by Cole, Jagger
“Niko,” he says quietly. “I would very much like to speak with my daughter.”
18
Belle
The bathroom door creaks and almost smashes. I hear the sound of metal clanging to the ground. Then it yanks open, and standing right there, is Niko.
I slap him, hard.
He winces, but he doesn’t step back. He just turns his back to me. “Baby…”
“Don’t you ever do that again,” I sob as I fall into his arms. After all the shooting outside going silent, all I could imagine was that he was dead.
I hug him so tight I’m sure I might break him in half, except for the fact that he’s basically made out of iron. I look up, and I whimper when his mouth crashes into mine. He holds me just as tightly, kissing me deeply as I cling to him.
When he pulls back, he frowns. “There’s… someone…” he looks away. “You need to come out.”
He holds my hand as I step out of the motel bathroom and into chaos. I’ve been screaming, hands over my head as I laid in the tub. Every shot, I thought he was dead. Every death scream, I sobbed thinking it was his.
Now I see the war zone that was happening out here.
Almost the whole front of the motel room is gone. There’s barely a doorframe. The window is gone, as is most of the wall. Past it, men are using fire extinguishers to put out a flaming car. Another vehicle lies smoldering on its top. Bodies and bullet-holes litter the scene.
And in the middle of all of it stands a tall, broad-shouldered older man in an expensive suit, with dark hair silvering at the temples. When he sees me, his jaw clenches, and his eyes spark.
I frown and turn to Niko as we pause in the broken doorway.
“Who—
“Yuri Volkov,” Niko says quietly. His brow furrows. “Belle, he’s…” he frowns. “He says he’s your father, love.”
The ground gives out. The world seems to go sideways as the breath leaves my lungs. I turn, staring haggardly at the man in the suit standing amongst the chaos.
He looks right back, without blinking.
“I’ve watched you, Belle,” he says quietly in a heavily accented, deep voice. He steps closer. But when my hand clenches Niko’s, he stops. “Your whole career, I watched—”
“Are you lying to me?”
His mouth shuts. He shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly. “I have no reason to.”
I smile thinly. “You know you’re not the first man to tell me that?”
He grimaces.
That’s not a lie, either. Three men over the last ten years or so, since I got famous, have come forward claiming they were my dad. One actually was an old fling of my mom’s. But way before I was conceived. The others were just run of the mill liars.
“Well?” I snap.
“I know I’m not. And unlike the others, I can prove it if you wish.”
I swallow.
“I mean right now, Belle,” he says gently. He slips his hand into his suit jacket and pulls out an envelope. He walks closer, and I bristle. Niko squeezes my hand and steps forward to take it from the older Russian man. He passes it to me, and I open it. Inside there’s a DNA comparative including mine, and this man’s.
My eyes fall to the “conclusion: 100% match” at the bottom. My heart twists. I stumble back, and the letter falls from my hand. I gasp, sucking in air as I raise my gaze to look at him coldly.
“How long have you known?” I hiss.
Pain clouds his face. “Belle, you need to know that I cared for your mother. I genuinely cared for—”
“How long!” I roar. I’m seething. It feels like my skin is on fire, and like my jaw might wrench itself off.
Yuri’s mouth thins. “A few months after she died. I used my influence to DNA trace you—”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m sorry—”
“I said fuck you,” I snap. “You knew—” I shake my head and my hands come up to hold my face.
“I wanted to come tell you,” he growls. “I did. But I did not want you to be a part of this world of mine—the world I exist in. Not ever.”
I open my eyes and look at the man across from me. But I know the paper is true. He looks so much like me it hurts. The exact same eyes, same nose. The same dimple on his cheek.
“So I watched you from afar,” he says thickly. “I made sure you and your aunt didn’t need anything.”
I bristle. “Did you ever—”
“No,” he growls, like he’s reading my mind. “No, Belle, your successes are your own.” He smiles. “I’ve enjoyed your movies. You are very, very talented, you know.”
“I’m not looking for your feedback,” I spit.
He nods. “I understand what I am to you, Belle. I am well aware that being your biological father does not make me your dad.”
“No shit.”
He smiles thinly. “That spark you get from her, you know.”
“I do know that.”
He smiles again. “Your mother and I cared very much for each other. Not that you need the details, but you are not the outcome of a night out with too many drinks. She was my girlfriend of sorts, when I was living for a time in New York.” He snorts. “I know I’m old now, but I was handsome once. Your mother was a stage dancer at a nightclub I used to go to. We just… connected. I couldn’t look away from her.”
Tears start to well in my eyes as I think of my mom—even with all the darkness that comes with those memories.
“She was so beautiful, your mother,” Yuri says quietly. “So very smart, too. Just like you. For three months, she was my everything. I even considered giving up all of it…” he shrugs. “The empire, all of it up. And she loved me too,” he smiles sadly. “Except she loved the drugs more.”
He looks down.
“She quit those when she got pregnant, just so you know. She quit for you, for a time.” He looks up at me. “I didn’t know you were mine. She fought me, pushed me away. Told me she was seeing other men and that she didn’t love me. I don’t know if she was scared of being held down, or of my work. But that was it. She made up her mind, and she was gone. I had my hunches, but it wasn’t until later that I ran the test and knew.”
His eyes hold mine boldly.
“All I want is to talk to you” he says quietly. “I’m not looking to suddenly be your father.”
I swallow as the tears trickle down my cheeks. Slowly, I nod, not sure of what to say.
“I want you to know I am proud of you, as my blood,” he says tightly.
“We’re not family,” I say quietly.
He nods. “I know. But I would very much like to change that—”
“You held me fucking prisoner!” I yell. “You had me locked in a fucking house, doing these shitty fucking movies so you could launder—”
“No,” he growls sharply, shaking his head. “No, I did not.” His brows knit darkly. “I am afraid my influence over this organization has been spread too thin as of late. I allowed men like him…” he turns to glare at a body on the ground. “I allowed men like Vadik to manage things they should not have.”
He turns back to me, grimacing. “Strangers though we may be, you are my daughter, Belle. Vadik held sway over much of my interests in this country, but he got greedy. He wanted more, more, more. The money laundering thing was his pet project, and it is my shame that I did not see him keeping it from me until now.”
I stare at the headless body on the ground.
“Needless to say, that business venture has been closed,” Yuri says with a low growl. “I cannot say how sorry I am that this happened to you, Belle. The men loyal to this man will be dealt with brutally. The movies you did with him will be burned.” He shakes his head. “You have worked too hard making very good films for those to drag you down. Consider them bad dreams that never happened.”
Slowly, he turns his eyes to Niko, still standing next to me.
“You saved my daughter’s life, several times over. For that you have my gratitude.”
His mouth thins. “I’m aware there was a man under my employ for a time that hurt you greatly. A Fyodor Kuznetsov.”
Niko’s face tightens. “He’s dead. I killed him myself.”
Yuri smiles. “I know. And good. I like a man who is decisive and not afraid to seek vengeance on those who would hurt his family. I was going to say, as a thank you for protecting Belle, I would have given you this man. Since you’ve already dealt with it, I have another gift for you.”
He taps something on his phone and then turns the screen to us. I gasp when I see a video of a man tied to chair in windowless room.
“This is a live feed from Moscow. The man in the chair is the precinct chief that took a bribe from Kuznetsov to drop all investigation into your mother’s attack.”
Niko’s face goes white and numb. I reach for him, lacing my fingers in his and squeezing tight.
“This is the man that allowed your mother’s attacker to go unpunished for his crime,” Yuri growls. “You can either say the word, and I will have him killed right now for you to watch. Or I am more than happy to fly you to Moscow to kill him yourself.”
I blink, paling. I turn to look at Niko. He stares at the screen for a few seconds, not saying a word. His mouth thins, and he closes his eyes. Then, he takes a breath and opens them.
“The gesture is appreciated, Mr. Volkov. But I’ve already killed the man who hurt my mother,” he says quietly. He turns to look at me. He smiles privately and then turns back to Yuri. “I don’t need revenge anymore. I found something better.”
Yuri nods, smiling to himself. “As you wish.”
He turns to nod at two other men standing by the helicopter.
“The Kashenko organization has been extremely helpful to me in these matters with Vadik and my oversight here in the US.”
I frown. Kashenko…
I turn to Niko as the two men walk over. He smiles. “Belle, this is Viktor Komarov, the head of the Kashenko Bratva in Chicago. And this ugly fuck is his second in command and my brother, Lev. Guys, this is—”
“Yeah, we know who she is, dipshit,” Lev smirks at his brother and then turns to bow his head to me. “It’s great to meet you, Ms. Bardot. I hear you’ve been having a hard time getting my brother to stop following you around.”
I grin and slide against Niko’s side. “I think I’ve been the one he can’t shake.”
“I mean, surely there’s a Hemsworth brother you could better spend your time—”
“Hey Lev?” Niko smirks. “Go fuck yourself.”
All five us laugh, and Viktor puts his hand out. “A pleasure to meet you, Belle. My wife and I are huge fans.”
I blush. “Thank you.”
Viktor turns his gaze back to Niko. “Yuri and I have reached a mutually agreeable understanding once he was able to show me ample evidence of Vadik’s double-crossing. The hits on our interests were not Volkov sanctioned, same as Belle being forced into those contracts in LA. In exchange for our help in digging out the rot from the US side of his organization, we’ll be taking over a few interests. Needless to say, we have a full and mutually assured ceasefire.”
Niko raises a brow. “Really?”
“Da, really,” Yuri nods. “Furthermore, my organization will be absorbing the media heat for any of the… incidents that have transpired here. Including everything tied to this Daniel ublyudok,” he hisses.
“That’s ‘motherfucker,’” Nikolai whispers into my ear.
I giggle and turn to him. “I gathered.”
Viktor frowns, like this is new to him. “That’s a generous offer, Yuri. Are you sure? The American celebrity news cycle is vicious. The Volkov organization will get heat for this. And lots of it.”
Yuri shrugs with a sly grin. “Viktor, my family’s business has been operating since there was a Tsar sitting on Russian soil. I do not fear some bad publicity. Believe me, we have weathered much worse and been fine.”
Viktor puts his hand out. “Yuri, I think our organizations could go far together.”
The older man smiles warmly and shakes the offered hand. “That is my wish as well.”
He turns to look at me, smiling. “May I have a moment?”
I bite my lip. But then I turn to Niko and nod as I squeeze his hand. He glances at Lev and Viktor, and the three of them step away. I turn to eye my father.
“I meant what I said,” he says gently. “I know I’m not your dad. But we are blood. And I would like to start atoning for the sins of my past. I would like to know you, Belle. Even if it is just as casual friends who speak or have coffee occasionally.”
He clears his throat. “I am moving to Chicago for a time.” He quickly holds a hand up when he sees me frown. “It is strictly business, I assure you. I need to get a handle on our operations here and help oversee this truce with the Kashenkos. But since I will be here…” he shrugs. “If you ever wanted to—”
“Coffee and conversation would be nice,” I say quietly.
He smiles. “That makes me very happy.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds before I smile. “I might have to build up to hugging.”
He chuckles. “Understood.”
“I could do a handshake, though.”
My father smiles. His hand extends. So does mine, and we shake warmly.
“It is so good to meet you, my daughter,” he whispers.
“It’s good to meet you, too.”
The wind whips around as the helicopter raises up into the sky. The rest of the Volkov and Kashenko men on the ground are already pulling away in cars. And pretty soon, it’s just Niko and I.
“Helicopter would have been faster, you know,” he grins. “And classier.”
“True, but I’ve gotten pretty used to slumming it on the back of a motorcycle.”
He chuckles. He yanks me against him, and I gasp as I fall against his chest. I look up, moaning softly as his lips dip to mine. He kisses me slow and deep, until my toes are curling.
“I love you,” he groans into my lips.
“I love you so much,” I grin back.
Niko pulls away and nods at the motorcycle. “Well, your chariot awaits.”
I sigh. “What, no red carpet? No in-flight champagne?” I turn to frown playfully at him. “I’m very famous and rich, you know.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah. And you’re still a brat, you know.”
“And you’re still trouble.”
“I won’t change if you won’t.”
“Deal,” I giggle as I shake his hand. But Niko just grins and pulls me in for another long, slow kiss.
When he pulls back, he swings a leg over the bike and pulls me onto the back of it. The engine throbs to life beneath us, and my arms wrap tight around his waist. I hug him close, breathing in the scent of him.
And then we’re off—trouble and the brat, into the great unknown.
Epilogue
Nikolai
One Year Later:
My foot taps the floor onerously. I shift in the seat, sweating. I swallow, bringing a hand up to tug at the collar of my suit, feeling stifled.
But slowly, a soft hand lands on my other hand on my thigh and squeezes. I look down into her big blue eyes, framed by the hair she’s still got brunette. She grins at me.
“Um, I think I’m the one that’s supposed to be nervous, baby,” she giggles quietly as she leans close.
I grin. “Fair enough. I’ll be cool.”
I breathe, looking up at the famous actor on stage as he finishes reading out the names of the nominees for Best Actress in a Leading Role.
But fuck am I nervous. I guess that’s what being in love with someone does to you. You get nervous for them. You want to take it on yourself so they don’t have to. But then I roll my eyes at myself. I look back down at my wife, and I grin. She doesn’t look nervous at all.
And fuck, why should she be? She’s already beyond famous. But still, winning this would mean the world. Besides taking her from star to superstar, it
would just be a nice little bow on the entire ordeal from last year.
The final part of that chapter.
True to his word, Belle’s father had those two train-wreck films she made with Daniel burned—literally. The hard drives and everything. But the bratva movie, though done terribly, was a great script. Belle wanted to save that one. She even started her own production company and financed the reshoot herself.
They brought on a kick-ass, famous director and reworked the whole thing. Now, it’s up for picture of the year, with Belle up for best actress.
Goes to show how things can turn around, I guess. So long as you’ve got strength and heart.
A few of Yuri’s promises Belle had him back off on. Jim, her old agent, for instance. Yuri was ready to put him through a literal meat grinder. But Belle opted to just have him publicly disgraced and blacklisted from Hollywood for his role in her in-home kidnapping.
Yeah, she didn’t shy away from that. And Yuri was right—the Volkovs did take heat for it, and a lot of media scrutiny a criminal organization doesn’t need. But he stuck to his word. And I think that went far with Belle.
They’re not exactly going on family vacations together, but they’re slowly patching things up; making up for lost time, I guess.
Which of course leaves Daniel. Yuri and I had some real nice father-in-law, son-in-law bonding over how exactly we’d rip that little fucker apart. But then Daniel managed to do that all by himself. After Belle publicly accused him of drugging her and taking those pictures, a whole avalanche of other young actresses came out with similar allegations.
And some of them were young: the kind of young that makes taking pictures of them without clothes on a huge fucking felony. They found all sorts of other shit when they searched his Hills mansion: illegal firearms from him trying to play bratva bad boy, for instance. Plus, a Tony Montana amount of coke and other drugs.
When more and more started to come forward, Daniel’s whole phony world came down. He’s under house arrest right now waiting for one of his several federal trials. I’m still debating if I’ll swing by one night and cut his balls off, though.