Drago (Dangerous Love Book 3)

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Drago (Dangerous Love Book 3) Page 17

by Kristin Alexander

Drago: Are you?

  Katya: No comment.

  Drago: Exactly. Got to go. Stay put, Katya.

  Katya: I will. I won’t step outside this apartment.

  Drago: You better not.

  Katya: Or else what?

  Drago: I don’t have time to deal with a hard dick right now, Katya, but you’ll find out when I get home.

  I felt a zing between my legs, still trying to imagine what he had in mind. I was distracted from my increasingly dirty thoughts by the sound of the doorbell.

  I ran to the door and threw it open, assuming it would be Hannah, but shocked to find Ivan standing there.

  “Ivan!” I happily exclaimed as I threw myself in his arms.

  He caught me. “Hello, sestrenka,” he murmured, giving me a tight hug.

  I pulled back and dragged him into the apartment.

  “Seems like a lot has happened since I’ve been gone,” Ivan said sardonically as he took in the apartment.

  I blushed. “Yeah, you could say that,” I murmured. This was awkward, having Ivan visit me at the apartment I was living in with Drago—the guy I was obviously sleeping with.

  Ivan looked the place over, and I took the opportunity to look him over. He appeared more remote every time I saw him. His facial features looked hard, as if he rarely smiled. His hair, a deep brown color several shades darker than my own, contrasted with eyes that were the same hazel green as mine, but much colder. He would be considered classically handsome if his features weren’t so taciturn and harsh. Couple all that with imposing height, and he struck an intimidating presence.

  “So, I heard you nearly got abducted today. How the hell did that happen? I thought Drago practically had you under twenty-four-hour surveillance.”

  I sighed. “It was totally my fault. He left men here to protect me, but I sent them off to pick up some stuff for me. I didn’t think I’d be going anywhere, but then Anya texted me, and she was having…personal issues, so I figured I’d run up there real quick. Except it wasn’t Anya, it was Orlov.”

  Ivan crossed his arms and pinned me with an incredulous look as I ticked off my list of bad decisions.

  “I already said it was my fault. You don’t have to look at me like that.”

  Ivan shook his head and snorted. “Drago must have lost his shit.”

  “He wasn’t pleased,” I understated.

  “I bet.” He sighed. “Another reason not to have personal relationships,” he murmured.

  He said it under his breath, but I was jarred by his statement. “Ever?”

  His brow drew together. “I don’t know, probably. I have no time for a relationship, jumping back and forth from Moscow and Chicago. I also have no desire for one. It’s a lot of hassle for very little reward. It’s not like I can’t just pick up some girl if I want—” he stopped short and shot me a self-deprecating smirk. “Sorry, but you know what I mean.”

  I knew what he meant, but I was disturbed Ivan had such a low opinion of relationships, so I decided to needle him a bit.

  “What about Emmy?”

  His head swung around sharply, his expression like a storm cloud. “What about her?”

  I shrugged innocently. “I don’t know. You seemed kind of interested in her at my graduation party.”

  “She’s in fucking high school, Katya. Are you crazy?”

  “Is that the only thing holding you back? I mean, Drago met me when I was high school. Nothing happened then, of course, but I’m just saying.”

  “Fuck no, that’s not the only reason. She’s a kid, she’s vulnerable and messed up after what happened with Yuri. The last thing she needs is me dragging her into this world.”

  I was shocked at what he was revealing. Did he realize how he was speaking about Emmy? “So, you’re interested in her?” I asked slowly.

  “What? No. No, of course not. Like I said, she’s a kid. I’m not interested in her romantically. I just,” he shook his head, as if trying to clear it, “I saw how traumatized she was after all that shit with Yuri. It was fucked up. I’d feel bad about anyone in her situation.”

  I blinked at him and was shocked to realize that I didn’t believe him. I didn’t believe that he wasn’t interested in Emmy. I glanced at my door, remembering that she and Hannah would be here any minute. “Um, Ivan, about Emmy, I should mention—”

  The elevator from the parking garage dinged, and we watched Hannah and Emmy spill into the apartment. I was always struck by how much they looked alike, but still looked individually distinct. They both had dark brown hair and pale eyes, but Hannah’s were dark blue, almost violet, while Emmy’s were a unique combination of light blue with gold at the center. Emmy was also about three inches taller than Hannah, and her frame willowy rather than curvy. Both were undeniably beautiful.

  Emmy gasped. “Ivan?”

  I watched Ivan’s body become a block of wood. He didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared at Emmy in silence, his jaw tight with tension.

  After a moment, Ivan pulled his gaze away from Emmy and turned to me. “I’ve got to go meet Drago at the warehouse. We’ll catch up later, sis.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek and headed to the door.

  I looked back at Emmy, who was still standing in the same spot staring at the door Ivan just exited through. Her face still held a look of stunned disbelief.

  Hannah reached out and touched Emmy’s arm. “You okay?” she asked gently.

  Emmy shook her head. “Uh, yeah, I was just…surprised to see him.”

  I looked at Emmy, not surprised to see that she was still very attached to Ivan. Ivan saved her from Yuri a couple of years ago, and during the trauma of it all, Emmy had connected with Ivan and glued herself to his side. He handled it with such surprising sensitivity, Emmy apparently still hadn’t gotten over him.

  If Emmy ever tried to make her move on Ivan, she’d have a tough road ahead of her. While a part of me wanted to save her some heartache and warn her off trying to pin down someone as closed off and difficult as Ivan, I could hardly make that case given my own long-term infatuation with Drago. Given his earlier comments, maybe she could get through to him.

  Hannah glanced at her sister, concern stamped all over her face, but then turned to me and pulled me into her embrace. “What a day! You and Anya get nearly abducted and murdered, and then Ivan shows up! Are you alright?”

  I laughed and returned her hug. “Well, those aren’t exactly equivalent events, but yes, I’m okay.”

  Hannah chuckled and pulled back. “True, true, although I don’t know if Emmy would agree with you. I bet she sees Ivan showing up at the more noteworthy event, eh, Emmy?” Hannah nudged Emmy with her elbow, clearly trying to lighten the energy.

  Emmy gave a weak laugh. “Yeah, it’s just weird seeing him. I haven’t seen him since your graduation, Katya. He looks so tired,” Emmy murmured.

  “Yeah, he just flew in today, so it’s probably jet lag. Not to mention Moscow is nine hours ahead, so he’s probably been up for nearly twenty-four hours.”

  Emmy’s brow puckered. “He keeps such a crazy schedule.”

  I cocked my head. “How do you know that?”

  Emmy looked at me, startled, and shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know anything. I mean, I just assumed, based on what you were saying, that his schedule was hectic.”

  I looked at her suspiciously. It sounded like she was…lying. But why? Was it possible she and Ivan have been communicating? I couldn’t imagine it—he practically ran out of here like his pants were on fire when she arrived. Not exactly the behavior of a devoted pen pal. However, he also seemed more interested in her than he wanted to admit. Who could understand men, particularly a man as inscrutable as Ivan?

  “Okay, ladies, I dragged you here to help me redecorate this place. It desperately needs it!”

  Emmy gratefully leapt on the topic change. “Of course! Let’s get started.”

  Hannah wandered toward the kitchen. “What do you have to eat? I’m starving!”

  “I
have a tray of food on the counter. Bring it in here, and we’ll discuss what to do with this place.”

  Hannah returned with food. “Katya, I cannot believe you asked me here to help you decorate—you remember what I looked like when we met!”

  I laughed at the memory of Hannah when she used to wear a series of shabby, oversized outfits and big, crooked glasses to hide herself from a crazy former classmate who started stalking her. While her clothing had been ill-fitting and dull, I still think she looked adorable when I met her, though she doesn’t believe me. “It wasn’t that bad, Han.”

  She shot me a deadpan look. “Wasn’t it? God, when I look at pictures from then—yikes!”

  Emmy laughed and patted Hannah on the back as she dipped a pretzel in a bowl of hummus. “Katya is right, Hannah. You didn’t look that bad.”

  “Oh my god, you guys are sweet, but you need to stop. I looked terrible. But more importantly, I still need Katya’s advice on clothes to this day, so I don’t know what I am going to contribute to this apartment makeover.”

  “You can just sit there and keep us company while we redecorate, no pressure. How about that?”

  Hannah smiled and gave me a thumbs-up, her mouth full of crackers and cheese.

  I grabbed a couple of shopping bags and dragged them over to the couch for Emmy and me to start sorting through them when there was a knock on the door.

  When I pulled the door open, I saw Anya standing there, her face a picture of misery. She threw herself in my arms, hugging me tightly.

  “Oh my god, Katya, I still can’t believe I let that asshole get the drop on me. Can you forgive me? I didn’t know what to do, and I figured Drago would have you followed and microchipped by now, and he’d show up instead.”

  “Anya, I told you earlier, it’s okay. You had a gun to your head—what were you supposed to do? Take a bullet?”

  I thought she’d laugh, but she didn’t. “Believe me, that is definitely Drago’s expectation if one of us is protecting you. He’s said it enough times,” she muttered.

  My jaw dropped. “What? He told you guys you were expected to sacrifice yourself for me?”

  Anya’s pale eyebrows jumped. “Of course. We, well mostly Will and Boris, are your protection. That’s what protection means.” She frowned at me. “You should know that, Katya.”

  She was right. I wasn’t exactly new to the mafia. “I guess…I never thought of it that way. I don’t know how I feel about someone possibly dying in my place.” I did know how I felt. I didn’t like it. It would change some of my decisions in the future, knowing I could get someone killed. I hadn’t necessarily behaved recklessly in the past, but I wasn’t thinking about someone getting killed because of my actions either.

  I pulled her in for a quick hug. “Please don’t worry. It’s over now, so no sense in stressing out about what might have been. And you got loose and took him by surprise, so who’s to say you wouldn’t have been able to get us out of there if Drago and his men hadn’t shown up?”

  Anya gave me a proud half-smile. “Good point.”

  I shooed her in the room. “Go grab some food. You’ve got to tell us what happened with Callahan.” As I said that, I noticed that Anya was wearing different clothes than earlier. The fact that she changed her clothes wasn’t as noteworthy as what she was now wearing. She wore a pair of tight skinny jeans, low boots, and a wide-necked long-sleeved shirt. In fact, it was the most effort I’d seen her exhibit in terms of fashion. Was she wearing makeup?

  Anya flushed bright red and frowned. “There’s not much to tell.”

  “Hey, Anya! Are you okay?” Hannah asked as we entered the living room.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m super embarrassed about Orlov getting the jump on me, though,” Anya grumbled.

  I was still staring at her clothes. “Did Callahan pick out those clothes?” I blurted out as I walked back to the couch. I couldn’t help myself from asking.

  Anya looked at me in shock as she plopped on the couch and grabbed some crackers. “Why would you think that?”

  I smirked at her. “I’ve lived with you for years, Anya. You’re usually in a pair of sweatpants. If not sweatpants, then it’s leggings with an oversized sweatshirt. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with comfortable clothes, but this outfit is not something I’d ever seen you wear. I didn’t even know you owned those boots.”

  Anya squirmed slightly. “I’ve taken a new interest in my appearance. I mean, when you have a gun shoved against your head for an hour, you take stock of things,” Anya mumbled, fixating on the plate of vegetables rather than the three intensely curious faces staring back at her. She sighed and put down the food. “Callahan was keeping tabs on me! He probably saw pictures of me, and I had no idea. I wished I’d been paid some attention to what I was wearing. God, I probably looked like a homeless person to him half the time.”

  I wanted to laugh, as it was so strange to imagine Anya being vain enough to worry about how she looked to Callahan. “It obviously didn’t alter his feelings for you, if today was any indication,” I said.

  “Callahan was keeping tabs on you?” Hannah asked, her eyebrows jumping to her hairline.

  “Who’s Callahan?” Emmy asked in confusion.

  Hannah turned to Emmy and gave her the Cliffs Notes version of Anya and Callahan’s relationship, including how Callahan figured into this stuff with Yuri.

  “So, what happened?” Emmy demanded to know now that she was caught up.

  Anya flopped back. “Me and Callahan talked. He still seems pissed at me.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “If you expect us to be satisfied with that summary, you’re crazy.”

  Anya winced a little. “God, girl talk is awkward. Okay, he dragged me to my bedroom, pushed me against a wall, and sort of,” she blushed again and awkwardly moved her hands. “You know, we…we fooled around a little. Then he abruptly pulled away, scowled at me, and told me to make sure I let his men protect me, which is fucking crazy because I can protect myself. Well, normally, I can protect myself. The thing with Orlov was an outlier. Then he stormed out to meet Drago somewhere, and now I’m here.”

  I gave her an assessing look. “I feel like you’re leaving out all the best parts, but since divulging all aspects of your sex life to your lady friends is new to you, I’ll let it slide.”

  She shot me a deadpan look. “Gee, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. So, are you guys together now, or what?”

  Anya crunched slowly on a celery stick. “I don’t think so. He wasn’t exactly throwing roses at my feet. He was just kind of tossing around all kinds of orders, and then he said he had to go. Like I said, he still seemed mad at me, though he’s texted me twice to make sure I don’t try to lose the guy tailing me.”

  I chuckled. “He knows you pretty well, then. You’re so stubborn.”

  Anya threw the rest of her celery at me, but a worried look crossed her face. “He’s talking to me, but I don’t know. It still doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like we’re together.”

  “Well, it sounds good to me,” Hannah said. “I mean, he’s making out with you, texting you, bossing you around, and making sure you’re protected—sounds like you got yourself a boyfriend.”

  I laughed. “Actually, he sounds a lot like your boyfriend.”

  Hannah shot me a tart look. “Um, do you really have room to talk on that front, Kat? I know Drago is having you protected around the clock because of Yuri, but do you think he’s going to act any different after that whole situation is handled?”

  Anya nodded. “Yeah, I have to second this, Katya. There is no way Drago is going to let up with you.”

  I sighed. “I know, I know. He’s already mentioned it.”

  “Does that bug you?” Emmy asked, digging through bags of my purchases such as pillows, candles, pictures, and other knickknacks and laying them on the floor and table.

  I shook my head. “Not really. I mean, it did when we weren’t together. Having hi
s men guard me was just another reminder of him and that he didn’t want to be with me.” I said, fingering the necklace at my throat. “The rejection…it was hard to handle.”

  I felt strangely vulnerable after admitting that and a tinge of heat flooded my cheeks. I darted a glance at the girls but found nothing but compassion and more than a little understanding. It’s not like they were dealing with easy men themselves.

  Anya patted my shoulder. “I get that. I mean, when Callahan blew me off, I could just delete any trace of him off my computer and put him out of my mind. I wasn’t surrounded by his soldiers every day. I mean, Jesus, you lived with me, and I worked for him.” Anya shook her head. “God, I’m sorry, Katya. I didn’t even realize.”

  I waved away her concerns. “Anya, please don’t worry about that now. First of all, Drago and I are together now, so it’s all water under the bridge. And most importantly, you’ve become one of my closest friends, so it was definitely worth Drago’s interference in making you my roommate.”

  Anya blushed. “Well, that’s a relief to hear.”

  “Okay, ladies, I need to makeover this apartment. It’s time we got down to business.” I said, eager to get off such a heavy topic. I needed this evening of mindless girl talk, pigging out, and deciding which throw pillows should be on which piece of furniture. It was injecting a slice of normalcy in a life that was anything but normal right now.

  Chapter 31

  Drago

  I stormed into the empty office of the warehouse, frustration writhing like snakes under my skin. I kicked the side of the old metal desk, causing it to crash into the wall.

  “How is it possible that fucker doesn’t know anything about Yuri?” I roared at Maxim. I’d spent hours practically taking that asshole apart piece by piece, but his story hadn’t changed much. He was either pathologically loyal to Yuri, or he didn’t know shit.

  Maxim crossed his arms over his chest, a raised eyebrow the only response to my atypical display of anger. “It seems like they were Orlov’s men. I don’t think they had much interaction with Yuri.”

  I glanced down at my phone and found a text from Ivan. He was on his way here right now. Good, I could use him. He might know more about the people Yuri was running with through his connection to Mikhail.

 

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