by Roxie Rivera
As he entered the house, he glanced back at the kid and wondered if Boychenko might be a little too attached to Vivian. They were closer in age than Nikolai and his wife, and sometimes young men got stupid ideas about the women they guarded. Vivian only had eyes for Nikolai, but that might not stop another man from falling for her.
“Good morning, Kostya,” Vivian greeted him with a smile. Dressed in black compression tights and a loose long-sleeve shirt with reflective stripes, she was finishing up a simple breakfast of juice and toast slathered with peanut butter. She gestured toward the platter heaped with delicious looking Mexican pastries on the counter. “Dimitri stopped by a little while ago,” she explained. “Help yourself if you’re hungry.”
He shook his head. “I’ve eaten.”
“Kolya is in his office.” She touched his arm as he tried to pass, stopping him before he could leave the kitchen. She leveled a cautious look his way. “He’s in one of his dark moods”
Appreciating the heads up, he nodded and wished her well on her run. Ilya entered the kitchen, grabbed a pink-iced pastry and a bottle of water from the refrigerator and hurried after Vivian. He would be riding escort while Vivian and Boychenko ran.
Kostya found Nikolai, seeming lost in thought, standing at the bay window in his office that overlooked the front yard.
“Shut the door.” Nikolai gave the order without glancing back.
Although he’d always chafed at taking orders, he did what Nikolai asked. There was something in the air that warned him not to push this morning. It was a static crackle of warning, a swirling bite of energy that pulsed from Nikolai. The boss might have mellowed in the last few years, but Kostya had been around long enough to know that calm exterior could hide a hurricane of rage.
Not saying a word, he sat in one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace and studied the chess game in progress. By the looks of the pieces and their positions, Vivian was a terrible player. He decided to give her some help and quickly nudged a few of her pieces into better positions. If Nikolai noticed when they sat down to resume their game, he wouldn’t say a word. He would let Vivian win just to see her smile.
“Ten’s P.O. tossed his room this morning,” Nikolai said finally. “They forced their way inside Vanya’s house and tore up the place looking for an infraction to pull his parole.”
“Shit.”
“Vanya is furious. He was already on thin ice with Erin about Ten living there. Having the police in his house? Having his wife bothered like that? He’s going to be a fucking bear about it.”
“What about Ten?”
“His P.O. ordered a piss test, but he conveniently didn’t have one in his kit. They dragged him into the office for testing.” Nikolai glanced back, frowning. “And to sweat him, I’m sure.”
“Ten is the mostly loyal soldier you have.” He wasn’t worried about the enforcer-turned-bodyguard talking. “He’s already done six years in the pen for you. He’s been living under his parole terms since May and hasn’t put a toe out of line. He’ll go back inside before he says a word against the family.”
“That’s what concerns me.” Nikolai blew out a noisy breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “You and I both know why they dragged him in this morning. They know he’s one of my pressure points. We all have alibis for what went down last night, and we’re in the clear. The police want answers. They’ll never be able to prove it, but they know I sanctioned Hector’s bloodbath. Threatening to put Ten back inside is an easy way to force my hand.” He turned around and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “We may need to give them some of Hector’s men to relieve the pressure.”
Kostya groaned. “Hector won’t like it.”
“Hector is a big boy now. If he’s going to sit at the table with the rest of the adults, he’ll have to learn that sometimes we have to make painful sacrifices.”
What Nikolai said was true, but Hector was on shaky ground right now. He would need weeks, maybe months, to solidify his hold on the cartel and cement himself as the new boss. Judging by the tension radiating from Nikolai as he lowered his arms to his sides and left the window, he knew that. Nikolai dropped into the open chair on the other side of the chess board, picked up the white queen and rolled it between his tattooed fingers.
The wheels in Kostya’s head began to turn as he looked for ways to take the heat off the family. “I’ll go see Diego Reyes. He’ll know if any of Hector’s triggermen had bad blood with any of their targets. If there’s prior history, we can give the police a nudge in the right direction without it coming back on us. There’s a new detective working homicide. He’s hungry to prove himself. He’s a soft target. I can work him.”
“Be careful.” Nikolai’s mouth settled into a flat line. “Eric will be all over this. I won’t have him upsetting Vivian. I don’t want our fingerprints on any of this.” He seemed to think about it for a moment. “Use Ilya. Blat? It’s his specialty.”
Ilya had become their unofficial tolkash, a pusher who dealt in favors. More and more, they relied on Ilya to smooth out little problems and maintain relationships with the other families in town.
“Speaking of Ilya, I may need his help with some freelance work Liam sent my way.”
“What kind of work?” Nikolai made a gun sign and crooked his finger as if firing it.
“No, not that kind of work. He needs to get one of his boys into the US. Permanently,” he added.
“A green card marriage?”
“That was my thought.”
“It will have to be someone we can trust. We don’t need a bad marriage blowing up in our faces three or four years down the line. It’s too risky.”
“That’s why I wanted to use Ilya to pick the right woman to approach as a possible bride. He’s better at reading women than I am.”
Nikolai laughed roughly with agreement and then tapped the chess piece on his knee. He had that irritated gleam in his eye as he asked, “When were you going to tell me about sending Artyom to the hospital to watch over Hadley?”
He sat back in his chair and shrugged. “I wasn’t.”
Nikolai’s jaw tightened. “You weren’t going to tell me that you sent my best captain into that fucking hospital to kill a girl who is dying of heart problems?”
“The plan was never to kill her.” Annoyed, he exhaled in a huff. “This is why I didn’t tell you about sending him.”
Nikolai glared at him. “Are you out of your fucking mind sending someone to threaten Hadley? She’s one of Vivian’s friends and a colleague. Not to mention, her father has connections that could bury us.”
“No one threatened her.” Technically, he was right. He’d threatened Finn. “Artyom was just there to keep an eye on things.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Kostya. We both know why he was there.” He pointed an angry finger. “Don’t use Artyom like that again. He’s done enough for this family. He’s finally found someone who makes him happy and—”
Nikolai stopped abruptly as Kostya lifted his head with interest. “Artyom found someone? Who?”
Nikolai seemed hesitant to answer. “It’s Chess.”
Stunned, he insisted, “You’re not serious.”
“I am.”
They shared a look that silently communicated the ugly truth about Adrian, the street soldier who had been part of Artyom’s crew and the father of Chess’s almost seven-year-old daughter. It was Adrian’s fault Ten had gone to prison, and the rest of the family had never forgiven him.
“I didn’t realize they were that close,” Kostya admitted, simultaneously irritated that he had missed a connection to the family’s top captain and impressed that Artyom had managed to keep a secret from him.
“I didn’t either,” Nikolai replied. “Not until Vee told me about the house,” he added.
“What house?
“That new build—the Mediterranean one with the red tile roof—across from Vanya and Erin,” he clarified. “Erin told Vee that she saw Artyom with Chess looki
ng at the house. I asked him about it. He told me that Chess put in an offer and got the house.”
He tried to follow the chain of information that had flowed from woman to woman. “How the hell can that girl afford a house in Vanya’s neighborhood? She was fucking homeless and pregnant a few years ago.”
“She was, but now she’s loaded.”
“How? Doing what?”
“She owns a babywearing company.”
“The fuck is babywearing?” he interrupted with confusion.
“It’s a fabric harness,” Nikolai tried to explain as he gestured at his chest. “Vee has decided she’s wearing our baby instead of putting him in a stroller.” He made a face, and Kostya smartly decided not to ask why. “She was showing me some of the designs that Chess sells, and I got curious when I realized it was Adrian’s Chess.”
“And?”
“And she’s made millions selling her slings, clothes and nursery things.”
“Millions?” he asked skeptically. Was there really that much money in baby gear?
“It’s the fabric designs, I think. She draws them herself and uses organic whatever,” he said with a wave of his hand. “She also has cloth diapers and furniture and clothes. Vee showed me her Instagram. The girl has millions of followers. Target is going to start carrying some of her goods.”
“Did Artyom give her money?” he wondered. “Is that how she got started?”
“Yes. He told me that he felt responsible for her after everything that happened with Adrian. He looked after her and the baby.”
“And now what? They’re a couple?”
“He said no. That they’re just friends.” At his look of disbelief, Nikolai raised his hands. “That’s what he said. I didn’t push.”
“But?”
“But he had that look in his eye.”
Knowing the hell Artyom had survived back in Russia—losing his woman and his baby—Kostya wasn’t at all surprised that Artyom would gravitate toward a single mother. But there was a huge fucking complication with his choice of this girl and her baby.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Nikolai interjected, as if reading his mind. “Adrian.”
Not another word had to be said. They both seemed to be sharing the same thought about what had really happened to Adrian and all the players involved in the coverup.
“It could get messy,” Kostya said matter-of-factly. “It might even be the sort of mess I can’t clean.”
“Then we’ll have to make sure that Artyom understands that before he makes any promises to Chess,” Nikolai decided. Still toying with the white queen, he admitted, “I think he’s going to end up marrying her. When he talked about her and tried to defend their friendship, it gave me fucking flashbacks to all of my excuses about Vivian. It’s not about paying the debt he owed her as Adrian’s captain. It’s something more than friendship and protection.”
“She’s a ready-made family,” he said somewhat unkindly. “After what he lost…”
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Kostya.” Nikolai exhaled and stretched out his legs. “You know the little girl has autism?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t.”
“Well, she does. It takes a special kind of man to want to step into the big shoes that little girl’s father needs. This isn’t about replacing what he lost. He could have married and had kids with Lidia or a dozen other single moms that he’s fucked around with over the years. No,” he said firmly. “Chess is different.”
“So?” he asked, certain Nikolai was about to lay down an order.
“So,” Nikolai interjected pointedly, “you want to play spy games? You want to pull shit like you did with Hadley last night? You send someone expendable.”
“I don’t trust the expendable ones. We can’t afford any mistakes.”
Nikolai squeezed the bridge of his nose and muttered rudely. It was clear the stress of the last few months was gnawing away at him. “Kostya…”
“Look, I didn’t tell you about Artyom because I knew that it was going to eat you up inside if I had to pull that trigger. You’ve never been good when it comes to applying pressure on families, on women and kids.”
“There’s a line, Kostya,” Nikolai insisted roughly.
“Only because you drew it!” Irritated, he said, “This is what I’m good at. Just let me do my job.”
Nikolai shook his head. “Maybe you shouldn’t be doing the ugly things either. Maybe it’s time we found different ways to get things done.”
“It’s a dream,” he replied coldly. “A fantasy. These are the rules of our world. We have to play by them—or we have to get out of the game.”
Nikolai’s gaze hardened. “Don’t lecture me. This was my world long before it was yours.”
The boss had him there. Kostya touched his chest in a signal of apology, and Nikolai nodded in acceptance and continued playing with the white queen. Clearly wanting to change the subject, he asked, “How is Holly?”
“She’s fine.” He wasn’t about to tell Nikolai he’d spent the night with Holly. Lifting up in his seat, he reached back and withdrew the boxed DNA swab and the rolled-up plastic hair collection bag from his pocket. He tossed them onto Nikolai’s lap. “I need your DNA.”
Nikolai’s lip curled with distaste. With reluctance, he set aside his queen and opened the swab first. After vigorously rubbing the inside of his cheek, he slipped it into the box and then tugged free a few strands of hair for the bag. After they were both sealed, he threw them back at Kostya. “When will we know?”
“Soon.”
“You’ll only confirm that Holly is my sister and Maksim is our father. You can’t prove anything about her mother.”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
Nikolai didn’t ask how. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
He didn’t think it was time to tell him about the strange package he’d received earlier that morning. Instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket and found the photo he needed. “You’ll want to know about this gift the Liquidator left me.”
“What kind of gift?” he asked guardedly.
“This kind.” Kostya showed Nikolai the snapshot of Lana he’d taken at the motel.
The boss’s reaction was instant—and furious. “What the fuck?”
Before he got the wrong idea, he quickly explained, “They found her in a mark’s house. The contract didn’t include her—alive or dead—so he decided to give her to me. He doesn’t deal with trafficked girls.”
“He gave her to you? As a gift? For what?” Nikolai shot him a murderous glare, and Kostya had to fight the urge to recoil.
“Not like that! He wanted me to find her family or help her go back home.”
“You can’t send her back home! You know what will happen to her or her family if you do. Even if the traffickers didn’t come back for her, the shame of it would ruin her life.” He slashed his hand through the air. “She stays here where we can keep her safe.”
Nikolai’s gaze returned to the phone. It was clear that he was having the same thoughts as Kostya when he’d discovered her in that rundown motel. “She looks so much like Holly.” The boss glanced at him. “You don’t think…?”
“I don’t know,” Kostya admitted. “I used her as a decoy last night at the salon. I had her pose as a client from the women’s shelter so she could get a free haircut and dye job like Holly’s and then sneak away and hide in a closet until it was time.”
Nikolai huffed as if amused. “Free? Hardly. Vee shook me down like a loan shark to get every penny she could as a donation to help Holly fund that program.” Returning his attention to Lana, he asked, “What did you promise this girl in exchange for her help last night?’
“An apartment, living expenses and a clean ID.”
“She’ll need a job.”
“She has one.”
“How?”
“Holly offered her one.”
Nikolai laughed softly. “She’s as soft-hea
rted as Vee.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“It makes them vulnerable and easy to hurt.” Nikolai rose from his chair and walked to his desk where he grabbed his suit jacket. As he slipped into it, he said, “I want a meeting with the Liquidator. I need to know who this mark was so we can figure out how Lana was trafficked into Houston.”
Kostya tucked his phone into his jeans as he stood. “You know he doesn’t do face-to-face.”
“Then a phone call,” he insisted. “You’ll figure it out.”
And he would. Somehow.
Nikolai flicked his fingers in a gesture for Kostya to walk with him. As they left the office, he explained, “I’m making a trip to see a dog breeder and then I’ll be back in town. I put Boychenko and Ilya with Vivian. Danny will provide additional cover until Ten gets cut loose.”
“Are you taking Artyom with you?”
Nikolai nodded. “Where will you be today?”
“Around,” he replied vaguely. “I have some work to do.”
Nikolai eyed him warily. “I don’t want to know.”
Kostya smiled. “I’m sure that you don’t.”
Chapter Six
HE LEFT NIKOLAI’S home but didn’t drive straight to the hub where his spiders liked to congregate. Always concerned about a tail, he switched up his route and kept an eye on his rear-view mirror. Eventually, he pulled into the parking lot of a busy shopping center and went inside a bookstore chain. He walked through the store and ducked into the stockroom where he snatched a baseball cap and jacket from a locker he paid the manager to use.
With the cap pulled low and the jacket changing his appearance just slightly, he emerged from the rear of the store and headed straight for the closest bus stop. It was a short 7-minute wait for the next bus and a quick ride to the next stop where he kept an old Dodge Neon in a parking garage.
It was imperative that he never be traced back to the building his little spiders had dubbed their lair. The commercial building on McKinney was a few blocks from Minute Maid Park and in a well-trafficked area. It didn’t fit the normal specs for a hideout which had made it so attractive to him.