by D. A. Young
“Only this time, I’ll convince you, once and for all, that I’m not the one you will ever wanna fuck with. I’m goin’ to give you one shot at me. No holds barred. I’ll even let you keep your little gun to make the fight fair.”
Restlessly, Otto’s eyes shifted from left to right, searching for a sign of protest. His family stared back with blank expressions, making it evident that he would receive neither support nor encouragement from them. He was on his own, and for the first time, he felt a twinge of uncertainty at how he’d orchestrated things. Usually, a family member would intervene before things escalated to this point. He pushed the doubt back and blinked rapidly and focused on Holt. They were the same height, but his cousin was more muscular. Otto was whipcord lean and well-learned in the martial arts.
He could take him, he thought confidentially.
“Let’s dance, asshole.”
Holt’s eyes flashed cruelly. “You should have continued to stay clear of me and kept your distance, cousin. Welcome to the End Zone.”
His fist slammed into Otto’s mouth like a freight train, spinning him around. He fell against the wall before sliding down it like a limp noodle. Holt kicked the shit out of Otto’s stomach, and he rolled over, gasping and choking out a mouthful of blood and a tooth. Instead of going in for the kill, Holt stepped back and removed his jacket, holster, and tie and rolled up his sleeves. He waited patiently for Otto to regain his bearings. Enraged and in survival mode, Otto charged Holt, going in with a roundhouse kick and found his foot suspended between his cousin’s large hands.
No, not his cousin, he comprehended, watching the sadistic grin spread across Holt’s face.
The Woodsman.
***
When Holt dislocated Otto’s left wrist first and silkily asked, “Have you beaten me yet?” Blaise, Julian, and Thea left the room, knowing they were nowhere near the end. Upon their return two hours later, they found Holt standing over him, casually rolling up the sleeves of his bloodied dress shirt.
He’d humored Otto and taken a couple of licks to the face and ribs, nothing major. However, with every successful hit his cousin delivered, Holt retaliated viciously with his own. Otto was concussed and his list of extensive injuries included: a fractured eye socket, a broken ankle of one leg and broken tibia of the other, three broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder to match the wrist Holt dislocated earlier in the beat down. Stitches would be required for his cheek, forehead, and chin.
With every bone-breaking strike, Holt repeated the same question.
“Have you beaten me yet?”
The answer remained obviously the same.
No.
By the time he was done, Otto understood that it wasn’t their almighty grandfather that had been keeping Holt in his place. Nor his mutual love for their cousins. Nor the guilt of what happened to his mother. Otto simply hadn’t mattered enough for Holt to address. At least not until he entered the perilous territory of his cousin’s relationship with Katerina Romankov. Now, he was severely repenting for his lapse in judgment. And his cousin let him know that he’d gone easy on him by allowing Otto to live.
“Don’t fuckin’ pussy out,” Holt lectured his uncle and Blaise when they turned away, covering their mouths and stomachs at Otto’s face and the carpet, both covered in blood. “Get a doctor to patch him up. He can go home with Matty later this afternoon. Thea, did you bring your laptop?”
“Yes, I left it with Mother in Matty’s room. I’ll go get it and arrange some ice for your hands. Be back in a flash.” She reached up and pressed a kiss to Holt’s scraped cheek. “Hopefully, things will be better from this point on. I’m rooting for you and Katerina.”
“Thanks, Thea,” Holt gruffly responded.
Thea moved to Otto, eager to be reassured he was still breathing. His grotesquely bulging eye looked positively ghastly. Still, she placed a kiss on the area his forehead that wasn’t split. “That was a horrible thing to do, O. I hope you learned your lesson because I honestly think he will kill you if you attempt a next time. As beastly as you can be at times, I couldn’t stand losing a brother figure. Don’t worry; I’ll be at home the entire time to nurse you.”
“Can’t…cook,” Otto croaked.
“Oh, fuck off, jerk!” Thea laughed tearfully.
“Tell…her…sorry…”
“Katerina?” she wondered, and Holt’s head shot up, his eyes narrowed in warning. Otto blinked yes. “If our cousin allows you to apologize to her, you can do it in person when you’re better. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”
***
“Holy Shiiiit!” Casey exclaimed, taking in Holt’s bruised face and his hands soaking in bowls of ice. “What in the Sam Hill happened to you?!”
Holt gave a tired laugh, but his eyes were still hard and unapologetic. “Finally had that long overdue heart-to-heart with my cousin and his accomplice. I wanted to apologize for his inexcusable actions and any turbulence it caused. Please believe that won’t ever happen again. I’d appreciate it if someone could reiterate that Katerina.”
“Why can’t you tell her?” Jack asked.
Holt’s jaw spasmed, and he pushed his answer through gnashed teeth. “She’s decided that we need space.”
“The fuck?” Darby growled. “I’ll admit when I saw the video, it threw me for a loop. However, I knew it was old shit. Did Kat believe it? She’s pissed at all of us right now, but I’ll talk to her—”
“Nah. Don’t say a damn thing to her. I don’t agree with that, but I’m not in a position to do anything about it right now. Ivar’s had a heart attack; there’s been a little progress with Matty’s situation, and I need to focus on finding Bojku. I got a fuck-ton of issues on my plate, but at least I took care of anything concerning Kat so y’all don’t have to worry about that.”
“Have you even slept since you left? You look like roadkill, shit,” Guy stated bluntly.
Holt lifted his hand out of the water and raised a bruised, swollen finger. “Fuck you too, man. Listen, y’all, we need to talk.”
He told them about Ivar’s will and its restrictions. “My initial reaction was to laugh it off and continue about my business and be out. If I do that, my family gets nothing, and that makes me just as selfish a bastard as Ivar. I’ve decided to fulfill my duty here and immerse myself in the work assigned to me.”
His friends were stunned into silence. “I understand that this is the last thing you expected to hear. It’s still hard for me to wrap my mind around. Jackie and Guy, I hate leavin’ you hangin’ with the business. I can sign my share—”
“Kiss our collective asses, Holt!” Guy sneered, flushed with irritation. “You ain’t gettin’ off that easily!”
Jack nodded vehemently. “He’s right. Afraid you’re stuck with us. Y’all did it for me when I was in New York. I think I can return the favor. As long as Pip doesn’t run off to Baymoor, we’ll be straight. Do what you gotta do there, and we’ll hold down the fort.”
“I appreciate that. D, I need men. Ivar has his team, but I need to put one together that I can trust. Can you hook me up?”
“How many? I’ve got twelve men that just finished an assignment in Dublin. I can reroute them your way. Let me know if you need more. You gonna tell Kat?”
“Twelve can work for now; thanks, man. No, I’m not telling her anythin’ else.”
At their protests, Holt heaved a rough exhale. “Enough! She told me to get my shit straight, and that’s what I’m doin’. This was her idea and while I don’t agree with the fuckin’ plot twist, I can see the advantages. I’ve witnessed firsthand the changes each of your women has brought to you, and you’re now better men for them.”
He bowed his head briefly, leaving his friends wondering about his state of mind. “I’m weak for her. Kat’s all I think about, and right now, that can’t happen. The same way she deserves the best of me so does my family. I can’t have my judgment clouded, so for now, I’ll stay the course.”
Holt lifted
his head and smiled grimly. “Watch out for her. Don’t crowd her space. Let her be, or I’ll fly back just to kick some ass. Her independence is her right.”
“Are you at least comin’ home for Christmas?” Darby inquired.
“No. My parents are flying out here in two days and will pack up the cabin prior to that. I bought gifts on my first day here and already sent them to your house, Jack. Y’all are more than welcome to visit anytime you want. Open invitation stands.”
“You’ll be here for the baby’s birth, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Case.”
“Take care of yourself, brother.” Guy smiled and upon seeing it, cheered Holt up. “This ain’t the end of us. We’ll be in touch real soon. And when your year ends, you better be ready to get to work here in ‘The Row’.”
“No doubt, brother. Y’all take care,” Holt ended before disconnecting their call.
***
“Kat’s all I think about, and right now, that can’t happen. The same way she deserves the best of me so does my family. I can’t have my judgment clouded, so for now, I’ll stay the course.”
She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop. Kat was on her way to the kitchen to retrieve Baby Jack’s bottle when she heard Holt’s voice. It froze her in her tracks, and Kat pressed against the very edge of the floating wall that separated the kitchen from the family room in Darby’s house to listen. Holt was staying in Sweden for a year. He wasn’t even coming back for Christmas. Kat hoped she could have at least seen him one more time. She straightened up with fortitude. He’d agreed that she was right, and now, she had no choice but to agree with his agreement.
It was a win-win, she thought dully. Even if it felt like the wedge between them was driven further, increasing the distance between them. Kat moved away from the wall and slipped into the bathroom. She pulled her phone out and scrolled through it and selected a number. It barely had a chance to ring.
“Hello?”
She smiled at the impatient haughtiness. “Madam Lalita, it’s Katerina Romankov. I’m calling to accept your offer if it still stands?”
“Katerina dah-ling! This is wonderful news! We must celebrate! I will come to you immediately! Where are you?”
Kat covered her face and laugh-sobbed. This was a good thing. A great opportunity for her career. “It is, isn’t it? How about we celebrate in the New Year?”
“Yes, we will! I can’t wait! How about January tenth?”
Her enthusiasm was contagious and made Kat feel better. She was ready to revel in the magic of a new beginning.
“We are going to make such beautiful music together dah-ling. Merry Christmas!”
“Perfect! Merry Christmas.”
***
“Ras, get your ass out of there. It barely fits two beds and the nurse as is.”
“They might need something. I can help the nurse,” Ras maintained, giving Holt a death glare as held up his injured hand. “Not sure how much help I’ll be with one hand, though.”
“Most likely the same as when you weren’t injured.”
“Are you patronizing me?”
“No, dumbass, I’m insultin’ you. Pay attention. Personally, I’ve never found you to be productive at anythin’ other than being a shit-stirrin’ snake.” Holt smirked at him. “How’s that hand by the way?”
Otto and Matty were loaded up and ready to go. They would be accompanied by a motorcycle-vehicle security brigade. Thea, Cleo and Jules, and Vera were already home. Julian and Blaise were riding with the brigade. Holt would be staying behind with Ivar until Darby’s team arrived
Ras pushed past the nurse and hopped out. “I’m going to make arrangements for his nutritionist.”
Holt grabbed him by his injured hand and Ras winced.
“Your days of fangirlin’ are over. Cleo will arrange for your things to be sent to whichever rock you choose to crawl under. Consider this your official warnin’: I’m housecleanin’. As of this moment, your gravy train has been cut off. You are officially eighty-sixed from all Falk properties.”
He flung Ras away from him, and the other man’s smile was etched in malice. “You’ve always thought you were better than everyone else, that the rules didn’t apply to you. I plan to be there the day you realize that they did all along, Brammer.”
Holt’s bored expression only infuriated Ras further. “I’ll make sure to hold my breath while I wait for it.”
He moved away from the vehicles and watched the procession, waving at Blaise and Julian as they brought up the rear. They reached the end of the street, and Holt checked his watch. His parents should be arriving soon. He should go –
Boom!
The explosion threw him to the ground.
People started screaming, and car alarms were going off. For a moment, Holt lay on his back, staring up at the ocean of darkness, trying to make sense of the chaos as his thundering heart threatened to drown out all other noises. What the fuck was that? Sirens could be heard wailing in the distance. Dread turned his limbs to ice, making it hard for Holt to move. The wailing from the emergency vehicles intensified, and the screaming increased. He managed to get to his feet and slowly turned his head in the direction people were fleeing. Holt stared at the ball of fire, lighting up the night. It had once contained Otto and Matty.
He began to run.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Three months later
New York City, NY
“Kat, a group of us are going to check out that new Creole-French restaurant, Baptiste Giamond, tonight. You should come with us! It’s Friday night! Otherwise known as time to let loose!”
Kat glanced up from her desk with a grin for the intern hovering in her doorway. She’d already known about the gathering. On her first day of work, Kat discovered that people felt free to openly share their business and their opinion on anything.
“Maybe next time, Tamlin.”
“Ugh! Don’t say that, Kat! You’ll have a blast!”
With an apologetic smile, Kat explained, “With the show next week, I have to make sure that everything’s on point.”
The Japanese girl’s lips, coated in black lipstick, formed a perfect pout. “Like you could ever be anything but excellent! I get it. There’s a lot at stake, so we planned to unwind a little before the main event. Raincheck? Don’t even think about saying no either! I know you’ll be leaving us soon.”
“Definitely. Have fun.” Kat returned her goodbye wave.
Her gaze drifted around the industrial loft of Madam Lalita’s design studio. It boasted exposed brick and floating walls that divided the different departments and lots of windows that afforded an amazing view of the infamous Manhattan skyline. Most days after work, Kat lingered and wondered if the breathtaking view of the most famous city in the world would ever get old. New York City. The concrete jungle birthed from a ruthless animal kingdom determined to survive its mercurial speed. There was always something happening, somewhere to be, or someone to see. Everyone’s engines were revved and roaring on all cylinders, at top performance, always ready to go.
“Katerina? Why are you here so late? Couldn’t bear to part with your baby over the weekend?”
Madam Lalita stood next to her desk, her face set in a mock scowl. She was leaving for the day and already nestled in her knee-length, Swiss-chocolate, fox fur-trimmed cashmere cape. Today’s turban was a cream and gold brocade that matched her cream sweater dress and mink stiletto boots. Her oversized, tinted eyeglasses were firmly in place.
For the thousandth time, Kat wondered what her eyes looked like. Presently, she was referring to Kat’s desk. The rustic, industrial architect drafting table was pretty amazing. It was already here her first day, and Kat was infatuated with it. It had all the compartments she needed to store her supplies and some she hadn’t thought of. Madam had also been kind enough to provide an espresso machine, Kat’s favorite Voluspa candles, and a white shag rug that she couldn’t wait to sink her feet into. When Kat had trouble
brainstorming, she liked to pace barefoot. Madam was an angel for including it in her space. But the desk…her happy dance upon seeing it was still being discussed in the studio.
“Everyone has gone to the grand opening of Baptiste Giamond tonight. I planned on stopping by and scaring them sober.” She said it with such zest that Kat couldn’t help but laugh. Madam Lalita was a lot to handle. She ran her empire with an iron fist and wasn’t scared to tear someone to pieces for using the words “light pink” as a description instead of blush or rosé.
On the flip side, Kat had also witnessed her boss send her driver to pick up an employee’s mother and take her to a doctor’s appointment when the assisted living bus broke down. Her driver also picked up children from daycare and brought them back to the studio when parents had to work late. During those instances, Madam Lalita sent the receptionist to pick dinner up for everyone.
She would take the children to her office suite and get updates on their schoolwork and read stories to them. The infamous designer was such an interesting contradiction that Kat often found herself gravitating to wherever she was in the studio to covertly study her. After agreeing to design the jewelry for her bridal collection, Kat tracked down every piece of information she could find on Madam Lalita and commit it to memory. She’d never been married but didn’t lack for male companionship. She loved the beach and read avidly in her spare time.
“I feel like I should warn them,” Kat teased. “I was actually about to wrap things up here and head home.”
Madam Lalita reared back in shock. “Home on a Friday night? Whatever for? At your age, I had six lovers to choose from!”
“Six?” Kat echoed. “Wow. That’s a nice…even number.”
“Katerina, even the Lord rested on Sunday,” Madam Lalita informed her piously. “If it wasn’t for my system, I would never have been able to accomplish anything.”