by Nikki Ash
Focus, Kostas.
Estevan. We’ve sniffed him out, and as it turns out, he’s hiding in an apartment complex not far from the hotel. Either his money has run out, or he thinks he’s clever. Either way, we have eyes on him, and I’m coming for him.
“Where are you going?” Talia asks, looking up from her phone.
I wish nowhere.
She looks hot as hell in my T-shirt and a pair of tiny shorts as she scrolls through her phone.
“To work.”
“I want to come.”
Is she fucking serious right now?
“No,” I bark out, stalking from the room.
She huffs in exasperation and storms after me. “Kostas, stop.”
“I’m going to get answers from Estevan. It’s dangerous, Talia. Understand?”
Her nostrils flare. “Maybe I need a little danger in my life. You leave every day to go hunt badder bad guys and leave me to do what?” Her voice rises several octaves. “Watch fucking sunsets while I wait for you to come home? What century are we in?”
“Jesus, woman,” I snap. “I said no.”
She gapes at me, her blue eyes filling with tears, but anger makes her neck turn bright red. “Kostas…”
“Do you need more chocolate?”
Her lashes blink rapidly in confusion. “W-What?”
“To get over your hormones.”
She fucking attacks me. Claws bared. Hissing. A little roar of fury ripping from her. “You fucking asshole! How dare you blame this on my period!”
I catch her before she claws my eyes out and twist her around, pinning her to the wall. Her body heaves as she breathes heavily, her cheek smashed against the wall.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I demand, holding her tighter when she tries to escape.
“You!” she cries out. “You think I’m good for nothing but a good fuck or a blow job when the need arises.” A loud sob escapes her. “You don’t care about what I want, though.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“You said you wanted to go to school and I said fine—”
“You didn’t say fine,” she argues.
“And after breakfast this morning, we decided—”
“We decided nothing!”
“—that we’d go to dinner somewhere fancy—”
“I’m tired of eating and fucking and goddamn walks!”
When she starts to sob, I groan. Leaning my hips forward, I release her hand and reach up to brush her hair away from her neck. I kiss her sweaty flesh. “I’ve never been married before, Talia. I’m not good at this.”
Her body relaxes. “I’m not good at it either, but I know most normal marriages don’t work this way. The husband doesn’t lock away his bride and not expect her to go crazy from boredom.”
I nuzzle her hair with my nose. “Then what do you want to do?”
“Feel normal. Nothing about this feels normal.”
Sliding my palms to her waist, I pull away to twist her around. Her blue eyes glimmer with a myriad of emotions. “We’re not normal, Talia. You’re married to me. A fucking mobster. People hate me. People want to destroy what’s mine. You saw this firsthand at the hotel when that asshole tried to take you.”
Her brows furl together. “Staying locked up by myself all day long isn’t safe either.”
“And why not?” I demand, scowling.
“Because I can’t be happy that way. If I can’t be happy…if I don’t have family or friends…if I can’t go to school or fulfill my sense of purpose, why am I even here?”
I grip her jaw and glower at her. “What does that mean?”
“It means nothing,” she says gently. “But your mother was unhappy. Unhappiness is a poison that eventually will kill.”
As though she’s struck me, I stumble back. She lifts her chin, not backing down on her stance. I pace the floor, glaring at her. So what? She’d fucking off herself like my mother did? Because she’s fucking bored?
“We’ll talk about this later,” I snarl, stalking toward the door.
A loud crashing sound fills the room. When I glance over, I see pieces of ceramic shattered across the floor. She threw a fucking vase. At my head. Luckily for her, she missed.
“Kostas, so help me, if you walk out now…”
She doesn’t finish that statement.
“I don’t take lightly to threats.” I turn and narrow my gaze on her. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m educating you.”
“Go to fucking school. You happy?”
“In August I will be,” she says softly. “But what about now? Today?”
Thunder rumbles in the distance as though pleading her case.
“And, Kostas, so help me if you tell me to watch the storm roll in…”
I smirk. “Thunderstorms are beautiful.”
“So are long walks on the beach.” She smiles. “Maybe I want to see something not so beautiful.”
“You’re serious about going with me?”
“It sure beats sitting here by myself.”
I scrub my palm over my face. Adrian will give me his stupid little smirk when he sees I’ve given in to Talia and taken her on business. Women don’t go on business. But Adrian likes her sassy mouth, and if he were here right now, he’d probably help plead her case.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“You can go with me,” I agree. “But you listen to me. You don’t step out of line. It’s dangerous.”
She suppresses a squeal like torturing fucking Estevan is an exciting item on the honeymoon itinerary. “And then?”
“Dinner,” I growl. “I’ll take you to dinner where we can discuss whatever it is you did for enjoyment back in Italy that kept you from driving the ones around you crazy.” It would seem I need to spend a little more time getting inside that pretty head of hers that apparently runs constantly with all the things she’d rather be doing than being treated like a mafia queen who wants for nothing.
“I enjoyed pickling,” she deadpans, the corners of her lips twitching.
Cute, fucking sassy as hell girl.
“Go get dressed, smartass.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Five minutes, Talia, and I’m leaving you.”
“Fourth floor,” Adrian says from the passenger side.
Talia remains quiet in the backseat, but I can hear her fingernails tapping on her phone. I look in the rearview mirror. Her blond hair is pulled up in a neat bun. She wears a black T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. Hot as fuck wannabe bad guy killer who’s going to sit in the car and play Candy Crush. As though she senses me watching her, she lifts her big eyes to mine.
“I’m not sitting in the car,” she sasses.
I roll my eyes and Adrian chuckles.
“Give her a gun, Adrian,” I growl out. “She knows how to use one.”
“I do,” she assures Adrian.
“Yeah, I heard. Basil said you almost took out our boss.”
“Save your girl talk for later, ladies. We have an interrogation to attend. Are Felix and the team inside yet?”
Adrian nods. “They’ve staked out the whole building and have it surrounded. We have a clear shot to go inside on your call, Kostas. Room 414.”
“Let’s go,” I command, climbing out of the car and pulling out my H&K .45. The wind is whistling harder now as the storm rolls in, and rain sprinkles on my face.
Adrian stalks forward and I step aside to let Talia come between us. Her eyes are wide and worried, but she’s also eager too. I guess she really was bored as fuck if she’d rather come do this. As we creep down the hallway toward the stairwell, I can’t help but replay our fight.
My parents never fought.
At least not that I knew of.
Clearly, their fight was more like a war. Long lasting, no one wins, everyone damn near dies.
Mother is dead, Father nearly died, and Niles will die.
Whatever my parents had wasn’t normal. A
small glimmer of delight flitters through me. The stupid as shit argument Talia and I had was as normal as they come. My entire life I’ve lived an extraordinary life—one written in other men’s blood and my father’s endless supply of money. I used to watch the kids who’d come to the hotel with their families and they were happy. They were free to splash around at the pool, surf, and play sports. Aris and I? We watched as our father lectured about the importance of organized crime, dressed in our expensive-ass suits, and secretly wished for one day to be normal kids.
I never thought much about my future or my own kids. But the more I allow my mind to wander there, now that I have Talia as my wife, I can’t help but want them to have some normalcy. Talia grew up with her mom and was happy. I’m sure she did what all teenage girls did—crushed over boys, went shopping at the mall, and watched rom-coms. She very well could have been one of the carefree girls at the hotel diving into the pool hunting for plastic rings at the bottom.
I’m tired of being an outsider.
I want something genuine.
Fighting with Talia is both maddening and refreshing. She runs her mouth in ways that would get most men killed, but with her? I fucking stare at her, imagining all the naughty things I could do to her sassy mouth.
What was I thinking bringing her here?
As we reach the fourth floor, she smiles over her shoulder at me. So out of place. She looks like a fucking college girl on her way to toilet paper a frat house. Fuck. This is a mistake. I grab her bicep, ready to turn her back around, when Adrian wastes no time kicking the apartment door in.
“Stay close,” I bark at Talia, shoving her right behind me as I raise my weapon.
Her fingers clutch the back of my shirt as we stalk along the hallway toward the doorway where Adrian went inside. As soon as I creep around the corner, I see he’s in a scuffle with a tubby fucker.
They’re grunting, but Adrian has two hundred pounds of solid muscle on this big boy. Adrian clocks him hard in the jaw, sending the man stumbling back onto the bed.
“That’s Estevan?” I ask, walking inside the room, curling my lip at him.
“Yep,” Adrian grunts out.
Estevan swipes blood from his lip and glowers at me. For a man in his position, he should be begging, knowing what’s coming to him. “You killed my brothers,” Estevan sneers, confirming his identity.
“Fire killed Bakken,” I say, holding up one palm in defense, my gun still trained on him.
“Fire that you ordered,” Estevan hisses. His eyes dart just past me and his brows furrow. “Who the fuck is this bitch?”
I tense and crack my neck. “A ghost. Someone you can’t fucking see or talk to. You keep looking at her and I’ll relieve you of your goddamn eyes.”
Estevan snorts out a laugh, his attention back on me. “You’re going to kill me anyway, Demetriou.”
“I might let you live,” I taunt. “For the right information.”
“You. Killed. My. Brothers.”
“Technically, Cy did it to himself,” I say with a smirk.
Talia makes a small choking sound behind me, earning Estevan’s creepy stare.
“Listen,” I say as I walk into the room, nearing the bed. If he moves, I’ll put a bullet through his throat. “I just want answers.”
“I’m not talking to you.”
Petulant fucking man-child.
“Tell him what I did to Cy, moró mou.” I turn and give her a nod.
“He, uh,” she stammers. “H-He cut off his foot and beat him to death with it.”
Estevan’s face turns purple. “You motherfucker.”
“The motherfucker,” I correct. “The motherfucker who can end you with a bullet to the head before you can even glance at my wife one more time. But I’m giving you a chance here, man. Tell me who put the hit out on my father. You do that and I’ll let you go.” I motion toward the balcony.
“Your wife,” he grunts, licking his lips as he eye-fucks her just to piss me off. “It may not be me, but someone is going to use that to your disadvantage.” He lifts his hips in a salacious way as he stares her down. “And it’s going to hurt, baby. So goddamn—”
His words are cut off when I fire a round into his crotch. Blood blooms from where his hopefully mutilated cock lies in his jeans. He clutches the area in horror.
“Y-You shot my dick, you sick fuck!”
“I know it was the Galanis behind the hit, but I want to know who ordered it,” I bark out, stalking right up to him. “Tell me and I’ll allow you to die quickly unlike your rotten brothers. Keep evading the fucking question and you can live as a cockless roach never to fuck again.”
“You’re fucking blind, Demetriou,” he hisses. “Blind and a damn fool dragging your motherfucking wife here.”
I put another bullet in his thigh. He screams in pain, clutching both his thigh and his dick. “Tell me who ordered the hit.”
“Fuck you.”
Cocking my head at Adrian, I point at Estevan with my gun. “Pull his intestines out through the hole I made in his crotch. Then hang him with them.”
Talia gapes in horror, stumbling back a few feet.
Adrian starts forward and Estevan shakes his head.
“Just shoot me,” Estevan howls, waving his bloody hand in the air at us. “Fucking psychopaths.”
“Okay, then.” I pop off another round, blowing out a huge hunk of flesh in the middle of his palm. “Any more requests, Galani?”
He rolls on his side, writhing in pain. Felix stomps through the door, scowling. “Police are on the way.”
I nod at him. “Deal with them.”
“Sir,” he says before rushing out.
“You’re lucky they’re on their way,” I tell Estevan. “I was going to make you scream a little more before I put you out of your misery.”
“Just s-shoot me,” Estevan says through gritted teeth. “In the fucking head.”
“Tell me what I want to know,” I growl. “And the police won’t have to wonder how to put your mangled cock back together. I imagine they’ll be able to staunch the bleeding and get you to a hospital in time.”
“No,” Estevan moans.
“They’ll try to put it back together, but what a fucking mess, man. You really want to live your life with that messy meat show in your trousers?”
Estevan sobs. “P-Please, Demetriou.”
“Tell. Me.”
“Nikolaides,” he says, darting his eyes to Talia.
She gasps behind me, but I’m not easily fooled.
I won’t be played. So he figured out who she was. Big fucking deal. Not rocket science. She looks just like Niles. I’m not stupid like Estevan thinks.
“Have it your way,” I tell him. “Come, moró mou. Let’s go.”
“No! Kill me, motherfucker! KILL ME!” Estevan cries out. “I told you what you wanted to hear!”
I glower at him. “Exactly. I didn’t want you to tell me what I wanted to hear. I wanted you to tell me the fucking truth.”
He can bleed out or live for all I care. Estevan Galani is a roach. I will squash him eventually, but right now, I’m hunting a rat.
Talia
“What can I get you to drink?” the bartender asks with a flirty grin. Kostas and I have been back home for three days and I’ve had enough of hiding from Aris and being stuck in that damn villa, so I’ve ventured out. The hotel has six pools, each one with its own tiki bar. Aris favors the one on the east side, so I’m at the one on the west side.
“Can you make a strawberry lemonade vodka?” Maybe adding some alcohol to my usual lemonade will help to suppress the constant sense of boredom.
“I can make anything you’d like,” he says.
“And you’ll do it without ogling my wife, or I’ll fire you and then kill you,” Kostas says, having a seat next to me.
The bartender’s eyes widen, and he nods several times. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know she was yours.”
He stumbles over something behind
the bar and then goes about making my drink.
“Must you threaten every man who speaks to me?” I twist my head to the side, narrowing my eyes at Kostas. “At this rate, I’ll have nobody to talk to but you.”
“Is it really wise to start drinking at ten in the morning?” he asks, ignoring my question as the bartender sets my drink on the coaster in front of me.
“Would you like anything, sir?” he asks Kostas, who simply waves him off.
“What else do I have to do but drink?” I stand, and taking my drink with me, walk down the cobblestone walkway. I hear Kostas groan in irritation behind me, but I pay him no attention.
“I’m bringing in your father later to speak to him. Would you like to join me?”
“He’s not my father,” I correct. “And yes, I would like to join. Do you believe he put the hit out on your father like that fat man said?” I take a sip of my fruity drink. It’s delicious.
“No, I don’t believe Niles is stupid enough to do something like that. Try to steal you, yes? That was his way of trying to apologize to you. But hire men to try and kill my father, no. However, I would be a stupid man not to consider all the possibilities.”
“It’s too late for him to apologize,” I say. “I’ll never forgive him for what he did.”
We walk down a pathway I’ve yet to take, along the side of the cliff. The hotel is so big, I could probably take a different direction every day for a month and still not cover the whole property.
“Is being married to me so bad, moró mou?” Kostas asks.
I glance over at him, and for the first time, his eyes scream something that looks like vulnerability, maybe even insecurity. I must be seeing things because Kostas is the strongest man I know.
“It’s not the point,” I tell him truthfully, stopping and facing him. “If I had a child, I would do everything in my power to protect him or her. If I was dumb enough to have an affair with a powerful man’s wife and then drum up a debt worth millions of euros, I would never hand my child, my own flesh and blood, over to him to save myself.” I don’t realize tears have begun to fall down my cheeks until Kostas steps closer and swipes one away. “I would protect my child,” I say through a sob. “A parent is supposed to protect their child.” And then I add, “Like what your mom did for you.”