by Belle Aurora
As predicted, he didn’t like that.
Roam’s jaw steeled, and the moment he lifted his hand, his goons stepped forward. “I don’t know where you’re hiding your balls, seeing as the sheer size of them is fucking gargantuan but…” As his goons surrounded him, they reached into their coats, and it was no wonder what they were bracing for. “You don’t make demands. You are not in the position to do much more than beg my forgiveness and offer your eternal servitude. What makes you think I’m going to agree to that?”
Fuck me, he was an asshole.
It was sick, but I had the greatest pleasure in announcing, “Because if you don’t, I’ll make a call. That call will be forwarded, and forwarded again, until you will find yourself stuck in the mud, unable to make movement any which way in your territory without causing some very bothersome trouble for yourself.”
That, I could see, caught his attention.
The cockiness he wore only a moment ago evaporated clean away when his brow lowered. And when I say Roam hesitated, he did just that. “Explain this to me.”
Shit. My pleasure.
“See,” I turned away from him and began to pace as I clarified, “We’re of the same generation, you and I, but we ran with very different ideals. Our morals, oil and water. And while you were out terrorizing for power—” I moved to stand between Sasha and Lev. “—we were making powerful connections, nurturing growing friendships, and solidifying contacts.” I peered at the stoic man. “You think you were my last option?” I snuffled out a laugh. “You were my first.” My tone lowered as my gaze swept the length of him. “Because you were the easiest.”
Roam’s expression steeled. He tutted, lifting his hand and waving it in irritation. “Get to your point, Viktor, and get to it quickly before I tire of you and start decorating this room in my favorite color. Red.”
Okay. Fine. Here goes. “To the east of The Disciples lies Overcoat Army territory. To the west, Soldadas De Satana turf. Directly in front of you? That’s Striking Vipers ground. And to your six, Malocchio terrain.” Roam didn’t react at me spouting the knowledge I’d learned along the way, but I hoped I’d get a reaction from what I was about to tell him. “These stomping grounds of yours are pretty sweet. You got the best location in the best part of town. Must be nice.” I licked my lips and kept my gaze on his when I uttered, “Would be a shame if you were blocked from leaving it.”
The way Roam’s expression changed satisfied me in a way I couldn’t describe.
Sasha uttered a cool, “Would be hard to run business from a ten-block radius.”
“Impossible, even,” added Lev clinically.
Oh, yes. I could see the cogs and gears moving inside his head. He was thinking and thinking hard.
Roam’s expression faltered only a moment before he straightened, then stated an uber-confident, “You’re bluffing.”
Was I though? Was he willing to risk his trade on it? I wasn’t so sure. And from the looks of him, neither was he.
“Am I?” I asked him before turning to Sasha. “Did I sound like I was bluffing?” Sasha shook his head. So, I turned to Lev and asked, “Am I bluffing, brother?”
To which Lev responded a detached, “No. You aren’t. Brother.”
And just to prove it, I jerked my chin toward the men standing off to the side. Without a word between us, they picked up their cells and made the calls, putting each of their devices on speaker.
Alessio turned his phone on speaker. “Roam. Striker here,” greeted the leader of Striking Vipers. “What can I say, my friend? A marker is a marker. It is our way. All debts must be paid.”
And Roam’s jaw flexed.
Then Philippe lifted his own cell. “Greetings and salutations, Roam,” uttered Arthur, the British expat who was the newest face of The Overcoat Army, in his dignified accent. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but Chaos and my family go way back. Much further than you and me, I’m afraid.”
Roam closed his eyes, and the taut expression he wore said he was ready to lose his shit.
Laredo placed one phone on the bar.
“Hola, Roam. Catalina aquí,” spoke the husky female matriarch of Soldadas De Satana. “You know I like you, Roam. This is nothing personal.”
And when Roam opened his eyes, he trained his black, inhuman gaze on me and uttered the words he said to me not so long before. “Business rarely is, Cat.”
When Laredo held up my own cell, Ettore, Malocchio’s capo, spoke through a sigh, clearly not wanting to start a war with his closest ally. “Listen, Roam. I got mad love for ya, but this was unavoidable. My balls are in a vice, and I’d like to keep ’em from getting cut clean off.” He then offered a sincere, “I’m sorry.”
Roam lowered his staggered face and began to laugh, finally realizing that what happened next was his decision and his alone.
Just how much did he crave war?
Enough to lose everything?
I didn’t know. He was crazy enough to try for both war and a win.
Roam finally lifted his face, and as he began to nod slowly, his lips pursed, I could see it. He was surprised. There was something else in his gaze. An appreciation of some sort. He appeared almost impressed.
My shrug was light. “Tell me I’m bluffing.” The fight was building in him, but I wasn’t here for that. I was here for her, and showing him up was icing on the cake. “Chaos was a huge firm. We ran this fucking city. We ran it well; we ran it with style. We did it right. And while you collect your broken dolls, we collected powerful allies. Ones that remain loyal to us because we didn’t beat them into submission and demand respect. We offered our support. We earned those markers.”
Roam’s jaw tightened at the insult. I didn’t care.
“I know this won’t break you. I know you’ll be able to recover from it.” I shot him a knowing look. “But you’ll suffer for it. Recovery will take time I’m not sure a growing trademark like yours has, because we know how it goes. You lose an inch of power, and someone comes after your throne. And then where will that army of yours go? Are they loyal to you, I wonder? Or will they mutiny and move on at the first sign of weakness?” Roam’s stare turned dull, and he actually seemed to consider my words. “If you want a war, I’ll give you one, but I am going to be dead honest,” I laid my final card out. “I have nothing left to lose, and that makes me one dangerous motherfucker.”
Roam stared off into space a moment, and when he said the beautifully defeated words, I almost tilted my head back and roared with the victory.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing” was my sincere reply.
Roam chuckled with clear skepticism. “Don’t fuck with me.”
“We’re not,” uttered Sasha. “We don’t want a fight. War isn’t our style. We don’t want to make an enemy of you, Roam. We aren’t that stupid. We just want Nastasia back, unharmed.” The eldest Leokov took pause. “And because you aren’t the kind of man who gives something for nothing, perhaps you and I can come to some sort of arrangement. One that will keep us both happy.”
Roam looked uninterested. “What could you possibly offer me that I don’t already have?”
I hated that Sasha had to do this, more because I was the cause. And when he said the words, I knew there was no going back. “I’d prefer to discuss it in private, but I assure you, it’ll be worth your while.”
Roam stared at the eldest Leokov a long moment. “You wanted out so bad. You step so much as a toe back into this pool, and you’re gonna have the sharks circling. You sure you want that?”
I watched my best friend take a moment before he responded, “My family is grown. My time as caregiver has come to an end. It’s clear to me now,” explained Sasha. “I was always destined to be part of this world, even if from a distance.” Sasha was an intelligent man, and he planted the seed he planned to sow right away. “It’s always smart to have a hidden weapon in your artillery. I could be yours.”
When Roam’s head tilted slightly, it wa
s clear Sasha had gained his attention. “An unknown variant.”
“A silent partnership,” Sasha proposed, because Sasha was no one’s employee. He wasn’t the kind of man you bossed around.
A short silence passed, not uncomfortable but thoughtful. Time needed to consider all options and outcomes. Whether the costs outweighed the gain. Roam laid his intense yet suspicious gaze on Sasha, and when he saw nothing but sincerity in Sasha’s words, he waved his hand, and a goon turned and walked right out the door. Surprisingly, Roam took a step closer, peering around the club with interest. “Nice place you got here. What’s your turnover like?”
Sasha simply returned, “Comfortable,” and Roam smirked at him knowingly. Bleeding Hearts was the hottest joint on this side of town. Of course it did well. We were killing the competition without a blade or gun in sight.
And because I really didn’t like Roam, I threw the words back in his face, uttering blankly, “Yeah. Not bad for the damaged, the reckless, and the mad.”
Roam stilled a moment before his lips stretched into a wide grin. Shaking his finger in my face. “I knew I liked you. And I am rarely impressed. Ballsy as fuck, I tell ya.” He then licked his lips and said, “What do I have to do to get a drink around here?”
Lev muttered an impassive, “Ask for it.”
Roam’s brow rose at the level of attitude from the unbending man. “Whisky neat.”
But Lev did not move. No one did. We waited, and as we did, Roam removed his jacket, revealing his discreet leather shoulder holster and shiny silver piece. He placed his jacket neatly onto the clean bar, then removed his cufflinks one by one, slipping them into his pocket before rolling up the sleeves of the crisp white shirt under the tailored, navy vest.
All eyes were drawn to him, yet my own were trained on the door.
With every second that passed, I found it harder and harder to breathe. The anticipation was killing me.
The sound of approaching footsteps had me straightening. I took a single step forward, and the moment she was pulled in by a rough hand on her upper arm, a coarse sack over her head, I saw red.
My heart beat behind my eyes. The whooshing sound of blood rushing through my ears deafened me. I kept my gaze locked on her as my feet began to move. I walked then marched, and when I was close enough to get my hands on the goon who had his hands on my woman, I put my hands to his shirt, gripped hard enough to rip the material, and let out an abrasive, “Get your fucking hands off of her,” before shoving him away hard enough to make him stumble.
My stance known, the second goon stepped back with his hands up, and the second I looked down at her, I finally began to breathe again. My heart beat off-rhythm, loudly. Reaching out, I carefully removed the sack from her head, and she squinted, blinking away the darkness.
The moment our eyes met, her pretty face went from mad to miserable, and her shoulders slumped. She breathed out, “Vik,” and the entire world fell away.
It was a plea. A prayer. An antidote to the poison she swallowed.
It was everything.
She was everything.
My heart. My soul. My very reason for existing in this shitty, fucked-up realm. And I would be damned if anyone thought to separate us. What we had was permanent. Everlasting. Nothing but death could part us, and even then, I’d spend my afterlife looking for her.
Without Nastasia, life simply wasn’t worth living.
My throat tight. I swallowed past it, reached out, and pulled her into my arms, enfolding her in warmth and safety. Resting my chin on the crown of her head, I spoke low, “I need to hear you say it. Tell me you’re okay, baby.”
“I’m okay,” she whispered back, her hands moving desperately, gripping at my back tightly, grasping anywhere they could reach.
I loathed to ask. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
She shook her head against my chest, pressing into me as if attempting to merge us into one single being. “I want to go home, Vik.”
Of course she did.
No problem. Anything she desired was hers.
Roam looked at Nastasia in a way I didn’t like before taking a seat at the bar. “I’ll take that drink now.”
Lev shot Sasha a glance and, at his nod, moved around the bar to pour him a glass.
“We’re leaving,” I announced, and the moment we turned to walk out, I heard him.
“Where are my manners?” I twisted back to see Roam staring down at Nastasia with hooded eyes before he lifted his whisky and uttered, “I hear congratulations are in order. To Viktor.” My confusion apparent, he made a whole show of it, appearing contrite as he shook his head lightly and stated, “Oh dear. I forgot. He doesn’t know, does he?”
Nastasia’s spine turned rigid. I pulled her closer and frowned at Roam. “What are you talking about?”
Nastasia’s weak statement was directed at the man sipping his whisky. “Please don’t.”
But Roam acted as though he didn’t even hear her. “Nastasia is pregnant.” My stomach dropped. “You’re going to be a father.” It fell even lower as he lifted his glass and saluted us with a caustic smile. “Mazel tov.”
My entire body stilled. My heart stopped beating altogether.
No.
I didn’t hear what I just heard. I couldn’t have.
No.
It was a joke. A prank.
It had to be.
But… he didn’t stutter. In fact, what he said was very clear, with flawless delivery, meant for shock value. And it definitely delivered.
My mouth dried as I struggled to concentrate. And amongst the confusion and panic, I managed to shift my focus to Nas, who…
Are you fucking kidding me right now?
…looked guilty as hell.
At a glance, Sasha’s surprise matched my own. Lev simply stood there, emotionless and stiff. Philippe frowned at his ex-fiancé, while Alessio’s brows rose to the roof. Meanwhile, Laredo peered at Roam with a face I could only describe as fatherly disappointment.
The flurry of emotions I felt tripled when my hold on her weakened. Her desolate eyes locked on me and looked around before peering back at me, throwing out a delicate but despondent, “I was going to tell you.”
What?
What?
I felt sick.
A father. Me. A baby. In her.
I couldn’t even begin to process.
“Vik,” she called out to me, but it sounded muffled.
Suddenly, my manner changed, and anger flooded me, stripping me limb from limb. Before I lost my shit, I began to walk.
“Vik, wait!”
No. We weren’t doing this here, now, in front of him. I kept walking, and when she caught up to me, I felt her sorry gaze on me.
“Please.” The tearful plea broke my damn heart.
Yeah, I was pissed, but she was my woman, so I slowed my steps, took a deep breath, and offered my hand to her. The relieved breath she took was audible, and the moment her small, cold hand slipped into mine, my anger dimmed. Her fingers entwined in mine, and although I refused to look at her, I gave them a consoling squeeze. From the corner of my eye, I saw her turn to look at me every now and again, but she smartly remained unspeaking.
My jaw tensed so hard my head ached.
Nastasia had some explaining to do.
When I got her home, when she was clean and fed and settled, we were going to talk.
And me, feeling the way I was?
Shit.
God help her when we did.
35
Nastasia
There were two ways to look at this situation.
The good news was that Vik now knew, and although admittedly it was a shitty way for him to find out, I was relieved it was now out in the open. The bad news was that from the way his jaw steeled, this was news he didn’t want to hear. And that was exactly why I wanted to put off telling him for a while. At least until I had a plan.
I could tell Roam got some sick sense of pleasure revealing my secret, a
nd I knew why.
It was punishment, plain and simple.
Roam wasn’t the type to take kindly to manipulation, and yes, I manipulated him.
Who could blame me? I didn’t know if the guy was going to kill me or not.
Castor’s small offering of advice kept me safe for a while until I’d blown it by unknowingly setting Roam off with something so simple as a touch. I was still puzzled by it, but it was clear that Roam did not like me knowing I affected him so. And so he thought to get back at me, doing it in the cruelest way possible.
I shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. I don’t know why I did.
When we pulled up to my house, I could already see changes had been made. The front door was different, looked larger in some ways, heavier, reinforced. The alarm box out front had been altered, so I could only assume I’d gotten an upgrade in the past day or so. There were small black cameras that weren’t there before, pointing in every direction.
My heart ached at the sentiment behind it all.
I could only guess that this was done in the hopes that after all that happened over the last few days, these changes might make me feel safe again in my own home.
It was too soon to tell.
Vik turned off the car and sat in place, looking straight out the window as he spoke without feeling, “We are going to go inside, and you are not going to speak.” My heart ached at the disconnect I felt, but he was furious. I got it. “You are going to shower while I fix you something to eat. After you eat, I’m going to check your body over to make sure you’re okay.” And just as I opened my mouth to reiterate I was fine, he cut me off with a wave of his hand and a bitter laugh. “I think you’ll forgive me for not taking your word for it right now.” My lips thinned. “After I’m sure you’re fine and I can finally take in a breath without feeling like I’m choking,”—Oh, sweetheart—“we are going to talk, and you are going to explain why I had to find out what I just found out the way I did.”
He told me not to speak, and I didn’t want to push my luck, so I simply nodded.