  Dasha perked up. “Krystoff?” Though she knew better, she couldn’t help the hope that rang through her voice.

  Nikolay shook his head, his gaze on the dingy carpet. “He’s gone. I saw his body.”

  A shaft of pain sliced through her, and it was everything she could do to keep the emotion to herself. Every day was a fresh wound, a fresh reminder that the man she loved, the life she loved, was gone. And every day the pain rushed through her like a tidal wave of suffocation. She wanted to scream and cry and throw her meagre possessions. Instead, she pulled the pain deep into her soul and let it fester, let it drive her.

  “They’ve finished moving into the mansion.” She said flatly. Not really a question. She knew it was happening, knew that Jozef would have to take the physical seat of power, along with the figurative mantle. The Koba estate went back 300 years. Generations of people, generations of mafia had lived there.

  “Yes.”

  Nikolay’s answers were short and pointed. She suspected he knew how she felt about him. Though she tried to hide her feelings, disdain was one that always managed to slip through the cracks.

  She wasn’t entirely sure what his motive for helping her was. Could be he thought she would give him a leadership position if she took the organization back. What he didn’t realize was that she had no interest in the organization. She wanted to take out the source of all her pain, then she wanted to die.

  Simple, basic, bloody.

  She had been stripped down to the basics. No home, no family, no money, nothing. She would leave this earth a much different person than she arrived. Death would allow her the peace that her constantly moving brain had never found. She would welcome it.

  “I saw Shaun at the hospital today.”

  Nikolay looked at her sharply.

  “Don’t worry, neither she nor her bodyguards saw me.”

  “I should have warned you,” he said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his thighs, slouching his shoulders. “She’s doing a surgery there next week.”

  “What?” Dasha sat up straighter. “You should have told me sooner. This is a prime opportunity.”

  Nikolay knew what Dasha wanted, though he was pushing her to bide her time until he could build an army and help place her at the head of the family again. She allowed his brief fantasy, though her goals differed from his.

  “They don’t tell me much,” he admitted. “I didn’t know she was going until she’d already left the mansion.”

  Nikolay had mentioned before that he thought he was being treated differently. She’d assured him it was his imagination and he would be safe inside the organization, spying for her. In reality, she was sure Jozef suspected Nikolay of something. In the fifteen years since Jozef had formed his infamous team of mercenaries, he’d kept them close. They worked like a machine. When the head moved, so did the arms and legs. But Nikolay was being left out of the loop. It was a concern, one that perhaps if Nikolay were smarter, he would see.

  It didn’t matter to Dasha. She was more interested in the comings and goings of the family, not the intricate details of Jozef’s work life. She hoped once she was finished with Nikolay, Jozef would take care of him for her. She didn’t like getting her hands bloody… with one exception.

  “Get me the date and time of that surgery,” she told him, then stood and walked to the door, pointedly
opening it and staring at him until he got up and left.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Shaun sat on the balcony of her suite, gazing blindly toward the garden and sipping at her first cup of morning coffee. She wore a heavy sweater with a coat over top and a pair of knit gloves, in concession to the wintery weather. She looked the picture of contentment, but images could be deceiving. Inside, her brain whirred like a squirrel on speed, racing on a hamster wheel.

  Her thoughts bounced from her dislike of living in the mansion, to her upcoming surgery, to the dull ache in her chest when she thought of Jozef. The ache was bittersweet. The moments they snatched for themselves were amazing. They came together in a combination of explosive sex, laughter, and signed conversations.

  The evening before, Jozef had surprised her with a picnic on the living room floor of their suite. It had everything, from a checkered blanket, to chocolate covered strawberries and champagne on ice. There was an envelope next to the champagne with her name embossed on it.

  “What’s the occasion?” she asked.

  Not that I need an occasion to give my lovely fiancé a gift, but it’s Christmas, he signed.

  Shaun had gaped at him.

  Christmas? She’d forgotten about Christmas?

  He’d laughingly told her it was a few days earlier, and, yes, they’d missed it. Shaun had wanted to immediately call her mother and apologize and wish her a belated Merry Christmas, but Jozef had pulled her down onto the blanket, kissed her soundly and assured her they’d sent her mother an extravagant gift. Apparently, he’d seen her mother the day before while he was the Guard Dogs Securities offices and Fatima had reassured him that she wasn’t hurt at all by the missed holiday, that she understood they were mourning Krystoff.