Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men #4) - Nancy Haviland

Table of Contents VENGEANCE ALSO BY NANCY HAVILAND Copyright PROLOGUE ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE TWENTY-SIX TWENTY-SEVEN TWENTY-EIGHT TWENTY-NINE THIRTY THIRTY-ONE THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE EPILOGUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS WANTED MEN GLOSSARY ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ULTIMATE VENGEANCE A WANTED MEN NOVEL

NANCY HAVILAND

ALSO BY NANCY HAVILAND WANTED MEN SERIES A Love of Vengeance The Salvation of Vengeance An Obsession with Vengeance

Copyright This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Text Copyright © 2016 Nancy Haviland All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without express written permission of the author. For permission requests, email [email protected] ISBN 978-0-9949024-3-6 Cover design by Cassy Roop, Pink Ink Designs Editing by Kristi Yanta, Picky Editor

PROLOGUE Sixteen months ago Still not sure if she should be afraid or excited, Sacha Urusski rushed down the sidewalk in the Financial District in Manhattan. For once, she barely noticed the intensely focused women rushing by. She didn’t see the briefcases or power suits and smart coats. She paid no attention to the important conversations they were having on their cell phones. Typically, when visiting her boyfriend at work, those things stood out. She usually left TarMor Inc. feeling inferior due to both her unfinished degree and lack of a high-paying job. Not today. Today she was a queen. She was the happiest, most successful woman walking these busy streets on her way to meet her equally happy and successful boyfriend. She pushed off the niggling of unease trailing her and made an amused sound under her breath as she neared her destination. Boyfriend was such a juvenile word. She wished she could call Alekzander her lover without blushing like the virgin she’d been when they’d met. But she wasn’t quite there yet, likely never would be. She wasn’t as sophisticated as he to use the title so easily. Having come to New York from a small town in Russia just over a year ago, her accent was heavy, her grasp of English still coming along, and, if she were honest, she still sometimes felt in awe of the man who’d chosen her to be his. Next month would mark their one-year anniversary. She smiled as she pushed through the revolving door and murmured a greeting to the regular security guards stationed at a long desk inside the entrance. The bald one came forward. “Uh, you here to see Mr. Tarasov?” His New York accent was almost as heavy as her Russian one. Sacha paused, nodding, too distracted by the butterflies multiplying in her

stomach to question why he was engaging her. He never had before. Normally, they nodded at her, and she went upstairs without exchanging more than a good morning or evening. “Yes. He and I— Oh.” She faltered and looked at her watch. “Has he gone already? I was to arrive at eight o’clock.” It was five minutes to. Maybe Alekzander had forgotten they were meeting here rather than at home. He had been unusually distracted this morning. She’d attributed it to him being tired as he’d kept her up until the early hours, focusing on her in their bed in an unusually intense way even for him. He’d burst into the apartment just before midnight, causing her to fumble the book she’d been reading. He’d scooped her from the sofa without a word, taken her into their bedroom, and hadn’t let up for hours. As wonderful as it had been, as she’d fallen asleep, more exhausted than ever, Sacha couldn’t help but feel something had been different. He’d been upset, his touch almost desperate, but because it had been so late she hadn’t wanted to press him for an explanation. Maybe he would talk to her about it now. “No, he’s, uh, he’s up there.” The guard shared a look with his co-worker who gave an almost imperceptible shrug. “Go ahead.” She moved to the elevator, and by the time the doors swooshed open on TarMor’s floor, the disturbing display between the men was forgotten. What would she say? He would be happy, right? How should she tell him? Right away? Or wait until they were having dinner. She should probably help him work through his upset from last night before bringing it up. How would he react? With anger? Would he feel as if she were trying to trap him? Or would he experience the same joy she was experiencing? Going left, she passed by the empty reception area and paced herself as she traveled the carpeted corridor that muffled the sound of her heels. She smoothed her dress over her hips, feeling that prickling in her palms and the soles of her feet that she always felt just before seeing him. Her feelings for this

man were overwhelming. They had been right from the start and had never settled into something she felt able to handle. She ran her hand over her still-flat abdomen just as she reached his office door. With her knees weakening, she took a slow breath to steady herself. He would know something was going on with her the moment he saw her. He was like that. So intuitive. He seemed to know things almost before she knew them herself. He said that was a talent of hers, but he shared it. Which was why she’d had the doctor’s appointment today. He’d arranged it because he’d been worried about her. She reached out and turned the knob, her incredible news rolling to the tip of her tongue. A joyous smile claimed her face as she stepped into the large office that already held so many good memories. Hundreds of fists layered her with punches. The blows landed on her stomach, chest, back, face, and head. Over and over. She blinked and choked back a gasp, and shattered into a million pieces. In reality, she was untouched and remained whole. A soft moan from across the way mingled with the strangled sound that escaped her at what she was seeing. Two occupants behind Alekzander’s large desk looked over. The woman stopped on the downward glide and rolled her hips as though she just couldn’t help herself. Bile filled Sacha’s throat, scorching it until her eyes watered. With the height of the desk being what it was, it was easy to see how Alekzander’s beautiful hands held the woman, her skirt bunched in his fists at her waist. Agony poured into Sacha’s every cell. At least the woman’s upper body was still covered, which was unusual considering Alekzander was a “breast man”—if that was the correct term. It wasn’t until her chest started to burn and little squiggly lines filled her vision that she remembered to breathe. She forced some air into her lungs and used the death grip she had on the doorknob to hold herself up as she stepped back out into the corridor. Not a word was spoken, no eye contact was made. She

couldn’t have looked away from the display of sex had someone put a gun to her head. Pulling the door closed, she stumbled down the hallway and slammed through the exit leading to the stairs. A high definition movie showcasing Alekzander’s glistening length moving in and out of that woman’s body played through her mind. The fact that Sacha hadn’t actually seen it didn’t matter, it was there anyway, becoming a permanent scar singed onto her brain. Why didn’t Alekzander care that she’d seen him in such a position? Because he doesn’t care about you, a saddened voice whispered in her mind. As she repeatedly swallowed, trying not to vomit, her heel slipped on the last step of the flight. She grasped the railing to keep from falling. Her raspy breathing sounded amplified in the empty stairwell as she pulled open the door in front of her. She needed to try twice because her muscles weren’t cooperating, but she finally got it and shuffled to the elevator as if she were a hundred years old. It took a short moment for the lift to arrived, and as she stepped into the thankfully empty car, she pressed the button for the ground floor and stared unseeing at the numbers as they flashed. Why was there no blood? She couldn’t understand it. How could these fatal injuries not be gaping wide and bleeding rivers? She put one foot in front of the other and retraced her steps through the lobby, passing the security guards who gave her sympathetic, pitying looks— their earlier behavior now made sense. Humiliation layered over her pain as she pushed her way through the door and lifted her thousand-pound arm to call for one of the taxis speeding by. Tires chirped as the driver swung to the curb. She got in, carefully placed her purse on her lap, and mechanically gave the driver the address to the apartment she and Alekzander shared. She was dropped in front of the luxury high-rise, and as she traveled up in yet another elevator, let herself into their quiet unit and packed only a few things, that insecure, reserved girl that lived inside her, the one who’d moved on her own from Russia to the United States with the hope of finding a good life,

screamed and screamed and screamed.

ONE Present day Amid Christmas decorations and colorful Chinese lanterns, Alekzander Tarasov sat at the long table in the small restaurant and looked around at his family. They were celebrating an engagement. Another one. His three best friends were wrapped protectively around their women, their contentment making everyone nearby want to kill themselves. Or maybe that was just him. His gaze swung away from all the happy when wind chimes tinkled, signifying the door was being used. In their line of work, it was ingrained to always be aware of who was coming and going— The sound of rushing water filled his head. Or was that blood? Because every time this happened lately and he snapped back to reality to find himself staring at a stranger, he bled. How often had he seen her across a busy restaurant? On the street? In a passing vehicle? In his fucking dreams? Too many times to count. Are you really seeing this? his brain asked calmly, forcing him to blink his burning eyes. Or have you manifested her because you need the visual so damn badly? His head was silent for a few seconds. And then the positive identification came, his mind whispering two beautiful words. Reverently. In a stunning relief. It’s her. Sacha. His angel. Please be real. He’d been searching for over a year for this one he’d pushed away so callously. Would have searched until the end of time. Because it had been proven that he simply could not live without her.

Even though he could barely grasp what this meant, everything in him once again centered, focusing on the woman he was destined to share his life with— The woman who’d just turned her head, as if in slow motion, to face a man who’d come up behind her. A man who placed his hands on her upper arms. A man who then bent forward to drop an intimate kiss to her temple. The roar that sounded off in Alek’s head was tortured and enraged, and without even being aware of it, he surged to his feet with his hand already closing around the nine millimeter under his jacket. A chair scraped, falling back to land on the tile, and before he could aim and take out the dreaded competition, his uncle was in front of him, blocking Alek from view of the other patrons eating their dim-sum. “Put that goddamn gun away!” Vasily whispered furiously in Russian. But Alek wasn’t listening. Because Sacha had glanced over at the commotion and was now staring right into his eyes with an expression of such shock, such horror, all Alek could do was try to deny he was seeing it. It should be love and tenderness in those gold eyes. This was wrong. All wrong. And then she was turning and rushing by the man at her back, who quickly and wordlessly followed her out with a concerned expression on his soon to be inanimate face. Alek immediately went to follow, his heart feeling as if it were tearing in half, but he was stopped by a python wrapping his neck in a tight hold and jerking him back around the corner into a narrow hallway that led to the restrooms. He struggled like a madman for a few seconds until a solid fist to the gut had him doubling over. His pride was all that kept him from vomiting on his shoes. But that’s what came after a hit from six-and-a-half-feet of impudence wrapped in a package of tattooed malice. Maksim Kirov was one of their organizations most respected and valued. He was also their resident hacker and one of Alek’s best friends.

“Sorry for that, brother,” Maks said, clearly meaning it. Then he held up his phone. Alek pulled in some air and looked at the face of the man who’d just left with Sacha. “Facial recognition software is fun. I’ll tell you who he is and where we can find them in five minutes, then we’ll go get her together.” Five minutes? On top of the sixteen months he’d already waited to reclaim what was his? Fuck no! Outwardly, he nodded, but the minute Maks let his guard down, Alek was shoving hard through the bodies in his way. A round of Jesus Christs followed him as he left the restaurant. Moving at a smooth but steady pace down the sidewalk, he leisurely did up the button on his black Tom Ford, uncaring that he’d left his coat behind. Barely felt the frigid bite of the early December evening. He was concerned about only one thing. Stopping her. He’d waited too long for this moment, and not a damn thing was going to stand in his way of getting to the one he so badly needed. Not his uncle, or his best friends; not even the woman herself, whose gloved fingers had just closed around the door handle to a sleek black Mercedes. “Sacha.” The volume of his voice was low, but the warning carried on the still air. As he spoke her name, his blood sped through his veins, energizing him, bringing him out of the death sleep he’d been in since he’d last seen her. “Do not open the door.” Her back went rigid at his quiet order spoken in Russian, and remained that way when she turned her head. Their eyes met, and Alekzander’s chest filled as that connection immediately breathed life into the walking corpse he’d become. A rich gold in color, and tipped up just slightly at the outer corners, her eyes had never failed to draw him in. One shy glance and he was lost.

She let go of the handle just as he reached her. And so it was on the sidewalk outside a small Chinese restaurant in lower Manhattan that Alek came face-to-face with his soulmate again for the first time in sixteen months. Sacha Urusski. The innocent girl whose heart he’d broken. And it was there that he fell in love all over again. Fell with a shattering speed. He landed, broken and bleeding, which was a state he’d become too familiar with in the time they’d been apart. He covetously took in the fair skin and the fragility of her jaw, and stared openly at the bow lips that were the softest he’d ever known. Her nose was dainty but was blessed with some character in the form of a graceful little bump on the slope that she’d always hated. He loved it. Her lush sable hair with its gold highlights had grown and now fell past her shoulders in loose, wanton waves. They stared through the cloud their exhalations produced in the cold air between them. Neither said a word. But then, that had been their way. Words hadn’t always been necessary. They’d met over two years ago when he and one of his friends had gone to a small diner after having attended a funeral. Sacha had been his and Gabriel’s waitress. Alek had taken one look at the angel—literally, as it had been the end of October and she’d been in wings and a halo for Halloween—and he’d known. Known without a doubt that she would be his. The rush of it at that moment had been so spectacular he’d refused the very idea of leaving that grungy little place without her. And he hadn’t. Fast forward eleven months to a heinous week spent deep in the family business. The dark week where his cousin’s wife and son had been taken by a rival family. Renee and Evan had been snatched from a local soccer field in broad daylight, and even though the organization had swiftly put together a search and rescue, it had been too late. Mother and son were sent back to Sergei, brutalized, unrecognizable. Alek’s control had fled, his emotions taking over. He’d followed through on an impulsive, fear-driven plan to get Sacha away from

even the possibility of something so inhumane and vicious happening to her. His means, though cruel, had been successful; he’d annihilated their relationship with one solid blow. He’d given up his life, to ensure she was able to live hers. It looked as if that’s exactly what she’d been doing. He could see her date in his periphery, looking over the roof of the car with interest while Alek looked at Sacha with wonder and she looked at Alek with apprehension. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.” Alek kept the conversation between him and Sacha by sticking to Russian. He wanted to vindicate himself with the truth right then, to convey his mountainous regret without the million words it would take, but he had to content himself with offering his hand, palm up. “I’ve been —” “Alek.” Dying without you, he finished silently when his uncle’s voice came from behind him. He briefly considered ignoring it. But couldn’t. His respect for this man was too great. Plus, when that note of warning came from the Pakhan of a powerful Russian crime organization, family or not, you gave it the deference it deserved. Alek slowly flipped his hand into a stay-put position. He didn’t close the distance so he could latch onto her wrist—or slip his arm around her waist and bury his face in her neck. He simply warned her she wasn’t to move. Then he shifted his attention. Vasily Tarasov stood beneath the street light, a low-key buzz of power emanating from him. His constant shadow, Dmitri Zolin, hovered a few feet away. “I will not allow her to get away from me again,” Alek said because it was as simple as that. He didn’t miss the quiet sound that came from Sacha. Caused by his vow or because the other part of the human barrier that had tried to prevent him from coming out here had just sauntered out of the shadows. Vasily came forward. “Sacha.” His greeting was warm. “How are you? I hope you can forgive our intrusion into your evening.” When he put his hand

out, she didn’t hesitate to take it. She went up on her toes and lit small fires of jealousy along Alek’s nerve endings when she kissed his uncle’s cheeks. The tattooed hand that rested briefly on her head was the same gentle touch Vasily used with his daughter. Eva and Sacha were around the same age. Sacha would be twenty-five next month. Alek had met her when she was a young, demure twenty-two. “It appears it was us who interrupted you,” she murmured. “We will get out of your way.” Awareness roved Alek’s spine at the sound of her voice. Her Russian accent was still pronounced and damned beautiful. He wanted everyone gone so he could concentrate on it, on her. “You’re not the one in the way here,” he said, holding the eyes of the man leisurely coming around from the driver’s side of the Mercedes. As he drew up next to Sacha, all those instincts that had appeared the moment Alek had met this woman roared to the surface again. The primitive urges were stronger than they’d ever been. That irrational, blinding jealousy invaded. Overwhelmed. He clenched his fists…and then felt his lip curve because he could have sworn he already felt the warmth of his new enemy’s blood dripping off his hands. The dead man wore an expensive coat similar to the one Alek had left behind in the restaurant. His hair was dark, he had a strong jaw, and his discerning stare was even with Alek’s, putting him around six-feet-two. “Alek Tarasov.” He sounded calm as he introduced himself. He wasn’t. This woman belonged to him, and this piece of shit was trespassing to a degree that could only result in death. This man’s hands had touched her only moments ago. He’d put his lips on her. There would be hell to pay for that. “No. That is not necessary. We should go…” Sacha had grasped her date’s arm in an effort to stop him from shaking Alek’s hand. The warning was politely ignored. “Justin Sheppard.”

Good to meet you, Justin Sheppard. Remember my face, because I’m coming for you. A quiet ticking started up, and Alek’s tension eased slightly because the sound meant Maks was on it. Sacha also heard the inputting of her date’s name into Maks’s phone and a small knot appeared in her jaw as if she was grinding her teeth. Could she remember the way of things? And if so, was she worried Maks would have the boyfriend’s story within moments? “If you and Sacha would like to return to the restaurant,” Vasily said. “Our party was just finishing up.” Sacha shook her head before Sheppard could respond. “Thank you, but we should be going.” “No.” Rather than drive his fist through another man’s sternum to rip out his still beating heart, Alek rudely gave everyone but Sacha his back. He placed his hands on the car’s roof, boxing her in. She pressed back, as though she didn’t want to come into contact with him. Understandable. The last time she’d seen him, he’d had his hands full of a woman that wasn’t her. He excluded Sheppard completely by reverting to Russian once more. “I would appreciate a few minutes of your time. We could talk in the car. Vasily’s car,” he specified with a dismissive look at the Mercedes. “Or, if you prefer something more public, we can go into the restaurant. But whichever you choose, it’s time to send him on his way. I’ll make sure you get home.” Preferably their home. A new tension began crackling in the time it took for her to raise her incredulous stare. The vulnerability surrounding her disappeared and she made a small sound of amusement that wasn’t reflected in her expression. “Just like that, Alekzander?” She spoke quietly enough so only he would hear. “Your arrogance is astounding if it allows you to believe there would be any point to us sitting down together, no matter the location.” Even exuding such disdain, he’d never seen a woman so fucking beautiful. “You’re probably right,” he admitted without paying attention to the

disappointment tinged with hurt that swiftly moved through him. “Though it doesn’t change the fact that I would like some time with you.” Apathy stared at him. Hmm. It appeared their time apart had changed more than him. A slight movement had his gaze falling, and he watched her throat work through a swallow. The urge to scrape his teeth over the silky skin came out of nowhere. “I don’t know how the hell you came to be here tonight, Sacha, but if you think I’m going to let this opportunity go without taking full advantage, then you’ve forgotten who I am.” “No. And there lies the problem; I have forgotten nothing.” Shut down. He dropped his arms and retreated. He remembered that tone and knew he wouldn’t get her cooperation this night. Not even if he told her how much he’d missed her. How much he’d missed her smile, the scent of her skin. I miss the feeling of home you instill so deep in my soul it’s as if I’ve lived with it forever when I know damn well I haven’t. No. Even then she wouldn’t hear him tonight. While he’d been begging the fates for this opportunity, it looked as if she’d been begging for the opposite. Again, he understood. And that meant he was going to have to demonstrate some patience after all by allowing her to leave him. Maks must have Sheppard’s info by now. If not, Alek would get the plates on the Benz and they’d hack OnStar. Bingo. He’d have Sacha’s addy and could work his ass off to be with his woman just like every other guy did. He hadn’t had to do that the first time around, and it would be no hardship for him to do so this time. Despite what he would consider minor roadblocks, a feeling he’d forgotten existed was settling in. Peace. He’d found her. She was safe. She was unharmed. And she was with him again. That was everything. He took another step back and even managed a small smile. “I understand,” he said, inclining his head as if in defeat. But before he could prove how gracious he planned on being about the whole thing by opening the car door

for her, she made a fatal error. Alek watched as if in slow motion Sacha move that stunning hourglass figure over and press what was his into Sheppard’s side. After the slightest hesitation, her date encircled his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. When Alek’s gaze clashed with gold, there was no denying the expression staring back at him. It was the clearest fuck-you he’d ever seen. Vasily and Maks came forward at the same time to wedge themselves between Alek and the blasphemous display they’d all just witnessed. Disappointed that she would do such a thing in front of his people, Alek tsked quietly. “Why would you provoke me in such a way, Sacha?” he murmured, holding her eyes as he brought that target back up when he’d mentally been lowering it because deep down he knew Sheppard didn’t deserve his malice. Or, he hadn’t. Now, Alek squared that bull’s eye on the guy’s chest, and almost as if she sensed where his mind was, his naughty angel paled and looked up at her date with a look of regret. Alek lost sight of her when Maks lowered his head and caught his eye. “Time to get this train backed up.” He forced Alek back by bumping their chests together. When they were out of earshot, he added, “He’s untouchable. We have to regroup and figure some shit out. Then we’ll take care of this in a more private location.” He bumped again. “Don’t worry, brother. I got you covered.” The storm tearing through him calmed at hearing that but the dark clouds of possession hovered, going nowhere. “Take my gun.” Maks’s hand immediately snaked inside Alek’s jacket and came out with his nine millimeter. It was gone from sight before anyone had a chance to lock eyes on it. At the same time, Vasily was sending Sheppard back around the car and opening the door to help Sacha into the passenger seat with a quiet farewell that Alek didn’t hear her return. “Justin Sheppard.” The guy paused with one foot in the car, appearing remarkably unfazed by the undercurrent surrounding them.

“Take care of her.” Alek’s voice was as even as he could make it. “She’s precious in a way you couldn’t possibly understand.” Finally, a reaction came when the muscle in Sheppard’s jaw jumped. “I easily understand that, Tarasov. She’ll be fine. Goodnight, gentlemen.” He disappeared into the car, and the tinted windows shut out prying eyes as they drove away. Alek let out a slow breath that burned. “This all could have been so civilized had she not done that. I could have pretended they were friends and we could have moved on from there.” He watched the car until it was no longer distinguishable from the others on the street. “Now, I want to see him hanging on your wall.” “Innocent men don’t belong on Maksim’s wall,” Vasily pointed out as they moved deeper into the shadows and away from a passing group of teenagers. Disregarding his uncle’s sane view on who belonged in the basement of Maks’s gentlemen’s club where the organization’s enemies sometimes ended up, Alek asked Maks, “What did you find?” “A lot of info. Right down to the parking space the guy frequently uses at the goddamn courthouse on Centre Street. He’s a criminal defense attorney.” Ah, fuck.

TWO I will not allow her to get away from me again. Oh, God. She was going to be sick. Why would you provoke me in such a way, Sacha? Bile filled her throat, but she swallowed it down. There was no time to panic. She had to calm down and remember her plan. A tap on her wrist made her jump. Her elbow hit the door, and her heart nearly burst when a cab laid on the horn as it drove past them going in the opposite direction. “Hey.” Justin’s voice was gentle with concern when he saw her reacting as if ghosts were surrounding her. “What’s going on? Come on, Sarah. Take a slow breath before you pass out on me.” He stopped at a red light a few blocks from the restaurant they should never have gone to. She tried but it the air got stuck in her throat as she pulled her phone out of her purse. “It helps if you distract yourself. Think about, I don’t know, Lekzi’s new fangs. That should help.” It didn’t. Thinking of the two little white teeth now protruding from her daughter’s gums made her want to cry. “They are not fangs,” she defended, just as she had when she’d proudly showed Justin Lekzi’s new smile. “I know. So, before I layer a thousand questions on you, why don’t you tell me what the hell that was about.” After trying twice to get her best friend and landlord’s number right, Sacha winced when the ringing pierced her ear as loud as a police siren. “Let me talk to Angela first then I will explain.” “Hello?” Angela sounded drowsy, as if she’d been dozing. She was

babysitting for Sacha tonight when it was normally the other way around since Angela’s son was one of Sacha’s charges in the small daycare she ran out of her apartment. “He is coming,” Sacha squeezed through her tight throat, never having believed she would utter those words. “Please, do as we discussed and take Lekzi upstairs. Do not come down until I come to your door. Hurry!” In her head, she was ticking off the items in the bag she kept in Angela’s apartment; passports, money belts, train schedule, clothes… Oh, God. How was she going to do this? She didn’t want to do this. “What the hell are you talking about?” Justin was looking at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Who’s coming?” “Oh, shit,” Angela breathed, not sounding so relaxed anymore. “Lekzi’s daddy? Are you freaking kidding me? How the hell? What happened, Sarah? Where are you? Where did you see him?” “At the restaurant. We walked in and he was there. He was…there. Oh, my God, Angela. Please, hurry.” “I’m already out the door. Baby girl fell asleep in her bassinet, so I just had to grab it and Tanner’s car seat.” Her voice shook to prove she was moving. “I can’t believe this. How’d he seem?” “Intense.” Infuriating. Disgusting. Beautiful. “He followed us out of the restaurant. He said he wanted to talk with me. Alone. He wanted to see me home.” Arrogant. Had she mentioned infuriating? “Alone. What, he wanted you to send Justin away? Shit, girl. But how will he find out where you live just by seeing you in a— Never mind. Stupid question, considering who he is. But it’ll take him a while, right?” Angela’s reaction was a comfort, proving she knew what a Russian Bratva was capable of just as she’d let on when Sacha had finally caved to the pressure and shared her story. Justin’s earlier mistake stole that comfort. “No. Justin gave Maksim his name.” Shocking herself with the violent move, she reached over and swatted her friend’s hard thigh. Fear squeezed her

lungs as she remembered that behemoth going to work the moment he had some information. “Why did you not listen to me, Justin?” Her daughter’s image shimmered before her eyes. “We would have had more time if all they had was the license plate of your car! Now he will come! He will learn she exists, and he will take her from me!” “Sasha!” Angela’s use of her real name shut her up. “I don’t understand what the hell you’re saying. You’re speaking Russian. And who the heck is Maksim?” “What the fuck is going on here?” Justin demanded as she covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. His image blurred before her eyes, and she didn’t protest when he took her phone. He knew Angela just as well as Sacha, if not better, since Angela was married to his best friend. That’s how Sacha and Justin had grown so close, by being thrown together all the time during park visits and potluck dinners. Sacha had vehemently protested the coupling at first until one evening Justin had revealed he wasn’t interested in her “in that way,” saying with a smile that she wasn’t his type. Or the right gender. She’d welcomed his easy companionship after that, and they’d soon started hanging out and making plans even when Angela and Steve were unavailable. Tonight’s dinner, for example. “Yeah, of course, I’ve heard of them but have never met any of them before,” he was saying to Angela. “My brother has gotten to know a few of them pretty well.” He put the phone between his ear and shoulder and reached over to turned the heat up. He must have noticed she was shivering—it wasn’t from the cold. “I read about the territorial one a couple of months ago. He and his partner landed that multi-residential deal everyone was bidding for on the Lower East Side. Word on the street was, rather than their lawyers, Alek Tarasov and Markus Fane kicked some serious ass during negotiations. Two high-profile families with questionable ties…” Sacha tuned him out as he and Angela speculated about something Sacha

knew for certain. The ties were not only questionable, they were unbreakable. Because they were family ties that bound those men together. The fact that most of them didn’t share the same blood made no difference. They were family. A brotherhood. Bratva. She couldn’t have said where the Tarasovs were more influential, in the U.S. or in Russia, where she’d heard talk of them all her life. Whether it was on the news or at her family’s dinner table—not that she’d paid much attention back then—their name had usually been but whispered with equal parts fear and respect. She remembered the knowing looks her parents exchanged when photos would surface of Alekzander’s grandfather with highly respected political leaders. They’re everywhere, her father would murmur under his breath. It wasn’t until she moved away from home after her parents’ death that Sacha had her first personal interaction with a real-life member. She’d come to New York because a family friend’s daughter had made the move the year before. She and Irena had been close growing up. Not to the same extent their mother’s were, but still, Sacha had always thought they’d had a connection. Irena, it turned out, wasn’t the sentimental type, because when Sacha showed up at the address she was given for a hair salon in Brighton Beach, her childhood “friend” had had no interest in renewing their acquaintance. Sacha hadn’t minded that so much after seeing the marked difference in the girl she used to know. The most obvious being the droopy eyes and purple bruises in her elbow creases. Without fretting over the change in plans, Sacha had moved on and settled into a minuscule apartment. She’d gravely insulted the three and a half years of university she had under her belt by taking a job at a small diner. But she never let herself dwell on the fact that she was completely alone in a strange city where her grasp of the language wasn’t the best. Those first months were actually a lonely, frightening existence that she, thankfully, hadn’t had to suffer through for very long. On a day just as stressful as any other—her boss had been an intolerant

jerk—she’d gone to one of her assigned tables to greet two men in smart suits. They’d looked up from their tattered menus, and despite Gabriel Moretti’s dark, handsome looks, she’d barely glanced at him. She hadn’t been able to tear her eyes from Alekzander Tarasov. Within minutes of meeting him, he’d turned her world upside down, and it had yet to right itself. “Okay.” Justin dropped her phone into her purse. “You can start by telling me who Sacha is. Or should I ask who Sarah Brighton is? I knew with an accent like yours that couldn’t be your real name. Had considered it might be your married name. Are the Tarasovs the reason you use it? Come on, Sar—uh, Sacha. Talk to me. The lack of information here is making my brain hurt.” She took a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose, trying to buy some time. How much should she say? Justin had given Alekzander his name, which meant they’d know in moments, if they didn’t already, who he was and where to find him. And that meant they would find her. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew Maksim Kirov would get the information he needed, and then that powerful group of men they’d just left would move in and do whatever they damn well pleased and no one would be able to stop them. She couldn’t leave without warning Justin about what might be coming for him. After all, she’d just given Alekzander the impression she and Justin were involved. She shouldn’t have been so immature. “What’s your full name?” Justin pressed, his tone encouraging rather than demanding, as Alekzander’s would have been. “Sacha Urusski.” She tapped on the dash when he got stuck behind a bus. “Can you pass him, please? You must get me home.” He passed and went through a yellow light. “Angela knows that?” “Yes.” He laughed under his breath. “Why Sarah Brighton? Why use an alias?” “You just met the reason. He…I…” She bit her lip, not about to tell him why she’d chosen Brighton as her last name. That was private. And what was it inside her that was trying to prevent her from speaking of that cheating

womanizer behind his back? “He and you, what? And, correct me if I’m wrong, but going by that caveman display I just witnessed, I’ll assume the ‘he’ you’re referring to is Alek Tarasov.” As her heart infuriatingly wrenched in her chest and the naïve girl buried somewhere inside her sighed with longing, Sacha twisted the two rings she wore on the middle finger of her right hand. “I do not want to involve you in this, Justin. There is no point since I will be leaving New York tonight. You and Angela have been wonderful friends, and I appreciate having had you in my life even if it was only for this short time. Please, be aware that Alekzander and his family might come to you and ask about me. I would be so grateful if you did not tell them anything you know.” “That’s a given, and you leaving isn’t on the table. At least not until you tell me why the hell you and your daughter are running from them. I’m forming a few ideas, but maybe you can pinpoint the correct one for me. Money, information, you know something they don’t want shared? I swear you can trust me with your story, Sar—Sacha. I’ll take it to the grave.” He made a face. “Unless you want me to take it to the authorities. Sorry. That killed my drama, but I am an attorney.” She blinked as that registered. An attorney could help her if Alekzander found out what she’d done. Family law wasn’t Justin’s specialty, but he must know someone who could give her some advice she’d never be able to pay for. The only problem was, Alekzander and his family would not go through legal channels to get what they wanted. Unless she forced them to. She placed a hand on her roiling stomach. If enough people knew her situation, the Tarasovs couldn’t steamroll their way in and… She wilted in her seat. Yes, they could. She’d soon come to learn what her father had said was true; the Tarasov Bratva had a long, invasive reach. She’d seen evidence of it with her own two eyes. Contrary to what many thought, a

family like Alekzander’s wasn’t made up of thugs wielding machine guns and smoking cigars. They were businessmen. Granted they weren’t afraid to use distasteful methods to get their way, but they didn’t go around randomly murdering and pillaging to earn their riches. She’d seen Vasily Tarasov in meetings with men Alekzander would later say were congressmen or the chairman of a bank known around the world. She remembered one such gathering hosted in their luxurious house in Old Westbury. She’d been cornered by two men, an arrogant Arab and a distinguished Frenchman. One had been in oil, the other in the insurance industry. Both had held private meetings with Vasily that evening, and all had appeared extremely happy afterward. She also recalled both of those men being slightly aggressive. Disconcerted by that, Sacha had caught Alekzander’s eye. He’d left his group mid-sentence. With impeccable manners, but with frost crackling in his icy stare, he’d slipped his arm around her waist, letting his hand rest with blatant intimacy on her hip. After some casual conversation, he’d called over two women he’d assured would happily entertain the men then excused himself and Sacha. He hadn’t left her alone again the rest of the evening. “Alekzander and I were once together,” she said. Because he wasn’t a chatty woman, she and Justin had never sat and shared their pasts over tea and pastries the way Sacha and Angela had done. But now that he’d been with her when her present and past had collided, she figured she should give him something. “We lived together. I left him when he cheated on me.” Justin made a quiet sound of disgust, but she didn’t look up from where she was once again spinning her parents’ wedding bands. “I will not bore you with the details, but in the end, I left without telling him I was pregnant.” No satisfaction came from her habit of slipping the common expression into her speech as it usually did. She tried extra hard to learn as much American slang as possible because it was always so embarrassing when she took things literally. The car lurched forward when Justin hit the brakes too hard. “Wait a

minute. Alek Tarasov is Lekzi’s father? And he doesn’t know?” The quiet disbelief in his voice caused her head to pound, but rather than defend herself, she just nodded. “No wonder she popped into my head the second I saw his eyes. Holy fuck. This isn’t good.” No. It was not good. She sat very still and prayed she wouldn’t vomit all over the expensive interior of the car as images flashed like snapshots through her mind. Alekzander looking up at her amid random chatter and sounds of forks hitting plates. Alekzander smiling as he shrugged out of the leather holster he wore across his tattooed chest, his mouth finding hers as he whispered how much he loved her. Alekzander behind his desk, he and that woman looking over as Sacha interrupted the sex they were having; proof he’d viciously lied about their love. Sacha then saw herself stealing away in the middle of the night from the hotel room she’d landed in after her world had imploded, and seven and a half months later, standing before the mirror in the tiny bathroom of her new apartment, her belly round, her face wet with tears because she’d been suffering over the decision she’d made. The kindness she’d received from the doctors who delivered her beautiful baby girl a week later sifted through her memory. As did the judgemental clerk’s knowing look when Sacha had requested the space listing her daughter’s father be left blank. Have a nice day, whore, the woman might as well have said as Sacha left the office clutching her beautiful treasure, her head bowed with a shame countless women before her had worn. Humiliation stomped on the ruins that had once been her pride. “I must leave so that he cannot find me and take my daughter. He will come. I know he will. Did you hear what he said to his uncle? He will not let me get away again. Why would he say such a thing when it was him who drew away from us by choosing to be with someone else?” Tears singed the back of her eyelids at the size of his ego. She’d once thought it was confidence, and it had been so attractive to her because that was something she’d always lacked.

Her throat ached with the need to cry but she didn’t allow it. Alekzander didn’t deserve these feelings; the overpowering anger, the staggering sense of loss, the pain. The love. God, she loved him. He may have destroyed her with his infidelity, but he hadn’t destroyed the love she’d told him would be his forever. Only, now, that soft, fragile feeling was twisted and broken. Warped beyond all recognition. But still it lived. As did it’s opposite. “I hate him.” Her voice was quiet but adamant. “And I will not allow him to ruin my life again by taking the only thing that brings me happiness. She is mine, and he cannot have her. Not any part of her.” “Sacha. Cheating isn’t grounds for keeping a parent from their child.” The guilt she’d been suffering from the moment she’d felt Lekzi kick proved she already knew that. “I do not care. Morally, it should be.” It didn’t bother her in the least that she sounded as if she were a sulky child because she knew she ceased being one the moment she walked out of the TarMor building that night. By keeping her daughter a secret, she’d started a dangerous adult game with a man one should know better than to play with. But Sacha would play. And she would win. Because the alternative wasn’t something she could live with. If she was left to live at all.

THREE A fucking attorney, Alek thought, swallowing a groan as he kicked a skiff of snow off the toe of his Ferragamo and followed his uncle to a bare patch of sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Sacha, Sacha. Who have you brought into our lives, angel? God, it felt good to think her name. He’d blocked it for so long because of the pain it brought with it. “Maks. Come on. Anything?” he asked impatiently. “I’m working from a goddamn toy here, my brother.” The tapping on the small screen went on without pause when another of theirs ghosted by Dmitri to enter the group. Micha Zaretsky, Maks’s right hand spoke to him in a low voice but didn’t try to hide what he was saying. “The kid wants to know if you’re okay. He’s starting to sweat.” Maks raised his head and blinked away a who-me? before a slow grin stretched across his face. He was touched by the concern coming from his fiancé’s twelve-year-old son who he’d recently saved from what could have been a tragic situation involving the brother of a Mexican drug lord. Thankfully, Eberto Morales hadn’t had the opportunity to do much physical damage to Andrew, but mentally, the kid was shaken up. It was too bad Eleanor, the other twelve-year-old who had been in Morales’s care, hadn’t fared so well. From what they were learning, the bastard hadn’t held back when he’d slapped his daughter around. The cowed little thing was now safe and secure in the new unit that was Maksim’s family, but, again, mental scars were evident. Probably why they all blended so well, Alek thought. Because Maks, who was now putting a call through, presumably to Andrew’s cell phone, had enough trauma in his past to permanently damage ten men.

“Russia?” The inquiry came through the speaker on Maks’s phone because he was once again scrolling through information on the small screen. Andrew’s voice was at that in-between stage; now low, yet not childishly high anymore. “Hey, kid.” “You okay? Uh, mom was wondering.” Maks stopped scrolling and exchanged an amused look with Vasily. “Yeah, we’re all good. You finished dessert?’ “What dessert?” Maks’s face fell. “Shit.” He glared at Micha. “The fucking cake I forgot in the fridge at home. We’ll destroy it when we get there. What’s your mother doing?” “Talking with Elli about a boy,” Andrew whispered. Alek could have sworn Maks paled. “You fucking with me, kid?” “Yeah.” Andrew laughed. “They’re talking to Eva about names for the baby.” Maks rolled his eyes. “Lucky you’re not in front of me. I’d kick your ass. Tell them to pack up. You okay keeping an eye on them?” “Sure. Uh, sorry if I bothered you, Russia. I just…you know, wanted to make sure you were okay.” “No worries, kid. You bother me whenever the fuck you want. We’re cool.” “Sweet. Are you close?” “Right outside the door. Just me and the boys.” “Okay. Later.” As he hung up, there was a tenderness in his expression that one didn’t often see. Alek could only speak for himself when he said the role of family man wasn’t one he’d ever expected Maks to play. And play so well. Going by the satisfied glint in Vasily’s eye, he, too, liked the new development. And rightly so since he was the one who’d found Maks in an underground prison of sorts and

brought him back to the States when the irreverent giant was nothing but a big, menacing teenager. “Fuckin’ kid gets me every time,” Maks murmured as his finger began swiping. He pulled the info back down once he reached the bottom. “Okay. I’ll give you the basics now, and a shit ton of details once I get home and on my invasive little beauty.” An affection way of describing what Alek and the boys had coined Computer Central. “Justin Benjamin Sheppard; age thirty-four. History of private schools, graduated magna cum laude from Harvard Law. Currently a high-profile defense attorney working out of a mega-firm in Manhattan that his grandfather started in the seventies. Justin is now one of the Sheppards on the door. Was offered and turned down a position to serve as Special Counsel to the United States Secretary of Housing and Urban Development—who just so happens to be his fucking godfather.” He gave Alek a sidelong look and an irritating wink. “You into appreciating some irony right now?” He blinked innocently when he got a glare. “Too soon?” “All you need to focus on is that he’s considered high-profile.” Vasily paid no attention to Maks’s bullshit. “No one touches the attorney.” “Anything on Sacha?” If Maks said an engagement had been announced, Alek would have no choice but to go against his uncle’s decree and do more than touch the attorney. “Not yet. I’ll have her address when I get a report from OnStar detailing anywhere Sheppard’s Roadster has been—good taste in more than just women.” That earned the moron a glare from both Alek and Vasily. Micha was chuckling as he melted away. Dmitri didn’t appear to be listening to them. Vasily did up his coat and glanced at his phone when it started ringing. He silenced the call to give Alek his full attention in that way he’d done since Alek was a boy. “Tell me how you see this playing out.” “Really, you don’t want to know.”

“Humor me.” He was tempted to lie. Because if Vasily didn’t know what Alek had planned, he couldn’t prevent it from happening. “I’ll knock on her door tomorrow morning—” He looked at Maks. “Tell me you’ll have her location by then.” “I’ll have her location by then.” He nodded. “She’ll open for me; I’ll wreck Sheppard if he’s there, and take her. I’ll lock her up at your house in Old Westbury—because Eva and the girls would ruin everything if I did so at ours. I’ll make her regret allowing another man anywhere near her, then keep her all to myself for the rest of our lives. At some point, I’ll come up for air, and when I do, I’ll finish it by crushing Sheppard’s career and tearing down his old man’s firm.” “Word.” Like two juveniles, he and Maks both put out their fists at the same time and knocked them together. Vasily watched with a bemused look on his face before turning to Dmitri. “Was I ever like this?” “Not even when you were twenty,” came the dry response that evidenced how many years he’d been at the Pakhan’s back. “Did any of that sound reasonable in your head before you voiced it?” his uncle asked him. “Right now,” Alek stipulated, “absolutely. Is it? Of course not.” Vasily checked and silenced his phone again. He sighed and looked at the restaurant where Gabriel and Vincente were holding things down but must be getting antsy. “You’re not going to want to hear what I’m about to say, but I feel I have to say it anyway.” Alek nodded and listened to what he hoped wouldn’t be reason. “You said you’d like Sacha to regret becoming involved with another man. She shouldn’t. You ended your relationship with her, and that’s on you. If she chose to move on, that’s something you’re going to have to accept. She and

Justin Sheppard are two single people dating, and that has nothing to do with you. If you want to try to win her back, I’m behind you, but you will not punish her for living the life you left her to live.” Reason it was. “So basically,’ Maks said as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “You’re telling him he can show up in the morning and wave at her through the fucking window.” He came in closer and gave Vasily a questioning look. “Do you have any idea how he must be feel—? Hang on a second.” He straightened and looked at Alek. “How the fuck are you so calm right now?” Alek rattled the change in his pockets and shrugged. He kept his shoulders up as the chill of the night began to register. How could he explain that the urgency had left him? The panic he’d been living with for over a year had fled the moment he’d looked into Sacha’s eyes. He’d been afraid he was going to have to live without her. That fear was gone. The only thing giving him trouble now was Sheppard and the revulsion Alek had seen in Sacha’s eyes when she’d looked at him. “I’m going to see her tomorrow.” His lip pulled up at the corner, and he shrugged again, feeling a high that had nothing to do with the brandy he’d imbibed earlier. “If I learn she and Sheppard aren’t buddies, I’ll rage.” He brought a hand up when his uncle opened his mouth. “But I’ll try not to fight for her by killing the guy. Rather, I’ll fight for her by engaging in the dirtiest fucking battle any of you has ever seen. A legit battle. In the end, satisfaction will come when the attorney is forced to stand there and watch Sacha wrap that curvy body around me because I’ve proven she’s mine.” He slapped his hands on his uncle’s shoulders and felt optimism for the first time since learning his cousin’s family had been taken by the Baikovs, which was the moment Alek’s downslide had begun. “But with any luck, things will go my way and it won’t come to that.” He enjoyed Vasily’s amusement for a moment before the buzz of his phone interrupted. His uncle took his out at the same time and they both frowned after reading the text.

“Fire?” they said at the same time, both nodding. “Where?” Maks asked. “The dumpster behind the dealership in Garden City.” Alek and his uncle had bought the Mercedes dealership a couple of years ago. “Serious?” “No. Probably some kids fucking around.” Maks’s phone chimed while Alek was talking. “Or it could be that goddamn fucker yanking our chains because he’s a gutless prick who’s too afraid to stand before us and deal with his problems like a man.” Without needing to be told, they got that Maks’s eloquent reference was to the mole in the Tarasov Bratva. They’d recently learned the disease among them had been stirring shit much longer than they’d initially thought. An NYPD contact of Vincente’s had found out calls about their business dealings had started almost two years ago. The result? Attention. A few minor arms deals were busted. A drive-by was labeled a Tarasov job. An extortion case that failed to gain its legs was also pigeon-holed as theirs. The mole was also attacking on a personal level. Rivals and new-found enemies had recently become privy to information that couldn’t have come from anyone who didn’t personally know Alek and those closest to him. Vasily’s sigh spoke volumes. “What is it?” he questioned Maks. “Coincidentally, my guys just put out a fire in the dumpster behind the shooting range.” Maks and Micha had bought the range a while back, and all the boys enjoyed visiting the tightly run ship. Maks’s fiancé and the other women of their household had also taken a liking to the place. “Could be a fluke,” Dmitri suggested. “Could be.” Vasily sounded thoughtful. “If not, this would confirm our suspicions about there being more than one thorn in our side. Because the range and dealership aren’t close enough for one man to be able to start two fires simultaneously.”

“They find something in yours?” Maks asked, reading a follow-up text. “There was an animal in ours. The boys said it smells like BBQ with hair.” His lip curled. Alek texted one of the security guards who’d been doing a check inside the building just before the fire was discovered. He received a message from the same guard at the same time. “Tom says now that they can get close, they’ve found remains. The four legs sticking out prove they’re not human.” “Tell them to follow protocol,” Vasily said, rhyming off the basics. “Contact their avtorityet, no authorities, get a team in to identify what materials were used and, in these cases, what was cooked.” Alek and Maks sent off instructions even though their people knew the drill by now. One always called the captain in charge, and one never involved the authorities. Since the organization had forensic people on their payroll—two of which currently worked for the NYPD—when questions came up, they were usually the ones getting that late night phone call. A shadow fell across them, and Alek felt his coat settle on his shoulders. Vincente Romani, aka the Reaper, waited until Alek slipped his arms into the sleeves before handing over a pair of leather gloves. V’s dark eyes were narrowed, his long black hair hanging past his shoulders. “We gotta bounce. Got a call about a dumpster fire at a project in Cambria Heights. Fuckin’ kids need to find better ways to spend their time.” Vincente owned a small construction company that his girlfriend, Nika, was slowly taking over and doing a damn fine job of running alongside V’s cousin, Mario. “It was him,” Maks muttered, Vincente’s revelation confirming it. Three fires couldn’t be a fluke. “Don’t blame bored kids,” Vasily said to V, his tone a combination of apology and anger. “It’s our issue. He, or rather, they, also hit two locations of ours.”

“And, apparently, our salvage yard in St. Albans,” Gabriel added, coming up on the group. Vasily looked away, his jaw rolling. “I don’t want any of you going to the sites personally. Our people will take care of it. Now move on, I won’t give air time to this bastard.” Vincente must have agreed because he immediately asked Alek, “Where is she?” “Our friend is generously giving his princessa some time to wrap her head around the fact that he’s back in her life.” Maks’s answer came with an arrogance Alek didn’t think he’d have been able to pull off. Vincente threw a fortune cookie at him and said to Alek, “You need us, call. The two of them could be completely innocent,” he tacked on, proving he understood the dark suspicions lurking in the back of Alek’s mind. “Don’t let your imagination fuck you too hard. Get the facts first.” He thumped Alek on the shoulder and stepped aside to make way for the boss of the Moretti family. Gabriel, like Vincente, was a solid six-five and, despite a beautifully tailored suit and cashmere overcoat, looked more like an NFL linebacker than an organized crime boss. But the new shadows swirling in his eyes gave his position of power away. Alek saw the same murky veil whenever he met his uncle’s stare. “Too bad there were so many witnesses—not that you’d have pulled the trigger—but you could have at least scared the competition. Maybe even enough into beating feet without her.” Gabriel’s voice was hushed, but Vasily still heard. “Don’t encourage him, son,” came the expected irritated mutter. G smirked and seconded Vincente’s offer. “Whatever you need, we’re good for it.” He looked Alek up and down. “Hang on to this positive shit you’re rocking. It’s a good look.” “Any of your fires come with a meal?” Vincente asked as he pocketed his phone. “My boys pulled out a half-cooked sheep doused with an accelerant.” “There were animals in ours, too. Why sheep?” Alek asked. “A reference

to following the herd?” “We’ll discuss it later.” Vasily pointed at Gabriel. “Get my daughter in the car and out of the open.” G was already moving. “Yes, Dad,” he drawled over his shoulder. Vasily motioned for Dmitri to go with the boys as they headed over to join the muscle already surrounding the girls and kids as they filed out of the restaurant. “I’ll let you know when I’m online,” Maks said as he, too, left when Sydney, Andrew, and Elli appeared. Maks and Vasily exchanged a look before Maks followed his family into the Hummer. Vasily was talking before Alek could question it. “Getting back to your issue; because of the cruel way you chose to end your relationship with Sacha, you’re going to go about this as gently as you can. When you see her, you will treat her with more respect than you do me. You will allow her to dictate every aspect of your first private interaction and those after that. If she is frightened—” he put up a hand for Eva to wait where she was when she would have come over, “—you will back the fuck off. If she is angry, you will bow your goddamn head and accept every heated word she delivers. If she is upset, which is what I’d place my money on because she is Sacha, you will mollify her as best you can without pressure of any kind. Do you hear me, son?” Yes. Alek heard loud and clear that his uncle still cared a great deal for the girl who’d captured their hearts the moment she’d entered their lives. Even though it hadn’t been voiced at the time, Alek knew his uncle’s disapproval over what he’d done to Sacha had been fierce. “Loud and clear,” he assured. “Good. Now, since you’ll be sitting on your hands for the next couple of hours, you can spend them with me. While I say goodnight to my daughter, spend a few minutes thanking the powers that be for this second chance.” He started toward Eva, who was waiting patiently with a not so patient Gabriel at

her back. “You have no idea how goddamn lucky you are to have it.”

♦ ♦ ♦ As Justin used the E-ZPass lane to enter the Midtown Tunnel, Sacha was relieved to see only a few cars in front of them under the orange glow that made her squint. “Let me know if I’m overstepping here,” Justin said, his next words confirming he was in lawyer mode. “But, if you were to swap the reason you don’t want an infant in Tarasov’s care from him being a cheater to him being an organized crime figure, we’d have a case, and he’d most likely lose any bid for custody.” The very thought of publically outing Alekzander in such a way sent the hair on her body into the air. And, again, that something deep inside her rejected the idea. Had she been treated badly during her time with Alekzander and his family, maybe it would have been easier to throw him under the bus. But that hadn’t been the case. She’d been welcomed from day one, made to feel at home. She was sure where she came from had something to do with that. There had been many evenings she’d sat with Vasily and chatted about what was happening in their home country—that was after she’d gotten over her deep-rooted fear of the powerful man. No. She couldn’t get Alekzander into trouble with the law simply because he’d stopped loving her and had chosen to move on without telling her first. She should. She should spill every little secret she had, not that there were many. But she never would. Despite everything, he was her daughter’s father. Then again, she thought, feeling ill, if it came down to it and she had to choose between keeping Lekzi in her life and Alekzander’s freedom, well, there was no choice. But until then… “That would not work because I was never personally aware of anything

he or his family did that might have been illegal. For all I know, their intimidating reputation could have been created simply to make themselves feel special.” She saw Justin’s head turn her way but didn’t meet the look because then he’d see she was lying through her teeth. He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. “This may sound insensitive, but why didn’t you go back home to your family when things fell apart here?” Wishing he could drive faster, she answered honestly. “I am an only child, and, as you know, my parents are gone. But even if I had someone there, at that time, I could not afford to go home.” He frowned in confusion, so she went on, her cheeks heating. “While I was with Alekzander, I did not work, or go back to school as I had planned. When I left Russia, I dropped out of my fourth year of university,” she explained. “But I had every intention of applying to colleges here so I could finish my liberal arts degree. I had planned to go into the field of Human Resources, but, as I said, I did not.” She moved on because she could hear how defensive she was beginning to sound. “Alekzander enjoyed having me at home, and I enjoyed being there for him.” Shame coated that last bit, revealing how little she thought of the decision she’d made back then. She should never have given up her independence. She suspected that had much to do with what had happened. “So he kept you broke and dependent on him?” Justin questioned as they came out of the tunnel and traveled the relatively empty streets of Queens heading for Sunnyside. “No, of course not. He was very generous. I had credit cards and a bank account that I could use freely.” Feeling small, she wanted to add that she wasn’t a parasite, but hearing herself, she found she couldn’t. Her and Alekzander’s first real fight had been about her working to save the money she would need to return to school. He’d convinced her it wasn’t something that had to be decided right then and had

quieted her protests by saying they’d discuss her education later. It had always been later. And she’d let him get away with discounting her future. Had she not been such a pushover, so eager to please him, would things have been different? “I did not use his money after things ended,” she murmured. “Why? Any other woman, especially a pregnant one, would have withdrawn a large chunk of cash—especially because as a Tarasov he could certainly afford it—and lived off it until she was back on her feet. Why didn’t you?” “Because I did not want his money. I did not want anything from him.” She shifted, grinding her teeth at the warble in her voice. It signified weakness, and that embarrassed her. “Anyway,” she said, sneaking in another common word Americans used regularly. “How could I go home when I did not have enough money to buy an airline ticket, to rent an apartment once I got there, and to live until I found a job? I could not. So I stayed here where it had already become familiar. And Lekzi and I have done fine without him. Our life is simple, but that is all we need.” She might not have two homes and a private jet, but despite having to save most of her earnings, she was providing for her daughter, and she was proud of that. When they eventually turned onto her street, she tried not to think about what it would cost her, financially and emotionally, to start over again. Another new city, no friends, no job, no place to live. And it would be so much worse this time because she was dragging her innocent daughter along, making her baby suffer for the sins of her parents… The world stilled for a split second before Sacha felt the impact of her reality hit with the force of a punch. A group of well-dressed men milled about in front of her apartment building. Two were on the sidewalk speaking with a uniformed NYPD officer while another two stood in front of the main entrance of the three-story walk-up. Oh, God. “I told you.” Her whisper was eerily accepting. “He has come for me.”



FOUR Justin reached across the console and clasped her hand as he pulled in behind a Smart car. “Don’t even go there. He couldn’t possibly have learned where you live yet. No one works that fast.” They do. “This is nothing. Probably some city inspectors cracking down on infractions. Look at the cop. He wouldn’t be standing there shooting the breeze with members of an organized crime family, would he?” Yes, he would. If he is one of theirs. Adrenaline pounded through her veins. Justin had to know a family as powerful as Alekzander’s would have allies in all the right places. “You should go home,” she murmured, swiftly reorganizing her thoughts as he snorted. There would be no leaving tonight; that much was clear. So, too, was the fact that she was going to have to suffer through one more interaction with Alekzander. Fine. He would show up, see that her apartment reflected the small daycare she ran, and she would let him believe Lekzi was one of her charges. After Sacha told him off and sent him on his way, she would take the baby and run. Simple. One more meeting with him. She could get through that. Resigned, she reached for the door handle. “Go. I will call you tomorrow.” Justin grabbed her arm. “Get your head on straight, Ms. Urusski. Your attorney has no intention of leaving you here to deal with this on your own.” Her heart softened. What Justin didn’t realize was that she was on her own. Seeing these men—who she was convinced were Tarasov associates—with the police officer was proof. No one could help her. She gave his hand a squeeze. “It is okay. He will not harm me. I will be all right.” “I know you will be because I’ll be standing next to you.”

She looked at the men and then back at Justin, wanting to strangle him and hug him at the same time. “Listen, I will not have you in my apartment when he arrives. Why would I do that to you? It would cause much more trouble than it is worth. For both of us. He is…possessive of what he considers his.” God, how she remembered that. And if she hadn’t, the aggression that had all but choked her in front of the restaurant had been all the refresher she’d needed. That confused her. I don’t know how the hell you came to be here tonight, Sacha, but if you think I’m going to let this opportunity go without taking full advantage, then you’ve forgotten who I am. He’d made it sound as if running into her had been something special. “It seems Alekzander still thinks of me as one of his toys.” Arrogant, spoiled brat. “I will correct that misconception when he comes, and then this will be over. I do not need or want an audience for that.” “Fine,” Justin muttered after glowering at her for an extended minute. “At least let me come up with you to Steve and Angela’s to get Lekzi. I’ll bring you back down to your place and leave. I swear. But, and this is a go whether you want it or not, I’m calling one of our family lawyers and finding out what your options are.” He pointed at the men. “If this display is your Russian throwing his weight around, you’re going to need that information.” “Okay.” She agreed more so he would drop it than for any other reason. They got out of the car and approached the four men standing at the end of the walk they needed to travel to get to her front door. “Evening,” Justin greeted as they went to pass. All she could see were their shoes because she kept her head down. Her vision quivered when an expensive black leather pair stepped into her path. She looked up at a tall man with light eyes and a long, clean-shaven face. Under the bright streetlight, she could see a portion of his left earlobe was missing but long since healed. “Excuse me, Ms. Urusski?”

“Da?” She automatically reverted to Russian when she heard his accent was as thick as hers. That warmed his expression slightly, and he did the same. “I am Anton. Mr. Tarasov has asked that you allow us to remain on the perimeter of your home until his nephew has had an opportunity to meet with you.” Goosebumps flashed across her clammy skin. As she’d feared. Only it wasn’t Alekzander who’d sent them; it was Vasily. Worse. So much worse. Yes, she and the Pakhan had shared an amiable rapport when she’d dated his nephew, but he was still who he was. Her eyes darted to the two windows at street level to the left of the entrance. Her apartment. Blood roared in her ears. Had these men already been here when Angela had taken Lekzi upstairs? All moisture dried in her mouth and she had to swallow a few times before she could speak. Having a witness would be wise, she reminded herself. “I am sorry.” She switched to English and dug her fingers into Justin’s arm where she was holding him. “Could you repeat that? In English, please.” As Alekzander had in front of the restaurant, Justin put his hand out and introduced himself. Anton politely shook and did the same, giving only his first name again. “Crisp evening,” he commented casually. “Though I hear the temperature is about to drop to uncomfortable levels.” Returning to Sacha with a knowing smile curving his mouth, he went back to their language, rudely excluding Justin. “There is no need to involve outsiders here. We have been instructed to allow you to carry on with your routine as you normally would. Maksim assumed there would be little disruption since you do not work outside the home. Though you may not appreciate it,” he finished, “we are to accompany you if you take the children off the premises.” “Sacha?” Justin patted her back where his hand rested. Torn between wanting his aid and not wanting to reveal she’d spoken about the organization to “an outsider”, especially because she knew Anton

would be reporting this interaction to his superiors in the next few minutes, Sacha erred on the side of caution and protected her friend rather than lean on him. “Anton was saying the weather back home has been similar but with more snow.” She looked away from the goon’s approval to see the police officer was watching their exchange. He came forward. But rather than ask her if everything was okay, he put his hand out to Anton, who shook it and offered him a thank you in English. Any badge number she might have taken note of was hidden under his coat. “No worries, man,” the officer said. “I’ll let the other boys know about the security detail. We’re good here. ’Night.” He nodded at Sacha and Justin before walking away. Instinctively, she went to raise her hand, but Anton clicked his tongue to get her attention. “As I said, outsiders are not welcome in our business. There is no need to cause a scene that will end in disappointment for you. You must know he is ours. As are many others.” He didn’t speak in a threatening tone, just matter-of-factly enough to have her stop Justin when he went to follow after the officer. “We are good, Justin,” she said, forcing a smile. “Say goodbye to your friend now and go inside,” Anton continued. “From what I gathered, Alek should be along in the morning.” A combination of affront and fear roared through her, making her stomach twist into painful knots. Who was this minion to tell her what to do? And what did she do? Nothing. She stood on the sidewalk outside her home and experienced helplessness in its most basic form. Her beautiful secret was still only hers, but the rest of her life was already an open book. How long before that changed? Twelve measly hours? Twelve imprisoned hours? As she flashed a shaky smile at Justin and pulled him along toward the front door, she couldn’t help but think if she’d needed a blatant and timely reminder of who she was dealing with, she’d just gotten one.



♦ ♦ ♦ As Dmitri pulled the Maybach to the curb in front of a small tavern in the Flatiron District, Vasily Tarasov looked out at the damp sidewalk covered in dirty snow and slush. New York was so messy in the winter. Back home, winter was white. Here it was wet. “Since we’re only a few blocks away, I’m going to stay at the apartment tonight,” Alek said as they got out, referring to the place he and Sacha had shared. As cold air flew up Vasily’s pants legs, he nodded. “I had a feeling you might say that.” Which was why the unit that had been sitting empty for over a year was currently crawling with sweepers. The men would check for planted explosives or anything that could cause injury or death. It was second nature to regularly go through the routine with their cars, homes, and businesses. Around the clock, the sweepers’ only job was to search and deem safe. Vasily hoped their clean track record would remain, but wasn’t optimistic. Especially now. They went through the door of the pub that Dmitri held open, and in the next few minutes, were sitting with a young Russian couple. It didn’t take long for Vasily to relax and lose himself in one of the perks this life offered, one he truly enjoyed; helping those not able to help themselves. He would never consider himself a do-gooder, not in any form. These cases were more about him and his connections bypassing a broken system. Sure, it was illegal. Funnily enough that didn’t bother him. After a few minutes speaking with the young man, who was in his early thirties, about how he and his wife were settling in after the big move from Yekaterinburg, Vasily turned to the woman. She was younger, probably Eva’s age, and appeared shit-scared.

“Would you rather we spoke Russian?” he asked. Her eyes darted around the group before she answered in Russian, which gave him a big clue. “Whatever you are most comfortable doing.” He smiled in appreciation for the show of respect. “Since we are discussing yours and your husband’s new life, I would say you should be involved. That would make the choice yours. If you are as comfortable and fluent in English as your husband, we’ll continue. If you are not, you should admit that, and we will accommodate you.” Her face went red. “My English is not as good as my husband’s.” The confession obviously embarrassed her. That reminded him of Sacha’s neverending resolve to get the difficult language right. “My woman was in your shoes not long ago,” Alek cut in, his tone kind. “She’s come a long way. It will be easier for you now that you’re submerged in it. Sacha used to watch cartoons.” “I have heard this is a good way to gain the basics.” “Then you’re halfway there.” As pride sparked in Vasily’s chest at the man his nephew had become, they sat back so a waitress could deliver their drinks. “Can I get you anything else?” “We’re good, thanks.” Dmitri nodded at the pretty girl with inked arms holding the now-empty tray. “Just wave if you change your mind. I’ll be close by.” She waited until he looked up before smiling, causing the piercing in her dimple to wink. Dmitri watched her ass go as she walked off but otherwise showed no sign of interest. She wasn’t intimidated by the harsh gray stare and ink climbing his thick neck to disappear into his dark cropped hair. Proof: When Dmitri lifted his glass, a piece of paper with a name and phone number scrawled on it fell into his lap. Vasily was never sure how to view women like that. Good for them for taking charge and going after what they wanted? Or condemn them for not being the soft, feminine, you-do-the-chasing-because-you’re-the-man type he’d fallen

so hard for all those years ago? As they got down to business and the couple at the table was replaced by a new one four times over, the small place filled up. Which was good. It made the exchange of envelopes disappear in the hum and jostle of the crowd. Dmitri accepted a final payment from each of the men while Vasily and Alek insisted the young doctors go through their newly printed degrees and transcripts of records from a respected Ivy League college. It was equivalent to the same degrees they’d received from MSU—Moscow University—that weren’t recognized by a U. S. credential evaluation service. After going through each of the medical researchers’ employment histories and experience, and their impressive academic accomplishments, the Tarasov’s private MD, Yuri Davidenko, had come to Vasily raging at the injustice of it. Vasily had put Maks and Alek on it. Now four gifted researchers were able to do the same work here as they’d been doing back home. Who knew, one of them might just be the man to rid the world of cancer or diabetes or muscular dystrophy. Wouldn’t it be a shame for them not to have the opportunity to try because of where they’d received their education? By the time the fourth couple had offered their thanks for the fifth time, the muscles in Vasily’s neck had begun to tighten, and he and the boys said their goodbyes. It wasn’t a surprise to see the pretty waitress’s number left behind under an empty glass as they headed for the exit. As they got in the car and aimed for Alek’s apartment, Vasily’s phone rang over the Bluetooth. Seeing Yuri’s number, he nodded for Dmitri to connect the call by pressing a button on the dash. “Yuri.” “I just saw the MD,” the gifted surgeon and Vasily’s long-time friend said in place of a greeting. The “MD” would be Dr. Tegan Mancuso. A bright and bubbly girl who’d been a permanent fixture in Alek and his friends’ lives since their school days. Tegan had recently been drawn into their world and used to send a message to

Maksim. She’d been assaulted, to an extent they still didn’t know and had refused to see anyone since. Vasily knew her loss was deeply felt. Maksim— who’d had the pleasure of taking out the degenerate who’d gone after her—was having a hell of a time with it. He would crack soon and go to her, Vasily knew. He just hoped the hothead didn’t push too hard too soon and drive the girl away for good. “Do you mean Tegan?” Alek asked. “Yes,” Yuri confirmed. “Where did you see her? At the hospital?” Vasily guessed since Yuri had surgical privileges at Coney Island where Tegan worked in the Emergency Department. “Yes. I came out of the operating room and went to the closest lounge. She was just leaving. I thought I would feel her out by making it so she could not ignore me. I stepped in front of her and asked for a moment.” Vasily winced. “Really, Yuri? I’m sure that went over well.” He chuckled. “After she leaped away to avoid touching me, she threatened my reproductive organs and ordered me to join my brethren around a brimstone hearth.” They all found some humor in that, knowing Yuri had rephrased, but it didn’t last. “Shit. That sounds so like her,” Alek murmured. “How is she?” Yuri paused, and when he spoke, his voice was subdued. “I cannot say for sure, of course, but if you are asking for my professional opinion, I would say the girl was sexually assaulted. Her signals were not the same ones you see when dealing with Vincente’s woman. Tegan kept five feet between us, was hidden beneath a god awful disaster of a sweater, wore no makeup, had that beautiful hair of hers concealed beneath a wool hat that was much too warm to be wearing indoors. Her eyes were overly-watchful, she was jumpy, curled in around herself as though trying to hide her body. If she could have stripped herself of her gender, I am sure she would have. She simply did not want to be seen.”

Curses blended as they all reacted to that. “Of all men to dispose of so quickly,” Alek growled. “There would have been a long line for that piece of shit had he ended up on Maks’s wall.” “If you see her again, keep your distance,” Vasily instructed, hurting for the girl. “No good will come from pressuring her. But if there’s anything you can do for her, do it. Without her knowledge, of course. And I don’t want any of you mentioning this to Maksim. He wouldn’t take it well. He feels responsible enough as it is.” Alek’s mouth tightened as Yuri said goodbye. “It isn’t good to keep shit from him. He’ll be insulted if he finds out he wasn’t told because you didn’t think he could handle it.” As if Vasily wasn’t aware of that. “It isn’t that he can’t handle it, it’s more that he doesn’t need to feel this any deeper than he already is. Maksim doesn’t process and then move on the way ordinary people do. He absorbs the tragedy and holds it in, like a sponge. It sounds cruel, but I’m glad Tegan isn’t around him during this. He would take in everything she’s going through and internalize it until…fuck. Who knows where it would come out?” Even though he was still reluctant, Alek nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” When he saw Vasily watching him, his pale eyes that were so like his father’s skipped away. Vasily frowned and reached out to slap an expensively clad thigh with his gloves. “What did you do?” “Nothin’.” Vasily had heard that same word spoken in the same evasive tone since Alek was five years old. “Alekzander…” “Seriously. It was just a drive by. Didn’t see her, so she has no idea her wishes aren’t being honored. Her place looked closed up. As if she hadn’t been there in a while.” “And you saw this from the car as you drove by?” he said dryly. He got nothing but a shrug and more of the back of his nephew’s head. Vasily whacked

him with the gloves again. “Okay. Okay. Gabriel and I went by last week.” His hands came up in a helpless gesture when Vasily scowled at him. “We can’t just walk away from her, Vasya. She’s one of us.” Ah, love and loyalty. It was at times like this that Vasily saw why he loved these boys as deeply as he did.

FIVE “That’s your plan?” “I thought it best to keep it simple,” Sacha said, trying not to sound defensive as she turned from staring out the second-floor window at the Tarasov soldiers down below. Justin and Steve were gawking at her, and Lekzi was asleep in her bassinet next to the desk Angela used when she brought work home; she was a crisis counselor at a women’s center. “Simple is smart.” Angela came from the kitchen, giving Sacha an apologetic smile as she handed over a cup of tea. “Or it’s just simple,” Steve countered. He and Justin worked together. Angela turned on her husband with her head tipped to convey annoyance in that way only a regal-looking black woman could. Her tight afro glistened in the light—it appeared every single one in the apartment was turned on. “You’re gonna hold tight to that crime-novel opinion until we hear a little more of what our girl has to say. Right, Steve? Just like we discussed behind her back before she got here. Right, Steve?” Steve, looking properly admonished, sliced a hand through his sandy hair and looked at Sacha. “Sorry. She’s right. We did discuss keeping an open mind and not freaking you out with our suspicions—” “Your,” his wife cut in. “Fine. My suspicions and fears over the fact that there is now a dangerous crew of Russian mobsters surrounding our building where our son lays his innocent head every night.” “Steve,” Angela ground out with a swap to his bicep. “Something you don’t seem to understand is that we’re probably safer with Sacha mobsters surrounding us than we’ve ever been.” “She’s right.” Justin looked at the TV where the security cameras Angela’s

father had installed a few months ago perfectly highlighted Anton and two other men he’d introduced as Grigori and Lucas. Grigori had immediately slipped into a pocket in Sacha’s heart because he shared her beloved father’s name. “If Sacha’s as important to Tarasov as he made it seem, these guys are here to protect her from any and all things. They won’t back down for shit.” “See? Justin gets it,” Angela said at her husband who exchanged an extended look with his friend before dropping his eyes with a guilty flush to his cheeks. His wife frowned at that and Sacha would bet all that she owned he would be questioned about it once he and his wife were alone. “They’re mafia,” Steve ground out, making Angela roll her eyes. “So? And the boys who hang out on the corner are thugs. No difference except their skin color and bank balance. They’re a family.” “I can’t picture those boys chopping off someone’s hand for stealing from them, Ang.” It wasn’t just Angela who gaped at him over that naïve remark. “No,” Justin drawled. “They’d just shoot the stupid bastard. Or circle him and lay the boots to him until he stopped moving. All of them have their ways of dealing, Steve. These guys spook you because they put themselves above you socially. They’re not street thugs and that’s intimidating.” He chuckled, and Sacha saw again this different side of Justin that sometimes came out. It wasn’t often, but when he let his guard down, he was nothing like the composed lawyer she’d initially gotten to know so well. “You should have seen the arrogance in that group,” he went on. “The leader, even as pleasant as he was, knows he has the world by the balls. You don’t get an attitude like that without earning it.” Justin dropped his solid body down on the couch with a crooked smirk on his face. “Power is a cozy partner. Now I get why my brother, of all people, has such respect for them. They’re… impressive.” “Careful. They’re gonna draw you in, and you won’t find your way back out.”

Sacha buried a smile in her mug and took a sip of her tea. Steve was so dramatic. Justin, on the other hand, sounded unconcerned. “Ugh,” Angela groaned. “You have to set some time aside and purge yourself of all the Hollywood crap, baby.” She grabbed her husband’s solemn face and smacked a kiss to his mouth. “Jot it down. Maybe we can work it into a screenplay and my brother can shop it around L.A.” She dropped a comforting pat to his chest, then went to get Justin the beer she’d promised. Already feeling so much better than she had when she’d come up here, Sacha was never more grateful for her friends. She and Angela had hit it off the first time they’d met. Sacha had come to look at the apartment, and by the gentle way Angela had treated her, Sacha had known the other girl recognized heartbreak when she saw it. When it was time to fill out the paperwork, and Sacha had given the name Sarah Brighton, Angela had lifted her head and given her a look filled with sympathy. That bad, huh? Fake names always jump out at me. You’re not a Sarah any more than I’m a John. But that’s okay, girl, I’ll cover for you. Just tell me he’s not going to show up here waving a gun around because I have a bun in the oven, and momma bear is roaring good and loud already. Plus, my daddy has a bad temper and a lot of friends. He will not come for me. I…I am also…carrying a bun. Angela had gone crazy at hearing Sacha’s bumbling reveal, squealing about fate and sisterhood. From that moment on, Sacha had held dear the closest friendship she’d ever had with another woman. Steve was more reserved. He was from a small town in Idaho, and Angela claimed his move to New York to deal with big-city criminals wasn’t the smartest thing a man with his imagination could have done. And Justin, well, hers and Justin’s friendship had grown beyond the two of them interacting because they were friends of friends. He was the type of manfriend every woman should have. He’d grown up in a wealthy family, but there was something rough about him under the surface. Something he’d kept well

hidden until recently. The better she got to know him, the more she saw his darker side. She’d overheard him on the phone once, talking to his brother in an aggressive, raw manner that had made him sound as if he was someone else entirely. Angela appeared before her and pointed to a chair. Sacha sat, and her friend dropped down. Not on the floor but right on top of Sacha’s feet. The touchy-feely used to freak Sacha out. But sensing a free-spirit, she’d soon gotten over it. The first time she and Angela had taken a walk around the neighborhood, they hadn’t made it to the end of the block before Angela was looping their arms together. Embarrassingly, Sacha had looked at her as if the girl had groped her breast. Angela had just laughed and tugged her along. No worries, girlfriend. I don’t want any part of that gorgeous booty. I just like the contact. “I heard Justin whisper some shit about you leaving.” Steve and Justin both gawked at her. She waved them off. “Seriously. You guys think you’re being all covert. We hear and see everything.” She gave them a look. “Eeeverythiiing.” She winked at Sacha when she faced her again, growing serious. “You’re not going to allow a man to drive you away from your life. I know that, and after a goodnight’s sleep, you will, too. You didn’t show up at my front door with nothing but misery in your bags, and climb your way out of the ashes just to give up now. Uh-uh. You’re also not separating Tanner and Lekzi because then we wouldn’t be able to eventually plan that wedding we’re going to make sure they have. And I know you’re not separating me from you.” She slapped the outsides of Sacha’s thighs that were twice the size of her own. “So that means, the boys are going to cover your smokin’ ass legally, and we’re going to fortify you emotionally. You’re not alone this time, and if you can bring yourself to do it, you’re going to lean on us because that’s how we do it around here.” While Sacha swallowed her tears and swooned over her best friend’s support, Justin checked a text. “Peggy’s meeting me at the office first thing

tomorrow. She heads our family law division,” he supplied when Sacha gave him an inquiring look. “With her on it, your case is won.” Her case. Could it really come to that? She couldn’t see it. “I cannot afford to pay for her services.” And Alekzander will make it so not one scheduled meeting takes place. He shrugged. “I wasn’t aware payment had been discussed.” “Then it should be because as I said, I do not have the money to pay for an attorney.” “Done. Discussed and taken care of all in the same conversation. Sheppard, Lupin, and Sheppard will offer pro bono legal services to you because you’ve given the founding father’s grandson an uncorrupted, wholesome place to hang out when he isn’t working.” Justin winked and raised his beer in a toast. Angela laughed while Steve paced. “What does that mean?” Sacha asked, wondering if he’d hung out in a notso-wholesome place at one time. That would explain his wide knowledge of bad words. “It means they’re taking your case on for free,” Angela said, misunderstanding the question. She stood. “Yeah, and earning disapproval from the fucking Russian mob,” Steve added under his breath. Sacha’s blood ran cold as she too got up and placed her empty mug on the coffee table. Steve was right. What was she doing here, allowing them to make light of this? She couldn’t ignore how grave her situation might become if things went wrong. “Steve is right. I cannot involve you in this.” She slipped her purse over her shoulder and lifted Lekzi’s bassinet, careful not to wake her yet. She would need to eat before she was out for the night, but hopefully, Sacha would have enough time to prepare for bed before then. “As I said earlier, I will keep it simple by having this meeting with Alekzander in the morning. If I see that he plans to pursue me, I will have to leave.”

“It won’t come to that,” Justin said confidently. Steve shot his friend an impatient look and went over to stand behind Angela. Before he spoke, he brought his hand around and covered his wife’s mouth. His skin appeared pale next to her dark complexion. The contrast was distractingly lovely. “Since nobody wants to say it like it is because they don’t want to risk hurting your feelings, Sacha, I’ll be the asshole here. You’re being naïve, and quite honestly, blind as shit. You’re not dealing with an old high school sweetheart who works in an insurance office and plays golf on the weekends. You’re dealing with a man born into one of the most ruthless Russian organized crime families to exist in the last hundred years, who just so happens to own a multi-billion-dollar company on the side. Overachiever much?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes that made Sacha want to slap them out of his head. “He’s not going to frown and wave his finger in your face if he finds out you had his kid and kept her from him for months and months. He’s going to lose his fucking mind because you stole from him something those guys live and die for; their family. Plain and simple; he’s going to destroy your little fucking life. And that’s only if he’s not in the mood to kill you and dump your body in the Hudson so he can take his daughter and raise her to be the next Russian mafia princess. And anyone who gets in his way will join you in that watery grave. All of you wake the fuck up to the reality of this situation. He’s stationed guards here not to protect her but because he wants her. There are goddamn mobsters surrounding our fucking building right now!” he spat as he pointed to the muted TV. “They probably have semi-automatic weapons under their five-hundred-dollar coats! If you think there’s still a possibility that you can take Tarasov’s child and “leave,” you need to give your head a shake. What you should be doing right now, is praying.” With that, he released his wife’s mouth and stormed across the room. He didn’t slam the bedroom door but closed it quietly. He might be angry, but he was still aware enough not to frighten the two babies in the house. “You’re right,” Justin said to Angela. “He should write a book or

something.” “Right?” she said, bobbing her head in an I-told-you-so fashion. Neither was fazed by the outburst. Sacha was shaking. She stared at the door Steve had just hidden behind and tried not to show how livid she suddenly was. How dare he voice such a warped, negative representation of Alekzander’s character? So biased and…Hollywood! Her daughter’s father was so much more than a successful businessman who’d been born into a family with questionable ties. He was strong, protective, loving. He was affectionate and warm, and generous and thoughtful. He was witty and funny, and he’d been her very best friend as well as a considerate, incredibly erotic lover. And, yes, he was a member of the Tarasov Bratva, and a cheating, womanizing jerk. There was no denying that. But that was not all he was. Pulling up the bassinet and cradling her daughter that much more protectively, as though sheltering her from what had, so unfairly, been said about her father, Sacha went to leave. She was furious with herself for feeling insulted on Alekzander’s behalf, but it was there, and she couldn’t pretend otherwise. Not to herself. Angela touched her arm as she made it to the door, her smile careful as she slipped Lekzi’s diaper bag over Sacha’s shoulder. “Don’t be upset by what he said. He’s not used to this kind of thing. My dad’s friends were forever sitting around our kitchen table eating my mom’s amazing creations. Sure, now we know they were gangs and la familia, but at the time, they were just dad’s friends. What people see on the surface is rarely what is.” She looked back at Justin, who was by the window, texting once more. When she came back around, she took Sacha by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “How did you feel when you saw him?” she whispered. “For real.” Sacha didn’t mean to be honest, but when she opened her mouth, it just tumbled out. “It was awful. Seeing him was awful and wonderful and terrifying and maddening. I felt as if I had woken from a dead sleep. I would not admit this

to anyone but you because it sounds so silly and dramatic, but I did not realize how broken I was until he reappeared to kick around the pieces he left behind.” “Oh, baby girl.” Angela pulled her in, and they hugged for a long time. For once, Sacha didn’t feel awkward and pull away. “I’m so sorry you love him like that.” Sacha nodded but was unable to speak. She did love him “like that”, and she was sorry, too. “I couldn’t help but get the vibe that Tarasov thinks you and I are bumping uglies,” Justin said as he came over. “If it helps tomorrow, play on that. I don’t mind if you use me to drive him away. If he thinks we’re involved, will he respect that, or fight it?” “I do not know,” she lied. Alekzander would not take that well. “The option is there. If you want to throw a boyfriend at him, I’ve dated my share of women. It’ll seem legit.” Sacha was surprised by that. “Really? Are you…interested in…I mean, I do not want to pry, but…” Justin chuckled and pulled her in to kiss her temple in that way he always did. The rage that had entered Alekzander’s eyes when he’d seen the gesture at the restaurant was what had sent Sacha fleeing. “My boy/girl dates were for my father’s sake. And…others. I don’t go around advertising how attractive I find David Beckham, but I certainly don’t bother anymore with the pretense of admiring his wife for anything but her business acumen.” Sacha gripped the bassinet handles with one hand and hugged her gorgeous friend. “I will keep my eye out for a wonderful partner for you,” she promised. “Introduce me to your brother and we’ll be all set.” He said with a wink as he reached for the door. “You are the closest thing I have so that would be impossible.” She waved at Angela and missed the profoundly touched look Justin gave her as she walked

out into the corridor. A chill flashed down her spine when she saw Grigori standing guard near the top of the stairs. He was big, grim-looking, and a few years older than her. She quickly made sure Lekzi was still asleep and well covered. If the baby were to open her eyes and look at any one of Alekzander’s men, they would know immediately who her father was.

SIX Alek was itching to text Maks again to ask for an update. The last fuck off and let me work he’d gotten was thirty minutes ago. Guy must have something by now, he thought, looking at his Piaget as he, his uncle, and Dmitri crossed the lobby of the building Alek and Sacha had seen for the first time during a snowstorm. Alek had told the real estate agent they’d take the unit the minute he’d seen Sacha’s eyes light up at the view. After signing something he hadn’t even scanned, he’d sent the woman on her way, shooing her out into the hallway and toward the elevators. He and Sacha were christening the place before that lift had any chance of reaching the lobby. “Evening, Mr. Tarasov.” He flashed the peace sign at the familiar face behind the reception-slashsecurity desk but didn’t stop to chat about his sudden reappearance after more than a year-long absence. They rode the elevator up and entered the place he’d once loved coming home to. It smelled of lemons; a result of the cleaners he still had coming in once a week. But it was quiet as a tomb. Fitting. Was he touching her right now? Alek’s jaw locked as he forced the thought back into the box it kept escaping from. The sinister feelings that came with it rode low under the surface of his patience. He was doing pretty well. Not obsessing. Keeping a clear head. But that goddamn attorney’s presence was drilling a hole in the top of his skull, and that agonizing buzz wasn’t letting up. He doubted it would until the issue was dealt with. Had Sacha told Sheppard what Alek had done to her? Did Sheppard know Alek had been her first—and would be her only—love? If not, he soon would. The sweepers had left the lights on, and a golden glow lit up the foyer,

highlighting the polished tile stamped with an elaborate T intertwined with an uber-feminine U—a gift he’d presented Sacha with on their six-month anniversary. He put his coffee and the apples he’d picked up at Starbucks on the table beneath a gilded mirror, and after hanging up their coats, he collected his sustenance—braced himself—and went through into the main room. It was an open concept unit with a long island separating the living area from the kitchen. A darkened hallway branched off leading to the bedrooms. The dining area sat neglected in an alcove surrounded by windows. Seeing the place through his eyes tonight was nothing compared to how he’d seen it the last time he walked out the door. It had been through a flood of moisture because he’d known he was leaving behind a home full of beautiful memories he’d vowed to treasure forever. At that point, he’d seen Sacha twice at the small hotel where Maks had tracked her. He’d gotten but two brief glimpses of her, both in the evening when she’d opened the door to accept a food delivery. The urge to go to her had been crippling, and because he knew he would eventually cave, he’d cut himself off and put Sergei on guard duty. The guy had been in denial about his family’s death and had been begging for something to do. Since Vasily had refused to place him, Alek had. And he’d lived to regret it because his cousin had lost track of Sacha the day she checked out of the hotel. “Nostalgia’s a funny thing.” He lifted his head to see he’d stopped next to one of the end tables that held a conch shell he and Sacha had brought home from the only trip they’d taken together. He’d wanted to see her in a bathing suit so he’d taken her to St. Barts for a week. Straight up porn. That’s how he would describe those curves in her red bikini. God, the things they’d done together that week. His angel may have been an uncertain, hesitant virgin when he’d met her, but her ability to learn and learn well had turned their alone time into one hell of an enjoyable thing. “Yeah, it’s, uh…yeah.” “You’re curiously well-contained considering what Sacha might be doing

right now.” The brutally direct observation had the air whooshing from Alek’s lungs in a painful burst, made worse because it came from his uncle. Anger had him revealing himself in a way he would only ever do with this man. “And you think bringing that out in the open is going to help me keep a lid on the fucking horror trying to escape that dark, fucked-up place inside me right now? Do you think I’m not smothering the goddamn possibility of them being together as quickly as it repeatedly bobs to the surface? I want to go stand over Maks with a fucking whip and demand he works harder and faster to get me what I want. This shouldn’t be taking him so long. But at the same time, I don’t want to know where she is because I’m concerned the minute you leave me alone, I’ll be rolling up in front of her place with my fucking trunk lined and ready to transport an innocent man’s bludgeoned body to a bog in Jersey.” He slammed his treasured apples on the end table next to his coffee. “I want to rip through this motherfucking city and wreak havoc until that goddamn woman is standing before me. I want to clear the way, and then do you know what I want? Who I’ve become?” he demanded, breathing roughly. “I want to experience the pleasure of having her come to me all on her own. Like the self-entitled asshole I am, I want to sit like a fucking king on my throne and have the angel I’ve been searching for crawl up and take her place on my lap because she knows that’s where she belongs. And that’s where she wants to be. I want this to be a done deal so I don’t hurt anybody along the way. But there’s also that part of me who’ll happily kill a thousand men if that’s what it takes to get to her.” He finally shut his fucking mouth and snapped into focus to find Dmitri long gone and Vasily leaning against the bar in front of the large window, sipping his coffee. “That’s more like it.” His uncle slowly came around the couch to stand in front of him. He cupped the side of Alek’s face. “You continue to keep that bottled up, it’s going to spill over at the most inconvenient time. I don’t think

Sacha would respond well to something like that. Knowing her, she wouldn’t understand it at all.” With an affectionate pat, Alek was released. He’d been provoked on purpose. Embarrassing that he hadn’t caught that before going off. But he did feel better. “Come sit with me,” Vasily said. “I need to talk to you about something.” Alek swiped up one of his apples and followed his uncle to the dining table in the corner that overlooked Madison Square Park. “I understand what’s happening is important,” Vasily started as he took the lid off his cup. “But it’s pulling you from your immediate surroundings. From the time we left the restaurant, you haven’t taken note of anything but what’s going on in your own head. I shouldn’t have to tell you how dangerous that is right now. You’re going to promise me that you’ll leave her behind when you walk out the door. If you’re in a secure place, lose yourself, I don’t care. But if you’re somewhere you can be a target, keep your focus sharp and pay attention.” More of that unfamiliar thing called embarrassment came over him. “Right,” he murmured. “He’s never come at us so directly, but if he had tonight, I’d have been an easy target.” For the firestarter who’d taken to sending messages by burning sheep. Fuckhead. Vasily worked his neck with his inked fingers. “Yes, you would have. Don’t do that to me. You pay the fuck attention or I’ll nail two of the boys to your ass and you’ll soon learn how awkward it is to be observed while taking a shit.” His brows came down as he sipped his coffee. “Actually, that was one of the things I was going to tell you. I am, in fact, going to insist you have one man with you at all times until this issue is dealt with. And even after. Anton seems the best choice, and Grigori and Lucas will be at his disposal if he feels there’s a need for them.” He held up a hand when Alek, naturally, went to protest. “Don’t bother, son. He’s on you whether you want the company or not. We all have to deal with it; why should you be any different? And you’ll soon find

having him at your back is more a comfort than a nuisance.” Alek bit into his apple and gave in gracefully. One, because he liked and respected Anton. Two, because he could now hear the fucking guy in the foyer, talking quietly with Dmitri. And, three, when Vasily used that tone, there was no point in arguing. He’d learned that lesson when he was eight years old and his eighteenyear-old uncle would visit with Alek’s grandfather. Everyone was different when Ivan Tarasov was present. Especially Vasily. He would follow his father into the study, unsmiling, and would remain in there with up to a dozen other men for hours at a time. Alek would sometimes wait outside the door and listen, trying to pick out his uncle’s voice. He’d never liked the way it sounded during those meetings. But then the Pakhan would leave with his men. And it wouldn’t be Vasily who turned from the doorway with that playful glint in his eye. It would be Alek’s beloved Vasya. That was when Alek would run away laughing, and after being allowed to think he’d gotten away, Vasily would come out of nowhere and scare the hell out of him. Then they’d spend the rest of the day together; uncle patiently being led around by nephew, enthusing over things that must have bored him to tears. All that had changed when Alek was nine, when, for a while, Vasily’s visits had trickled to almost nothing. Alek now knew that was because his uncle had met Kathryn. Things were never the same after that. “I know it bothers you when I ask,” Vasily continued, moving on, “but can you tell me if Maksim has mentioned anything he might be doing to find our problem?” A grave silence descended between them. It had nothing to do with ratting out his friend. “What’s going on? Have you learned something?” “Answer my question.” He barely stopped his eyebrow from popping when Vasily barked at him in a way he rarely did. “No. From what he told us, you ordered him to keep his

nose out of it, and he is. If he’s taken it upon himself to dig, he hasn’t shared that with me. I can’t speak for V or Gabriel, though. You’ll have to ask them personally.” “I have, and got the same response.” He sipped his coffee and then got up and went to the bar. He brought back a bottle of Stoli and two glasses. He poured one and hovered over the other, raising his brow. Alek shook his head for the first time in a long while and took another bite of his apple. He wanted a clear head tomorrow. “I’m having a hard time believing he’s let it go,” Vasily murmured. “Why are you holding him back from this one? If he starts up, I’m sure he’d put the pieces together as only he can and you would have this fucker sooner rather than later.” “I don’t want you sharing what I’m about to tell you.” Vasily tossed back the shot then sat forward, rolling his empty glass between his hands. The artistically done setting sun on the top of his right caught Alek’s eye. On its own it would signify freedom. Vasily’s had a thick strike through it, which meant he’d never be free of this life. If he could walk away, would he? Alek had never asked because he wouldn’t have wanted the question to imply he was seeking the information for his own benefit. As violent and sometimes corrupt as their world was, it was all Alek had ever known, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to find a home anywhere else. “Lucian has gotten himself involved.” Lucian Fane was the single most powerful of all the leaders. In complete contrast to Vasily, the Romanian ran his legitimate business empire side-by-side with his not-so-legitimate one, and he had enough heavy hitters in his pocket to save him from having to completely hide that fact. He was feared, and rightly so. Lucian’s ruthless reputation was well-earned from actions taken when deemed necessary. There was no such thing as a warning from the Fane camp. Reaching across to pull a napkin from the pretty dispenser Sacha had brought home one afternoon after a trip to Chelsea Market, Alek wrapped up his

apple core and was tempted to take a shot of the vodka after all. “What is it about the situation that interests him?” “Our associates are drawing away until this is dealt with, and that’s being discussed. Lucian doesn’t want the attention it’s bringing to our deals.” “I’m surprised he hasn’t pulled out.” “He’s confident his reputation will make it so our problem doesn’t target him or the business we’re doing with him, namely the four cargo ships he is now monopolizing.” Alek was properly impressed. “Four?” “He’s moving a lot of product between here and Europe; steel, construction equipment, building supplies that are going out weekly. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was building his own fucking city.” “Wouldn’t shock me,” Alek murmured, his business side tingling to get involved. The Romanian would certainly be able to afford it. “I see Gotham when I picture it.” Vasily smirked. “The vampire-turn-bat thing. Yeah, that gets me a lot too when Lucian is in the room. Must be his heritage. Never joke about that with him. He’s…sensitive.” “I’ve seen his ‘sensitive’.” “It’s pretty impressive. To people like us, I mean.” Spinning his glass on it’s edge, he caught it before it rolled away. “Apparently, one of Lucian’s men had a sit-down with the clerk who has taken a couple of calls from our snitch. He gets an outline and then forwards the info onto our friend, Detective Smythe. Eight of the eleven calls they’ve received have come from a number that can’t be traced by the NYPD. Lucian gave it to his people and it led his boys to my warehouse in Brighton Beach.” Shock had Alek sitting back with a thump. “What the fuck? This son of a bitch is that close?” Vasily nodded. “The other three calls were made from an untraceable cell that came from an unknown location in Nassau County.”

Alek’s stomach rolled in a sickening wave. They lived in Nassau County. “Now, I understand that’s a large area, but it’s our area. My main residence is there. So is yours. This bastard is close enough to have the ability to enter my office at the warehouse without causing suspicion. And he hasn’t only made his calls from our area, he’s been invited into my home. I trust him enough to have left him unsupervised for the length of time it took him to get into my private files and find the paper trail that led him to Eva’s mother.” Holy shit. “What paper trail?” Alek knew very little about Kathryn Jacobs. Basically, only that she existed. He’d heard Eva talk about her as a daughter would her mother, but never Vasily. “When I left them,” his uncle surprised him by saying, making it appear Alek’s ignorance on the subject was about to change. “I arranged for a solicitor to contact Kathryn with a story of an uncle of hers who died without a next-ofkin. His ‘estate’ went to her, and a deposit was made into her account every month.” He got to his feet and went over to stand before the window. “I left her completely alone with a three-month-old infant. She had no support. Her father had been a state trooper who’d been killed when she was fourteen. Her mother— who I never got a chance to meet but who sounded like a bitch—had moved back to France, her home country, the year before I met Kathryn.” Vasily turned back to the room, and Alek noted his stare was unfocused. His uncle was no longer here with him but in the past. “Eva’s mother was…brilliant. She was so small. Blonde. Sadly, our daughter doesn’t resemble her much until she smiles. Or cries. Though she does have the same astute mind. Kathryn would have swept through seven years of college in under four if I hadn’t come along. She’d have been a licenced pharmacist before the age of twenty. Isn’t that impressive? I was in awe of her.” He came back and stood next to the chair he’d vacated. “I met her on the Tacoma campus of the University of Washington. She thought I was a student.” He smiled as though remembering something. “You have no idea how pissed I was when she told me she was only seventeen. Not that I wasn’t willing to risk

jail time to be with her…but luckily, her eighteenth birthday was less than a week away so I didn’t break any laws where she was concerned. Until later, of course.” He fell silent and Alek was overcome with sympathy. The loneliness filling the room wasn’t something he’d ever been allowed to witness. It struck him then that Vasily had been alone for nearly twenty-five years. Twenty-five fucking years. “This leads me to my reasons for keeping Maksim away from this. If he finds the person responsible for Kathryn’s death before I do, he will be tempted to kill him. That can’t happen.” Alek would understand why. “You’ve never spoken of her before now.” He didn’t mind admitting he was mildly disturbed to be hearing his uncle do so now. Vasily shrugged. “She’s been coming to me a lot lately. I’m hoping if I purge some of my memories I might find some peace.” As he came over, he offered a not-so-confident smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t believe that. “You have no idea how relieved I am that you won’t be following in my footsteps after all.” He kissed the top of Alek’s head before taking the bunched up napkin and his dirty glass over to the sink. Once there, he took his phone out and read a text. “Maksim is going incommunicado.” Alek jumped to his feet. “What?” He ripped his phone out and called the idiot. “He can’t do that now.” “Said all the interruptions are hindering his work and he’ll call you the second he has her.” Frustration sizzled through Alek’s blood as the generic voicemail greeting came on. He stabbed his thumb on the screen to disconnect. “Now that there’s no chance you’ll go off with your lined trunk and ready body bag,” Vasily said with a wink. “I’ll leave you to get some rest.” Alek walked him out and said his goodbyes. He came back in with Anton and they talked for a while about what to expect from each other. Confident they

were going to get along fine, he found himself wandering around the apartment. He kept thinking about the expression Vasily had worn when he’d talked about Kathryn Jacobs. It had been familiar. When he realized why, he took his phone out and called his cousin. His goddamn cousin who was working his way through something none of them could hope to comprehend. Alek had seen Sacha tonight, received another chance. He could have held her, kissed her, touched her. Tomorrow he might argue with her, then make up. They would sit down and talk, maybe laughed, hopefully love. His cousin never would again. Not with his wife, and not with his son. “You there, Alek?” Sergei’s voice registered when he spoke louder. He cleared away the knot that had formed in his throat. “Hey. Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. Are you busy?” He wandered down the corridor and into the master bedroom. “Not that busy. Do you need me?” His kept his eyes away from the bed that should have scorch marks around it. “No, brother. I’m good. How are you?” A heavy silence descended, lingering when Sergei got what was being asked. “Same. Why do you continue with this? That question is pointless because the answer will not change. Stop now, please.” The guy had hung from a thread for months but now seemed to be pulling himself up from his death spiral. Alek couldn’t imagine how. He stood in front of the window and felt ashamed as he watched the light flurries. He and Sergei had been living in their misery for the same amount of time, but when one compared the two… “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. Want to come over for a drink?” “No, thanks, man. I am getting shit done.” His lip quirked at the expression Sergei had laughed at when he’d first heard it upon settling in the States five years ago. Alek was convinced it had been Sergei’s mother who’d pushed her son to relocate. Vasily had gone to see

his much older sister before she died and she’d told him to expect Sergei and his family in America within the year. They’d shown six months later, so a promise must have been made. The regrets and what-ifs must drive the guy insane. Had he stayed in Russia, he’d still have his wife and child. “If you finish up early, swing by the Flatiron apartment. I’ll be here all night.” There was a tense moment of silence. “It is true then? I heard the boys say something about Anton being assigned to you because you were bringing your female back into the fold. I was on the phone and thought I had to be mistaken. What has happened?” Almost feeling cruel, Alek kept it short. “We were at the restaurant and she walked in.” Sergei hadn’t come to the engagement party for obvious reasons. Watching a couple begin their new life together could only add insult to injury. A thump sounded. “Just like that? You are kidding me. Are you with them now?” “Who? The boys? Did you drop something?” “Yes. My gun. I almost shot Reynard.” He chuckled tightly and Alek heard Sergei’s regular partner curse in the background. “Uh, yes, are the boys with you? Or her? Did you speak with her? What did she tell you?” Knowing Sergei’s English suffered when he was agitated, Alek made sure to cover all the bases because he wasn’t sure what exactly he was being asked. “The boys are home, as far as I know, and Vasily just left. As for speaking to Sacha…” He hesitated when he felt something he hadn’t felt in well over a year. The stirrings of desire. Not a simple hard-on, but a rush of heat centered in his groin that grew in strength and hardened him to stone. Sacha. Sacha. By releasing her back into his consciousness, the woman was doing what she’d always effortlessly done; light him up. He cleared the roughness he knew would be in his voice and went on. “We talked, and will do so again tomorrow. She was with someone.” “Who? Did you see her? Meet her?”

“It wasn’t a woman friend; it was a man.” “What! A man. What man? Are you certain they were together? That isn’t right!” Sergei’s explosion came out in Russian and Alek was touched by the outrage he could hear in his cousin’s voice on his behalf. “My thoughts exactly. I plan on taking care of it tomorrow.” “Alek, are you sure this is wise? You should think about this before you go any further. What if something happens? What if they are left unattended—?” “I won’t allow anything to happen,” Alek cut in, then questioned, “Who’s ‘they’?” “The family you must want with her!” Fuck. Why had opened this can of worms? “Oh, right. I don’t have to think about this. I know now that I’ll do anything I have to do to protect them.” A family with her. Fuck, that sounded beautiful. “Oh. Yes, I think I see now. You will not allow harm to come to them. You will do what you must to protect them.” Sarcasm dripped from his cousin’s words. “I see. So I allowed my wife and child to be chopped up by our uncle’s enemies. Having them live an hour outside the city and not returning home for sometimes days at a time when the family was on high alert was not protection enough.” Alek’s spine shot straight. “No! Jesus Christ, Sergei. You know that’s not what I meant.” “I heard you!” he shouted away from the receiver. “I have to go.” “Hey. I never meant to imply you failed to do all you could for your family. I swear to God.” A rough sigh came after a long moment. “I know you didn’t. Forgive me. My fuse is not what it used to be. I should not taint your reunion with the misery of my experience. I truly wish you well, cousin. And much luck to you. I think you will all need it.”

♦ ♦ ♦ Sergei Pivchenko slammed his phone so hard onto the bathroom counter the face cracked. He sucked in a few breaths, and when that did nothing to calm his racing heart, he grabbed the broken cell and banged his hand on the switch to kill the lights as he left the room. The moment he reached the main floor of the house, he heard her screaming that name. Pounding down the stairs into the basement, he blew into her room, sending his guest stumbling back from where she’d been shouting and crying at the door. Just as she did every time, she attempted to get around him and dart out. He easily clamped an arm around her waist to prevent her escape. She struggled like a little animal as he got her on her cot. Holding her there with a knee on her chest and a hand around her throat, he uncapped the syringe he’d snagged from the bookshelf just outside. “No! Don’t! Please…stop…this…” she rasped, trying to breathe over the pressure he was exerting that must be crushing her lungs. He jerked her arm straight with more force than he normally used and jabbed the needle into her vein. “Let me…go…please…” He tipped his head, giving her a patronizing look that she didn’t see because her wet eyes rolled back in her head as she lost consciousness. “Your pointless dramatics have become more than a nuisance.” He jerked away from her, still taking deep, slow breaths, hoping to get a grip on himself before he did something stupid like kill this one because she was in front of him. He paced in a circle and felt his pulse begin to slow as his and Alek’s conversation played over in his head. When Alek had first ended his relationship with Sacha, Sergei had been tasked with babysitting the girl, and he had, but only for a short time. Once she changed locations to an address he hadn’t shared, he’d considered his job done

and had pretended to lose her. But by then, he’d been busy. His resolve had cemented. Within weeks of being left alone in his misery, and with nothing but his thoughts for company—aside from the ghosts of his loved ones, of course— he’d gotten serious in his attempts to destroy the organization that had done such irreparable damage to his life. It wasn’t until last spring that he’d returned to visit Alek’s ex. And he’d only done so because he’d heard Alek had a P.I. searching for her. He’d stationed himself across the street from her building to make sure she was still in residence and had been stunned to see she was about to have a baby. He’d questioned an old, chatty resident and learned what a nice young girl “Sarah” was. Again, satisfied she and the child she would soon have were safely hidden, he’d let them be. Not once had he suspected she might become involved with another man. While she was pregnant? How could she? He pushed the thought away. Who cared? His mistake had been in not scaring her away. He should have made her leave the New York area altogether. He would do that now. There must be something he could come up with that would hurt enough to make her once more walk away from the man she loved. The man she really loved. How could she be with someone else? How could she be so disloyal? That was infuriating. He shook his head to dislodge the thought again and got back to what mattered. If she wouldn’t go voluntarily, he would resort to desperate measures. He’d done it before and was willing to do it again. “Her reappearance is going to fuck with my timeline,” he muttered aloud as he recapped the empty syringe before tossing it into the trash. He ran his hand over his guest’s unwashed hair. She’d need to bathe soon. He hated that day of the week but could do nothing to change it. He couldn’t leave her in her own filth. Well, anymore more than he already was. After leaving the small room, he stood outside the door that couldn’t be opened from the inside and cocked his head. Silence. They’d never used the basement much, but it wasn’t the absence of noise he heard, it was the absence

of life. As would be found in other homes, there was no music playing, no TV blaring, no dishes being done or snack being prepared. No one was arguing, or playing, or laughing. Because this wasn’t a home anymore. It was a house. A silent house. But that was preferable to his guest’s nonsense, he thought as he got moving. It wasn’t the banging and shouting that bothered him. It was the crying. He hated hearing it because it reminded him of tears he’d ignored by slamming out of the house, impatient to get away from them when at one time he would have done anything to stem them. That was what made him sedate his guest. It was always worse when she screamed for her child, as she’d be doing a few minutes ago. That sometimes caused him to lose his temper. He’d never done her permanent damage, but he’d hurt her. But not even that stopped her from shouting that name over and over, and continuously attempting to gain her freedom. But as he told her time and again, her tenacity was admirable but futile. She was going nowhere. She would remain in that room no larger than a bathroom until the day she died. Whether that be of natural causes or he killed her, he still hadn’t decided. Rubbing at his forehead, he could almost hear her begging. “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell a soul what you look like or that you kept me here. I just want to go home. Please! Let me out of here!” Sometimes she changed it up and asked why he’d done this, claiming she wasn’t a part of their world. And she wasn’t. Not directly. But indirectly, the tie was there. Love was love, and family was family. Pain was pain. Dead was dead. In his case, anyway. As he walked through the beautifully decorated living room toward the stairs, he felt nothing. Not guilty. Not even bad. He was a yawning pit of emptiness. And he would remain in that state when someone’s mother once more cried, begged, and made her promises. And, in the coming days, when

someone’s brother did the same; if he allowed himself the satisfaction of getting close enough to hear those pleas, they would be ignored. He would not relent. Until they all felt his pain, he would continue on this path. That was his vow, and it was one he intended to keep. He thought again about the baby girl about to be discovered. An innocent infant was going to bring joy to two men who didn’t deserve it. Unless Sergei could stop it. His thoughts grew darker the higher up the stairs he went. If Sacha didn’t heed the warning he would try to get to her—if he could get to her at all because knowing Alek, the girl was likely cloaked with security by now—Sergei might be forced to kill her and the baby. He would make their deaths quick and painless because they didn’t deserve anything worse. Well, the baby didn’t. Sacha, on the other hand, had been unfaithful. If she was with another man, her death would hurt. When he opened the door to the main floor and took that last step up, his image appeared in the long mirror on the wall opposite him. He stared into his pale-green eyes and considered something. Alek’s pain. How brutal would it be to find your love, learn you have a daughter together, then lose them both only days later? “You ready?” He looked at the man standing by the front door at the end of the hallway and nodded. Yes, he was ready. Ready to end this. But for now, he would content himself with getting to Rapture before Maksim showed and asked why they were late.

SEVEN It was almost noon by the time Maks showed at the apartment. He came sauntering into Alek’s office just off the foyer, looking all casual, as if it were any other day. Alek got up and came around his desk. He’d gone to TarMor at five a.m. and brought home some work to occupy his mind. It had been working. Sporadically. He caught a bag that was lobbed over as he smoothed down his silver and navy striped tie. He placed the bag—smelled like Hvorost—on the corner of his desk. Did up his jacket. Ran his tongue across the front of his teeth. “You seriously going to wait for me to ask, you asshat?” Maks grinned and tipped his head, making the diamond studs in his ears twinkle. “Those Edward Greens? Split toes are my favorite. Good choice for today because I have a feeling you’ll be doing a lot of pacing. Got any coffee? The Hvorost at my bakery is kickass; the coffee is swill.” It was only because Maks’s playful mood indicated good news was coming that Alek was able to pass by on his way out and not deliver a hard punch. He owed him one, after all. When they made it to the kitchen, he nodded a good morning to Micha, who now had half of Anton’s Moscow Times in his face where they sat at the dining table. “So when were you going to tell us you lost your touch?” he said conversationally. He opened the cupboard, and ignoring the pods for the Keurig, grabbed the unopened bag of beans and the grinder. “I haven’t. Syd needing a soak in the hot tub after I was through with her this morning will attest to that.” Alek poured the beans and the whir of them grinding filled the apartment. He glared at his friend. What a dick. “You shouldn’t talk that way about your future wife,” he said when he

shut the machine down and transferred the grounds to a filter. “Why? You should hear the shit I’ve caught our three ladies talking about during random security checks. You’d never catch me giving you pointers and demonstrating on garden vegetables. Mind you; I did find an empty bottle of wine in the kitchen when I got home that night. But Gabriel’s smutty little woman is pregnant, which means she was sober, so she has no excuse for the tips she was offering her friends.” Alek had to laugh as he poured a decanter of water into the belly of the coffee maker and turned it on. “My question referred to your hacking abilities. Are we going to have to go elsewhere when we need info? Or just wait days for you to get your decrepit ass in gear.” Maks shook his head and shrugged out of his three-quarter-length wool coat to reveal black slacks and a wine-colored button-down. “Oh, Alek, Alek. Now I get to gloat, and you get to feel stupid as you thank me.” As long as an address came with that stupid, he was fine with it. “Thank you for what?” “Having Lucian treat Vex like a puppet by getting him to send his little stepbro to my party with a present for you.” Alek’s brows came together. He shook his head and made a carry-on motion as he opened a drawer to take out some spoons. Vex was the president of the Manhattan chapter of the Obsidian Devils MC. Both the Tarasov organization and the Moretti family had a good relationship with the motorcycle club, since the VP, Caleb Paynne, was a part of Vincente’s family. Nika’s brother was handy to have in their back pocket. “I found her five days ago.” He did a cartoon double-take and winced when he slammed the drawer on his thumb. “You what?” “Syd gave me a few clues as to what Sacha might have done after you two broke apart. One idea was that she returned to school to finish that degree she used to get so excited talking about. I hacked a shit ton of colleges in the New

York area, and ran her name through enrollment and financial aid but came up with nothing. Apparently, country-wide online colleges are a different animal, and when I searched those archives, I hit. Yale offers open courses, and your little princessa is taking advantage. I snagged the IP address associated with her account, traced it to her addy, and found out the computer she uses belongs to the landlord, but Sacha’s the one feeding her brain.” Maks crossed his arms and got into his groove as Alek listened so intently he must have looked like a goddamn slow loris. “Micha and I hung around her building and learned the hottie who pushes the big stroller and lives in unit 1A is the local ‘babysitter’; Sarah Brighton. Still don’t understand the alias yet but I will,” he said as an aside. “She doesn’t advertise as a daycare because, from what I can only assume, she’d have to jump through some hoops to get certified by the state. She’s either too smart to bother or uninformed. You can ask her about that when we head over in a few.” He put up a hand and winked when Alek tried to jump on that. “Saw Sheppard pull up outside her place at one point and bee-line it to her apartment. Checked him out and got the info I gave you last night—I wasn’t searching for it while you were trying not to strangle him outside of Yin’s; it was already saved in here.” He waved his phone. “When I was researching the family, I learned Sheppard has a couple of siblings; one of each. The half-brother lives in New York, and the half-sister lives abroad. Her name is Kristen. She’s a couple of years younger than Sacha and interns at a fashion house in Paris. Single, but will make someone some sweet arm-candy one day. The brother, on the other hand, is a meathead biker named Vex fucking Mason—Mason?” He wasted time sneering at the name. “What the fuck, right? No wonder he dropped it. Anyway, Vex being Sheppard’s stepbrother might account for a portion of his attitude. When I learned that, I paid Lucian a visit and begged a favor. Told him I’d owe him if he could quietly get the grease monkey to quietly steer little bro in our direction last night. Didn’t say why, but did have to promise we weren’t going to hit the attorney with a spray of bullets—main reason Vasily called us

off the guy.” Maks paused, and where, typically, after doing a play-by-play he’d have a been wearing a smug grin, currently he looked wary. As if he thought Alek might react badly to all of this. He just might. “Syd thought it would go down a little easier for both you and your woman—your ‘cheated-on’ woman—if you ran into each other organically rather than you showing at her door demanding she come to heel. Her words, not mine. I tried to tell her you weren’t me, but she wasn’t listening. Oh, and making you take some time to get your head on straight was Vasily’s idea. I felt for you having to wonder about her all night.” He looked at Anton. “Did Vasily make you zip it?” Anton got up and came over. “You will be reassured to know she arrived home safe, and her friend left within the hour.” Alek finally blinked. He wasn’t sure if he should be furious at being left out of the loop or grateful that they’d all had his back. He took some cups down and poured the coffee. He was silent as he handed them off. Okay. He couldn’t address the coddling. If he did, it would make him appear ungrateful and petty. But that didn’t mean anger wasn’t forming over it. It was. And it wasn’t a new thing. He’d be the first to admit he was slightly spoiled. Because of how he was raised, and who’d raised him, he’d never struggled or been through the type of life-altering trials his friends had. After his mom had passed away when he was eleven, Vasily had banded with his brother. The two had taken over and continued to provide Alek with a home made up of security, love, and strong leading hands. When Alek’s dad followed his wife seven years later, twentyeight-year-old Vasily had barely blinked at being left with another dependant— he’d already had Maksim under his wing by then. The three of them had gotten through the loss of Evgeny Tarasov together. Strange how Alek’s family ties did the opposite of what one would think. Rather than bring him instant respect, it brought the lack of it from some. Alek

had been told outright by an associate that the coddling he’d received had prevented him from gaining the skills necessary to thrive in their world. To them, Alek hadn’t earned the right to call himself a Tarasov; he’d simply been born with the name. It had taken him a long time before he was able to ignore the question he’d sometimes see in an associate’s eyes; What’s the little prince doing here? It wasn’t until he was in his mid-twenties that he’d gotten a handle on the insecurity. And that was only after he’d brought the subject up with his uncle. Let them underestimate you, Alek. It is a good thing they do not yet know what you’re capable of. You probably don’t even know yet. So you travel through our world in silence. Do what you must, but remember, never make a move you are not willing to best. An enemy kicks the tire of your car? You put him in his place by taking a sledgehammer to his foot. Another hears of this and repeats the insult to see how far you can be pushed. What do you do then? You bring in a small tractor with a front end loader, and you drop the bucket on his legs. Another tries his luck with you? You find yourself a wood chipper, you secure him to a plank, and you send him in up to his thighs. The trick when you’re making an example out of someone; never let them die, because with them will go your message. Something those patronizing few weren’t aware of was that Alek’s lack of a reputation was a direct testament to the way Vasily had taught him to conducted business. One did things quietly. One didn’t boast or share, because most times if individuals weren’t directly involved in a situation, there was no need for them to learn about it after the fact. Alek had taken that to heart, which was why he was able to keep his legitimate life separate from this one. True threats move in silence, son. Do you know of any predators that announce their presence before they attack? Do they drag their kill around to prove to everyone how strong they are? No. You shouldn’t either. He sipped his scalding coffee and finally asked, “Where is she?”

Maks put his cup down. “Sunnyside.” “Queens?” “Yeah. I don’t know what she was thinking, but she’s in a ground floor apartment, wide open to any molester-slash-murderer who’d want to target a smokin’ babe.” Alek’s skin tightened as he posed his next question to Anton since he’d been there last night. “She’s alone? No roommate?” It didn’t sit right that he had to ask. That he didn’t know every fucking detail of her life. “No roommate. At your uncle’s suggestion, I had a quick look inside before she arrived. There was no evidence to suggest more than one occupant. The baby supplies were a surprise. Until now.” Maks nodded as he put his coffee down. “Her caring for children all day— I thought that suited her. Imagine the fathers of those kids when they get a load of the hot babysitter.” He raised his voice a few octaves. “‘Honey, can you pick junior up from daycare on your way home? I won’t have time.” He lowered his voice again, pretending to be the husband. “‘Uh, fuck yeah. Try and stop me, wife.’ Twenty bucks says dad leaves work early on those days so he can linger.” He nodded knowingly, proving once more what a large dick he was. “You’re imagining that now, aren’t you?” “Did Sydney really say yes when you asked her to marry you?” Alek muttered because he was imagining some horny husband eye-fucking the smokin’ babysitter. “No. She said ‘yes, please’.” Daycare. Why would Sacha have gone that route? Yes, she’d been mushy around babies just like every woman, but she’d never mentioned an interest in making a career out of it. Why hadn’t she returned to school to finish her degree? She’d wanted that so badly. Yeah, and he’d been the asshole who’d held her back. Why? Because he hadn’t wanted his much younger, spectacularly beautiful girlfriend associating with frat boys and football players out to fuck as much pussy as they could. Alek

had been gearing up to discuss her returning to classes after Christmas, but only if she would agree to have a Tarasov man on her. They never got there. “Who else knows you found her?” He motioned to Micha, who waved but didn’t look up from his paper. “Didn’t want anyone’s bad acting skills to kill my prep so I kept the circle small. Now that you’re up-to-date, you wanna go for a drive?” “Who’s there now?” “Grigori and Lucas,” Anton supplied. “If you want to take the day,” Maks said. “I know where she’s going to be tonight. That Women in Power conference Eva’s been all over this weekend is having their black-tie dinner. Seems Sheppard’s firm has a table booked and Justin has confirmed attendance with a date. A few other notable names on the guest list would be Fane, Moretti, Tarasov, and now Kirov, but the last was a late addition.” Alek cleaned up some spilled sugar granules and emptied the used grounds into the garbage. Did Maks seriously think he’d take the day? Was he fucked? And it was a damn relief to hear if he struck out this morning, he’d have another opportunity tonight. He took his phone out and called home to ask Samnang, their housekeeper, to make sure Alek’s tux was ready for him to swing by and pick up later. “I take it we’re going to show in full force tonight?” Maks said as he reached over the counter to rinse out his mug. Anticipation came knocking, overriding Alek’s irritation at being left in the dark. Now he just had to clear his head. He needed to approach Sacha with a gentle, apologetic, please-have-mercy-on-me hand, not the what-the-fuck-doyou-think-you’re-doing-with-him? one begging to be used right now. A spoon hit him in the chest before clattering to the counter. “Are you ignoring me, asshole?” Maks demanded with a trace of humor in his voice.

“Yes.” “Why?” “Because every time you talk I want to stab something. Let’s go.” What he wouldn’t give for a pair of earbuds. “Now I know why Vincente kept telling us to keep you away from him when he was going through that shit with Nika. Not because you’d purposely send him over the edge, but because you just can’t help yourself.” Micha and Anton were sniggering as they headed for the exit. Alek came around the island and got socked in the shoulder by a monster fist. “What if I promise to make only necessary comments and offer sage advice? If my warped opinion sneaks in, I give you permission to tell me to fuck off.” “That’s the problem. I can’t.” He met a pair of unusual silver eyes and found comfort in the deep bond he shared with his brother. “As fucked up as it is, I value that warped opinion and will seek it out when I can’t keep my own shit straight.” With an affectionate hair ruffle that annoyed the hell out of Alek, as it would any man, Maks jerked him in with an arm around his neck and kissed the side of his head. Idiot handled everything and everyone as if they were toys. And he wasn’t the sentimental type so he must have been touched by Alek’s claim. Or Sydney and the kids were rubbing off on him. He ruined the moment by talking as he donned his coat. “You’ll be tight once you see her. And if the attorney is there, I’ll make sure you don’t hurt him. Even I get that he’s an innocent in this sitch. Of course, you want to beat him down for what he’s doing and who he’s doing it with, especially with that fucking attitude of his. But he doesn’t deserve it. Much. Ah, hell. I’d want him dead, too. Shit.” He gave his head a shake. “Okay. Seriously. I’ll make sure you’re civil. Honestly, I will. Do my best, I mean.” Alek headed for the foyer, and for some strange reason, didn’t feel all that reassured by the half-assed guarantee.



♦ ♦ ♦ Neither Tanner, who was Angela’s son, or Olivia, the one-year-old girl Sacha was caring for this morning, paid any attention to her chatter, half of it in English, half in Russian. But the third occupant in the stroller didn’t disappoint. Every little while Lekzi, who was facing backward and hidden from everyone but Sacha by the canopy on her car seat, stretched her little face to offer her mother a smile that showed off her two tiny teeth popping up from her bottom gums. Her soft blonde hair was covered by a hat, her small body by a snowsuit. The only visible parts to any of the children were their faces. “Are you trying to charm mummy as I bore you with my nervous chatter?” Sacha whispered as she pulled the zipper down on her own padded coat. It was mild for early December. “I cannot help it. I keep expecting your papa to step out in front of me.” She navigated the stroller around a recycle bag that had fallen from a pile on the curb and refrained from looking back to see if her guard did the same. “But you know this.” Lekzi had woken just before six, and as they’d settled in the rocker with their mid-sections pressed together and the baby enjoying her breakfast, Sacha had unloaded, sharing about Alekzander’s reappearance in their lives. Guilt had consumed her when she’d spoken of getting rid of him as quickly as possible. Shame over her vindictive behavior had joined in to eat at her as it always did when speaking to her daughter about her father—something she did more than she should considering how she now felt about him. Finally, she’d had no choice but to voice the frightening possibility that now existed. She’d told Lekzi she might meet her papa one day after all. After she’d uttered the terrifying words, Sacha had quieted and tried to imagine what it would be like to share her child with the man who’d helped create her. At first, she’d tried to think in terms of not being the only woman to

ever go through something like this. So many other couples successfully coparented. Would it really be so terrible? To watch father and daughter fall in love with each other. To give Lekzi another person who would love and protect her with his very life. Because she knew Alekzander would. Would it be so awful to sit next to him in the school gymnasium and share in the joy of watching their only child perform in a primary choir? Or have someone to call so she could share things people who weren’t a child’s parent found so annoying? Would it not be a relief to know she could rely on someone if Lekzi got sick? Or if, God forbid, she did? That was one of her greatest fears. If something happened to her, who would take care of her daughter? As always, she’d forced the thought away as quickly as she could, and it wasn’t long before reality had intruded. Co-parenting Lekzi wouldn’t be about support and company. It would be about control and a lack of on her part. School events and dance recitals wouldn’t be enjoyable; they’d be painful and humiliating because Alekzander would likely sandwich himself between Sacha and his newest lover. How could she even think to subject her daughter to a constant stream of changing faces, none of them sticking around long enough to offer any normalcy or security? Or worse. How would Sacha ever live through having Alekzander sit next to her in a stuffy auditorium while he held a hand he’d slid an engagement ring on the night before. To later sit and listen to Lekzi share how wonderful her father’s wedding was, how wonderful her new stepmother was, how in love the newlyweds were. And all that was if Sacha was privileged enough to be allowed to remain in her daughter’s life once Alekzander learned the truth. She bit at her lips as they passed by storefronts, apartment buildings, and pedestrians. By the time she’d done her usual route, they’d gone eight blocks. Just enough to work off the extra slices of bacon she’d eaten at breakfast. She turned, and so as not to appear rude since Grigori was only doing his job, she

offered him a small smile. “You do not have to walk behind me,” she said because she just couldn’t ignore him anymore. “It is not as if I am unaware you are there.” “You will get used to me,” he responded in an accent even heavier than hers. He motioned her forward, but she didn’t move. She switched to Russian. “You have recently come from home?” His gaze moved around constantly. “Yes. One year ago.” “Have you been with Alekzander’s family all that time?” He briefly met her eyes but gave her no answer. “I was in New York only eight weeks when I met him. When is he coming?” she snuck in. “I have not been told.” She tried not to let her shoulders slump. “It was nice to see Vasily last night. He was always very kind to me. Do you know if he will be with Alekzander?” “I have not been told.” Her mouth went crooked. She was sure if she asked what his favorite food was he would say the same thing. “Well, it was lovely talking to you, Grigori. You have been very helpful in putting my mind at ease. Thank you.” She pushed on the handle and hadn’t gone more than a half a block when a group of guys her age pushed out of a pub she was surprised was open this early. They served lunch, so that explained it. The one with orange hair and an invasive stare caught her eye as she leaned forward to stop him from bumping into the stroller. “Oh, fuck me,” he said. “Sor— Well, damn.” He slapped the back of his hand on his friend’s chest, drawing his attention from something the third one was saying. Sacha simply pushed on and gritted her teeth when he skipped to stay even with her. “Hey, baby, you wanna—”

That was all he got out before Grigori’s big hand slammed down on his scruff. That meaty fist latched on and jerked him back. “Leave her be.” “What the hell are you, her owner? Get the fuck off, goof. She’s getting away.” Grigori spun the guy so that he hit the brick wall next to them face-first. The hard thunk sounded awful, but not nearly as awful as what his nose looked like when Grigori pulled him back to repeat the slam. “Did you not see the children in her care?” he growled as his free hand came up, his finger pointing from his extended arm. “Take one more step and you are next.” Sacha, who had a hand slapped over her mouth, took just enough time to see the two friends freeze in place before she got the children moving. She quickly passed by two older gentlemen sitting on a stoop. “It’s as good a morning as ever to learn better manners, miss. I’d shake your boyfriend’s hand, but I wouldn’t want him to eat me.” They guffawed as she hurried along, her face burning, the children babbling happily, completely clueless as to what had just taken place. “You do not travel this neighborhood again.” Sacha jumped and barely swallowed a shriek. Grigori was once more behind her. His expression was no longer murderous. He wasn’t even breathing heavy. “Why did you do that?” she whispered fiercely as she walked faster. “Because men like him need their brain rattled. I would not like to see how he would have approached you if you were alone and it was dark.” Sacha shuddered and was suddenly glad the Neanderthal was with her. “Thank you. And I thank you on behalf of the parents of my children. They would be grateful to know you possibly saved their babies from…that.” Your boss is one of those parents. “You do not thank me, Ms. Urusski.” “I am Sacha, and I just did.” She stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the

symbol to change. And for her heart rate to slow. They had crossed to the other side of the street before he spoke again. “Alek will be with Maksim, not Mr. Tarasov.” She looked up and watched Grigori look in every direction without making it obvious he was looking in every direction. He didn’t seem aware of her. “Thank you.” “You are welcome.” But he was. As they approached home, Sacha glanced into the opening between the panels closing Lekzi in and saw the zipper of her snowsuit was digging into the sensitive skin of her neck. Slowing, she reached in and pulled it down, noting those crystalline eyes Sacha was still able to look into every day were droopy and unfocused. Leaving her to her coming snooze, Sacha moved up the line to right Olivia’s hat and pull the little one’s mitten on more securely when she saw a portion of skin visible at her wrist. The little girl looked up at Sacha and showed off a mouthful of teeth when she grinned. “Another one has come up?” she gasped in mock surprise as she tickled the one-year-old behind the ear. “You will be doing toothpaste adds in no time.” She stepped back behind the stroller and pushed to gain speed— Her right foot nearly slid out from under her as she jerked to a complete stop. “Ah, there they are,” Grigori said as if it was a good thing. “It seems your wait is over.”

EIGHT Had Sacha been alone, she knew she’d have whimpered out loud. In fear or appreciation, she wasn’t…okay, it would be in both because she was smart and a masochist. Wearing a black overcoat over his suit, Alekzander stood thirty feet ahead, right in the middle of the sidewalk. He had his hands clasped behind his back. His head was bowed slightly. And his focus was centered directly on her. She felt the pull immediately. The one she wanted to deny having felt last night but couldn’t. It was that invisible draw that had always been between them. Even from this far away she experienced the power he emanated, the sex, the danger. A buzz shot through her when he brought his hands around and buried them in the pockets of his coat as he started toward her. She wanted to turn and run but couldn’t because of the children. One of which is his! She tore her eyes from the familiarity of that confident walk—no, he didn’t walk, he prowled—to see her daughter was asleep. But would she stay that way now that the lulling movement of the stroller had stopped? Quickly, hands trembling, Sacha pulled the panel further down and tucked the blanket up so that Lekzi was nearly covered. All Sacha could see were two closed eyes and a button nose. Her other two charges happily kicked their legs and continued chatting to each other, for which she was grateful. Had they been fussing or crying she mostly likely would have fallen to her knees and joined them. She heard his footfalls as he reached her, and then saw the polished Italian leather of the same type of shoe she’d tripped over countless times when entering their apartment. He’d had a terrible habit of taking them off the moment he walked through the door. When I walk into our home, I’m too distracted by

what’s in it to pay much attention to where I leave my shoes. Naturally, she’d melted at his response to her complaint and had never mentioned it again. In fact, stumbling over them from then on had always given her a warm feeling inside. There was no warmth in her now. Only fear, dread, animosity, and…other stuff. She braced herself, fighting for calm, and raised her eyes. It was as if someone reached into her chest and squeezed her heart with all their might. For the first time in sixteen months, in the cold light of day, Sacha was looking directly into the face of the man she’d fallen in love with at first glance. The man she’d thought was her soulmate. The one she’d thought she would spend the rest of her life with. But no. He’d had other plans. And those plans hadn’t included her. The reminder had her skin shrinking. And pain, so much pain shook her as she took in the strong jaw and icy eyes, his dark blonde hair falling boyishly over his forehead. It was now longer than she ever remembered him wearing it. He looked like a rake. A playboy. Which he was, she reminded herself. “Good morning, Sacha,” “Good morning, Alekzander,” she returned, hating him. Hating what he made her feel. Hating what he’d done to them. Hating him because she still felt a desperate need to reach out and touch him. She wanted to part his expensive coat and burrow into his chest the way she used to. She wanted to feel secure and treasured, not off-kilter and miserable. He stepped closer, his gaze roving her face. “Jesus Christ.” His arm moved, and then relaxed as if he’d thought better of taking his hand from his pocket. “Daylight does for you the opposite of what it does for most of us.” Oh, why did he continue reverting to Russian? In that deep bass, their language had always weakened her knees. It was no different now. She remained silent, hoping he would say his piece and go away. “Were you bringing the children inside?” She nodded.

“Would you let me accompany you?” “No. You can say what you came to say right here.” “I’m afraid I can’t. I’d like to speak with you in private. Since you had the night as a reprieve, I don’t think a few minutes of your time is asking too much.” Even though apologetic, there was no room for argument in his tone. His refusal to simply get this over with was a statement delivered, and he obviously expected the result he demanded. As was his way. Well, she would not be striving to please him this day. Gripping the handle as if it were a lifeline, she pushed the stroller forward. It hit something, and thinking it was a stone, she pulled back and tried again only to be thwarted. She looked down impatiently to see the toe of Alekzander’s shoe jammed under one of the middle wheels. “Excuse me.” “I need you in private, Sacha.” A swift breath flew through her lips as her dirty mind turned that into something sexual. She tried to maneuver around his foot as anxiety clawed at her back. She couldn’t let him do this to her. Could he see she still wanted him? What if Lekzi woke and began crying? What if he saw her? Would he recognize her as his own? I’m not ready for this! “What are you afraid of?” The curious note in his voice had her snapping, “Nothing. After all this time, I just do not see the point in listening to anything you have to say.” She leveled him with a look she hoped was daunting. “Please move.” He stepped over so that he was completely blocking her way. Guess she had to work on her daunt. “Look at me.” Her eyes flew to his without her permission. His breath caught audibly. Because she’d obeyed? Yes. She was sure it must be quite a rush to have a puppet. Looking away, infuriated by that, she shifted her gaze to look over his

shoulder. Grigori was talking with Maksim and Anton, the man from last night. “Was it Maksim who found me?” she asked, thinking the man’s arrogance in his ability to locate anyone was justified. She wanted to kick him. “Yes.” “Why?” “Because I asked him to.” “Why?” she repeated. “Because after searching for you since not long after you left me, I ran out of places to look. Besides, he’s better at it than I am.” That made her blink. In horror. How could they not have come across her name in the hospital records she knew they must have checked? Then again, they wouldn’t have searched the maternity ward. “At the risk of sounding like a child, I will ask you again. Why? Why do you want to speak with me? Did I take something from the apartment when I left that I should not have?” She chanced a look, and her fingers tightened involuntarily when his expression lost some of its tension. The corner of his lip tipped up, putting that sexy grove in his cheek that only showed when he was amused. “As a matter of fact, you did take something with you when you left,” he murmured. “And I’ve come to get it back.” “I packed only a few things. I could not have taken anything of yours. I would not have,” she insisted. “You did. And it’s something I’ve realized I can’t live without.” He looked around, nodding to an older gentleman as he walked by them. “Come on, Sacha. Let’s take this inside?” No! she screeched silently. Alekzander’s head went down, and her hand came up to settle on her throat. He was smiling, fully and without reservation. Oh, God. So beautiful. She followed his gaze to see Tanner had a fistful of his pants and was jerking on the expensive material.

“Hey, buddy. Sorry for holding you up.” He spoke to the nine-month-old with ease. Moving quickly, Sacha bent and removed the chubby hand. She then made the mistake of smoothing out the material before she realized by doing so she was also caressing the firm muscle of Alekzander’s thigh. She jerked her hand back and straightened with a snap, her fingers tingling. When she met his eyes, there was a pale flame staring down at her. Her head went back and forth in a slow shake of denial, meant for both of them. “I cannot…I must…” “Do all of the babies you care for live in your building?” he asked, interrupting her stuttering. She followed his gaze to the three-story structure. The dark brick had seen better days, so too had the air-conditioning units and the zig-zag that was a fire escape she’d be leery of using. Across the street was a fenced in basketball court hugging up to a high school that was normally teeming with kids, during school hours or not. It was quiet today but for a group of boys hanging around smoking. Was Alekzander judging where she’d ended up? Finding it lacking? Of course, he was. How could he not, considering what he was used to? He wasn’t a snob, but this was very far from the Flatiron District in Manhattan. “How do you know I care for—?” She stopped and glared at Maksim, who was tapping into his phone, no doubt invading someone else’s privacy. “Your friend is in need of a hobby.” “He’s found one,” Alekzander returned with a mild humor. “Her name is Sydney.” She tried not to roll her eyes. “How nice. I am sure she will keep him occupied for the evening. Maybe two, if she is very special.” She remembered the man’s penchant for variety. She also remembered him coming to their apartment one evening with two women on his arms. He’d never been fickle, or particularly secretive about his endeavors, and he’d always gotten a kick out of making Sacha blush.

“Sydney is different. We were out celebrating their engagement last night when you saw us.” That took her aback. “Oh. I am sorry. I meant no disrespect.” “I know. It’s not like we didn’t know who Maks was before he met her. She has a twelve-year-old boy, and they’re putting the wheels in motion to adopt Sydney’s deceased friend’s daughter.” He nodded toward his friend. “Family man.” “How wonderful for them,” she said dutifully, only half meaning it. She hoped the womanizer was truly in love. How tragic if Sydney were to go through what Sacha had gone through. Even worse would be if those children were hurt in the process. “Gabriel was married last summer,” Alekzander supplied then. “To my cousin.” She reared back. “Your cousin? Gabriel is gay?” Now that she found shocking! “But Sergei is married. Er, well, I suppose he could have left Renee…” She stopped when Alekzander shook his head hard, his expression pained. “No, Christ, no. Not Sergei. And Gabriel isn’t gay,” he said in a funny voice. He hesitated for a brief moment, as if considering his words, then he went on. “Last summer, my uncle shared with us that he has a daughter. Her name is Eva. She’s twenty-five. Vasily left her and her mother when Eva was an infant. They lived in Seattle until…” “Until…?” She leaned in unthinkingly, her curiosity peaked when it shouldn’t have been. “Eva’s mother was killed.” “Oh, no.” “The Baikovs claimed responsibility. It seems they found out about her through someone in our organization.” Her fingers came up to cover her mouth. The hair on her nape rose, and she didn’t even have anything to do with the situation. But she could imagine the

severe consequences paid for crossing the Vasily in such a way. “Your uncle must have been very angry.” She dropped her hand when her words came out muffled. Why was he speaking so openly about this with her? she wondered in a far corner of her mind. “You could say that. He brought Gabriel in to watch over Eva while he followed the ones responsible back to Russia.” He didn’t say anything more, but she could only imagine what the outcome had been. And call her evil, but she would be the last one to condemn the man for his actions. All she had to do was put herself in his place. Had her parents not died in an accident, had someone killed them, she would have wanted to seek revenge, too. “And the two fell in love?” she found herself asking. Alek smiled. “They’re expecting a son in March.” She smiled back because she’d have done the same with anyone when they told her of a happy ending. Even though she hadn’t had the chance to know Gabriel as well as she’d gotten to know Vincente and Maksim—because Gabriel had lived in Seattle while she and Alekzander had been together—she’d spoken to him over the phone many times when he’d called the apartment. She’d liked him. “One I think you might appreciate most; Vincente found someone.” Again, as she’d have done with Justin or Angela, she unthinkingly reached out to touch his forearm. Vincente had always held a special place in her heart. “Really? What is she like? Oh, I hope she is a decent person. He deserves someone nice.” After a few seconds, she became aware Alekzander wasn’t answering her. His attention slowly went from her hand on his arm to her face, and then back again. The softness that came over his expression and the blaze of approval in his eyes had her withdrawing. She came to her senses with a snap. What was she doing standing here reminiscing as though they were long lost friends who just

happened to meet up by accident? He was telling her about his dangerous, criminal friends and their no doubt equally criminal girlfriends— That wasn’t fair. She was no criminal, and she was this man’s girlfriend for nearly a year. Okay. So the girls were innocent pawns, just as she was. One of them was having a son. She’d had a daughter. Alekzander’s daughter. Tell him, a quiet voice in the back of her mind implored. She couldn’t. He has a right to know his child. Then he would take Lekzi and Sacha would be left alone again. Her little family gone. She would have no one. She reached in and covered the baby as much as she could without impeding her air intake, then she forced herself to remember how it had felt to see Alekzander with that woman. She remembered how she felt going down in the elevator, how she’d barely been able to breathe, and walking, shamed and humiliated, past the security guards in the lobby of the building because they’d known what she’d just walked in on. Her heart cemented in her chest. “Nika is a special woman who’s been through a horrible time.” Alekzander’s tone made it clear he’d noted the change in her. “She and Vincente are healing each other.” “I am truly happy for him. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go.” “Not yet.” He looked around. “Give me ten more minutes.” Her eyes widened. “No. We have spoken, as you wished. That is enough.” “We haven’t spoken about anything important. We need privacy to do that.” “I am sorry, but, no.” “Why?” It was his turn to ask. “Because I do not want you in my home,” she said bluntly. And then felt bad for it. Especially when he accepted the rudeness as though he was deserving

of it. Which he was. Sort of. Was anyone truly deserving of someone else’s contempt? They all made mistakes. They all hurt each other, some deliberately, some not. Ugh. What was she thinking? Look at what you’re doing to him. What you’re keeping from him. “That’s understandable,” he murmured, looking around again. He seemed to be thinking hard. Guilt wrapped her in its sticky web. This wasn’t right. What she was doing… She glanced down and saw Alekzander’s eyes staring up at her from the stroller. Oh, God. Her throat closed up. His baby. Having him right in front of her was making it impossible for her to disregard what she’d stolen from him. Months of his child’s life. All because she was bitter and more malicious than she ever would have dreamed she could be. Because of his actions! her pride snarled in her defense. He did this. Did he felt guilty fucking that woman in front of you? He didn’t even push her away or call out for you to wait so he could offer an explanation. No. He just continued fucking her. She felt ill at the reminder. Her cell chimed in her pocket and, giving her throbbing head a break, she withdrew it to see Justin’s number. She wanted to force a smile, make it wider than it would have been had Alekzander not been watching her, but she just couldn’t. “Excuse me,” she said, and then forced herself to add, “I do not want to miss this.” Engaging the call, she put the phone to her ear and turned away a little but made sure to speak loudly enough that he would hear. “Hello?” “Good morning. Tell me I’m not interrupting your walk with the little people.” “I am outside,” she admitted, grateful for Justin’s friendly, uncomplicated tone. “But you are not interrupting,” she clipped on as she held back tears.

“Excellent. I was calling to tell you I’m picking you up a little earlier tonight than we agreed on. I already spoke to Angela, and she said it’s no problem. Steve is working late so she’ll be on her own anyway and was glad for something to occupy the time. Will six-thirty be okay?” It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about. The dinner. The one she’d agreed to attend with him when he’d asked a couple of weeks ago. “Er, yes. That will be fine.” “You forgot. Not surprised. I had planned to remind you last night but with all the give-me-back-my-woman drama it slipped my mind.” “Justin,” she chastised in disapproval. That’s when she saw Alekzander’s body stiffen. “Sorry. The more I think about it, the more interesting I find the situation. So, are we still on? If you’re not up for it, I’ll understand.” “No. I am up for it.” It would keep her occupied. “That leaves me plenty of time to get ready. How should I dress?” “It’s black-tie. Is that doable for you?” “Dewable…?” She tightened her fingers around her phone. Alekzander’s look was growing darker by the second. He’d always been possessive of her. Then again, maybe he was that way with all his women. “Do you have a formal dress?” Justin elaborated with a smile in his voice. “Oh, yes. Of course. I suppose black-tie is ‘doable’.” “I was hoping you’d say that. I’m heading to a lunch meeting right now, but I’ll see you in a few hours. I’ll tell you what Peggy said about your case tonight, okay?” “Okay,” she said weakly. She didn’t want to have a case. “See you then.” As she hung up and pushed her phone back into the pocket of her jacket, she raised her eyes just in time to see a vicious expression drop from Alekzander’s face. “Sheppard?” With her stomach rolling with nerves, she nodded. “Yes.”

“What is he to you, Sacha?” Not expecting him to be so forthright, she scrambled. How badly did she want to throw Justin in his face. She wished she could gush and brag about how in love she was with her lawyer boyfriend. Tell Alekzander all the many ways Justin made her happy. But more than that, she wished Alekzander was still in love with her. If she knew for sure, she could invite him over one evening and have him walk in on her and Justin having sex. Eye-for-an-eye. He would understand that concept. Too bad Justin was more likely to want Alekzander than her, and she was too much of a lady to have sex with someone she didn’t love. If she could have, would she then feel vindicated? Or would she just feel like a whore? “Are you going to answer me?” She rubbed her palm across the tip of her nose when it began to sting from the urge she felt to bawl her head off. “Sacha?” She turned at the sound of her name coming from behind and saw Olivia’s father step onto the curb. Confused, she looked at her watch. “You’re good,” Pastor David said with the wide smile that distracted many of the women in his church during his Sunday service. He looked carefully between Sacha and her unwanted guest. “It’s me who’s early. Patrice sent me off when I started getting on her nerves.” He winked as he teased about his highstrung wife. “I told her I didn’t mind leaving her to come and spend some quality time with my beautiful girl.” A low chuff of air came from Alekzander as the pastor approached. He bypassed Sacha with a touch to her shoulder and moved on to unbuckle and lift his daughter into his arms. Sensing an opportunity, Sacha took it. “Well, it was nice seeing you again, Alekzander,” she lied. “But I must be going.” He was watching the father and daughter. Sacha’s heart wrenched in her

chest. Was that longing in his eyes? “Enjoy your day,” she croaked as she motioned Pastor David forward so Alekzander would have no choice but to step aside. “If you would come inside, I will get Olivia’s bag.” She pushed the stroller into motion and couldn’t help but glance up from under her lashes, her body tingling in awareness as she came within inches of Alekzander’s solid frame. “Opportunistic little thing,” he murmured as she passed by. The husky note in his voice slid down her spine to tickle her tailbone. Feeling triumphant, and excited in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time, she couldn’t stop herself from tipping her head and squinting her eyes in a taunting, childish manner. She didn’t think for a moment he was going to just go away. Not yet. That wasn’t who he was. And, God help her, as dangerous as that was, and as stupid as it made her, Sacha was happy for that.

NINE As Alek’s eyes narrowed on his skittish angel, he smiled. He’d had her there for a minute. As he’d talked about the boys, her interest hadn’t been forced or merely polite. She’d been engaged. She’d reached out and touched him without thought. Her eyes had danced with genuine happiness when he’d told her about Vincente. And had grown wide in shock when she’d misunderstood about Gabriel. He’d been about to tell her Renee and Evan were gone but hadn’t wanted to do so out in the open. His satisfaction melted away when he acknowledged that she may have responded to general conversation, but the minute it became personal the shutters had come down hard. Which was expected. He had to get her alone, he thought as he strolled over to Maks and Anton. Grigori was still there. “Tell him,” Maks said to Grigori. “Ms. Urusski was approached by a man who fell out of a pub with two others. He locked onto her despite the children and began following her. I did not wait for him to touch her before I introduced his face to some bricks. There were witnesses, and she was shaken. I recommended she avoid that neighborhood from now on.” Alek looked to the doors Sacha had disappeared through with the toohandsome father of one of her charges who Alek had thought had come to spend time with his beautiful girl until the guy had picked up his daughter. All Alek could think was the guy had to be one of Maks’s enamored fathers. “Did you notice any video being taken? Photos?” “No. There was not enough time.” “Did you hurt the guy?” Disrespectful fucking idiot to have targeted a

woman pushing a stroller. “Yes.” Alek put out his hand and vowed Sacha wouldn’t be on her own again. Not even if she was walking through the produce section at the grocery store. “Well done,” he praised, and after a firm shake, Grigori went off to join Lucas at the door. Some definite advantages to having the boys around. “We off?” Maks asked. “No. Just taking a break. Let’s circle the block and get the truck out of sight.” They climbed in with Micha and Anton. “You’re on that thing more than ever,” Alek commented, indicating the phone Maks was pulling out of his pocket because it was vibrating. “Got some information. Finally.” “What is it?” “Nothing we’re supposed to be aware of.” With his and Vasily’s conversation from last night ringing in his ears, Alek kicked Maks’s Di Bianco and was rewarded with a glare. “Don’t scuff my shit, brother. You know I hate that.” Maks was more of a clothes horse as Alek. They annoyed the hell out of Gabriel and Vincente. “I’ll take a Sharpie to the ugly things if you don’t start talking.” “Better than those girlie Louboutins in your closet.” “I only wear them with my tux. Which I’ll be doing tonight, it seems.” Maks’s brow went up, and he nodded once as he dialed a number that rang over the Bluetooth. “If you ask me what I’m wearing, I’ll hang up on you,” Sydney said on answering. Her Australian accent was as pretty as she was. Maks chuckled. “Tell Samnang he’s on duty tonight. I need a date, and you’re it.” “Wow. Have I told you lately how that romantic streak of yours makes me

tingle? No? That’s because I haven’t experienced it yet. Where are we going?” Maks smirked at his woman’s attitude. “Black-tie event.” “You’re oh-for-two, Russia. Will I know anyone? Or will I just be there to make you look good?” “You’ll be there to make me look good. But as an added incentive, you’ll get to meet, or at least see, Sacha.” “For real? I’ll be able to come home and tell the girls she really does exist? Vincente said she’s classy like Grace Kelly but with Beyoncé’s body.” “Quiet now. You’re making Alek blush.” “Oops. Hey, Alek. You’re taking your elusive lady out tonight?” “No. But with any luck I’ll be bringing her home,” he muttered. After Maks had hung up, Alek got them back on topic. “Tell me about this information.” “I’m not supposed to know about it.” Yeah. It had to do with the mole. “Then why do you?” “Because my services are in demand.” Said with so much arrogance it almost clouded the interior of the Hummer. “Pull over here, Micha,” Alek said when they were once more a half a block away from Sacha’s building. He looked at Maks and waited. “Our rat is making calls from Brighton Beach and Nassau County.” Alek refrained from nodding. “How do you know that?” “Whether Vasily went to him or he took it upon himself to get involved, Lucian’s IT wizard called a more talented wizard who not that long ago developed a program to trace heavily re-routed calls.” He sprawled out and threw his arm across the back of the seat. “Just call me Oz.” Alek grinned. “That’s fucked up.” “Yeah. So is this cocksucker who’s moving in on us. Did your uncle tell you why he won’t let me at it?” “He’s afraid you’ll do to our mole what you did to Morales. This guy needs to suffer even more than the Mexican should have.”

“See? I get that. Why didn’t Vasily just say so?” “Because he likes to baby you.” “Me?” “Us.” “That’s more like it. Speaking of Morales; did I tell you Luiz has gotten in touch twice now asking about Elli? Fucker had the balls to request a meet with her. Syd went ape-shit.” “I’ll bet she did. What are you going to do? He is Elli’s family.” Maks’s face went granite hard. “We’re her family. She’s mine now, and if that fucking prick thinks I’m going to allow a little girl anywhere near a man who wanted to punish my Aussie by raping her for a couple of weeks, he’s using too much of his own product.” Supportive grunts filled the SUV. Seemed Luiz Morales was going to have to be satisfied with the family he had because he wasn’t getting anywhere near Maksim’s.

♦ ♦ ♦ Ten minutes later, Alek was reaching for the door handle as he watched Sacha’s client drive away with his little girl. “Shoot me a text if you hit some pillows. I’ll come back later to pick you up,” Maks said as he worked his phone. Alek wished. “I can’t see any pillow hitting going down. Not unless it’s one she decides to slam me in the face with.” His feet hit the sidewalk. “Bite it and consider it foreplay.” He shut the door and took only a cursory glance around once he made it inside the building, noting the cleanliness of the hallway couldn’t hide the wear and tear. He made a mental note to have someone come in to do a quick switch when he heard the hollow sound his knock made on Sacha’s door.

He braced himself when the security chain went, but he was in no way prepared for the sight that greeted him when the flimsy wood was pulled out of the way. Curves. The shapeless winter coat that had reached below her knees was gone, and utter perfection was exposed to his ravenous gaze. He stared, because, damn. A black sleeveless shirt clung to full, jaw-dropping breasts and an absurdly small waist while the beautiful swell of her hips was accentuated by jeans she made work despite the frayed tears he normally found unattractive. Not on her. Not when they offered him flashes of smooth, creamy skin and were rolled at the cuff to show off the high-heeled boots he’d noticed outside. They were black leather and covered what he knew to be slender ankles. Yeah, she made the outfit work all right. Stylish, subtle, stunning. From her head to her toes she was a feminine work of art. There should be some way to get the message across to women that this was what they should look like. She wasn’t thin and hard. She was full and soft; temptation itself. Her supple thighs used to have him regressing to a caveman mentality he should have been put away for. Jesus Christ, he wanted to devour her, to bury himself in her—face first, then tongue, and then his cock. The urge was crippling and undeniable, and nothing short of catastrophic that he had to stand there and pretend he’d be satisfied with a reluctant tell-me-your-story-and-maybe-I’ll-forgive-you. “Are you finished, Alekzander?” He looked up from a navel he wished his face was pressed against and was as honest with her as he could be without flashing the solid erection he was now sporting. “Fuck no. But I’ll set it aside for now and pretend I’m a normal, civilized man. May I come in?” Into your body? Where I’ll stay for days? “If I say no?” He shrugged. “Then I’ll talk very loud through your door.” Her mouth compressed into a thin line. “You would not do that.”

He held her eyes. “You’d be horrified at what I would do for you.” Her lips parted on a soft breath that was the exact sound she used to make the moment he slid inside her. His entire groin throbbed. He needed this one back in his bed. On him. Under him. Next to him. All over him, for days on end. He needed her sitting across from him at breakfast. He needed her showing up at his office, self-consciously asking if she could take him out for lunch. He needed to come home at the end of the day, turn her away from whatever she’d decided to prepare him for dinner, and just hold her; draw comfort from that gentle way she used to sift her long fingers through his hair. His eyes narrowed, his heart slamming hard when he saw a flash of hunger skip across her face. Aaand then her thoughts got in the way, and her expression turned to cement. Fuck. “A few minutes,” he said, hiding his frustration. “That’s all I need.” “Then you will leave?” For now. “Yes. You have my word.” She stepped back and silently waved him into her home. Despite the seemingly polite gesture, her eyes now blazed with a rancid emotion he hoped to kill dead in these minutes she was granting him. Yes, he thought as the scent in the air filled his nostrils. Babies. He looked around. His first impression was that the unit was small and clean. Lonely and worn was his second. And almost barren. Most of the surfaces were empty as if she hadn’t wanted to bother with knick-knacks or framed pictures. Not Sacha. She enjoyed those sorts of things and had always had pretty little trinkets scattered all over their apartment. He relaxed slightly. Maybe Sheppard didn’t take her places where she could indulge her harmless habit. Maybe the asshole didn’t see things throughout his day—a figurine of a couple dancing, or a delicately handcrafted carousel painted in pastels with ribbons hanging from it—and pick them up, hoping to please her when he saw her next.

As Alek looked around, another thing registered. Sheppard’s stamp was nowhere. Two years ago, it had taken Alek less than a week for his presence to be noted in her tiny bachelor apartment in Brighton Beach. Among other things, he’d left shaving supplies, a change of clothes, and a secretly stashed weapon Sacha hadn’t been aware of. If she hadn’t spent the night at his place, he usually ended up joining her in her bed in the wee hours. Not once had she turned him away. He could have continued his tour without moving away from where she’d closed the door behind him. He moved anyway. Wandering over, he glanced at the table that held an array of junk mail and a stack of papers that had Yale University stamped in the corner. There was the open course Maks had mentioned. Another step and he was in front of three doors. One led to a broomcloset-sized bathroom, another to a bedroom that he peered into. It was relatively empty, had bare walls, a small desk—photo of her parents in ballroom garb was front and center—a playpen, and two chairs. “We can speak over here. There is no need for you to invade my privacy completely.” He didn’t push his luck by opening the third door, her bedroom, presumably. One that must house a crib because the smallest charge was missing. The one that had been nearest her in the stroller. The boy that was left was chattering away in a gated play area shaped like an octagon that took up most of the living room. As Alek pulled his gloves off one finger at a time, he approached her. For her sake, he stopped with the sofa between them. “I never did apologize for the presence outside.” “You do not have to. Just take them with you when you go and respectfully ask your uncle not to send them again.” Well, that was direct. More direct than he was used to with her. And it seemed as though he was going to have to keep his coat on a little longer to hide

what the fire crackling in her eyes was doing to his softening cock. “How did you know Vasily sent them?” “Anton mentioned it last night.” Huh. Anton needed to keep his mouth shut. “Getting to know the boys, Sacha?” he drawled as he shoved his gloves in his pocket. He spied a snow globe housing the Staten Island Ferry sitting on the window sill next to a plant. She blanched. “Certainly not.” “Good. That wouldn’t be wise on your part, or theirs.” The idea she was getting friendly with her protection killed his hard-on dead, so he took off his coat and threw it over the back of the sofa. “Where are all your things?” “Pardon?” She came over and very deliberately picked his coat up. She handed it to him. “I did not invite you to get comfortable.” He had to work not to smile as he put his arm out. Mmm. He liked her like this. She laid the soft fabric over it and moved away. “Your things.” He waved his hand around. “Your carousels and dancers. Your parents’ trophies. The photographs you have of them.” Pain moved swiftly through her eyes and she just looked at him with that slightly accusatory air surrounding her. She wasn’t going to answer him. He offered her a gentle smile. “I never would have guessed my docile, subservient angel capable of an anger so intense it practically singes my eyebrows from across the room.” Her cheeks went pink, and after her hands curled into small fists, she rounded a scratched coffee table and came right up to him, tipping her head back so she could hold his gaze. The glare from the overhead light in the kitchen shimmered off her hair as it slipped from her shoulder, and those tipped-up-atthe-corner eyes burned. In Russian, her voice silky but cold, she said, “And I never would have guessed my passionate, attentive boyfriend capable of a betrayal so evil it practically tore out my heart from across the room. Say what you came here to say, Alekzander, and then get out.”

TEN A long-suffering sigh pushed from Sergei’s lungs as he looked across the street. “No sense of self-preservation,” he muttered. “She has a child. Why would she invite him into their home?” “Dollars signs blind them every time,” his partner said from where he sat at a desk in the empty classroom. The idiot was carving something into the surface as if he were a delinquent student. Turning from the window, and the view of a three-story walk-up opposite the closed school they’d entered illegally, Sergei leaned on the teacher’s desk. He glanced at a test sheet. Fifth grade English. As memories of helping Evan with long division came, he felt molten steel skewer that small area of his heart that still functioned normally. The rest was black and charred from the fires that raged. “If Alek does not leave within a few minutes, that can only mean they are working things out, and I will have to follow through with plan B.” Leaving the desk behind, he went and picked up a yardstick from the base of the chalkboard as he glanced out the window again. Anton had joined Grigori and Lucas, and the three were standing to the side of the doors, their watchful eyes posing one large but expected inconvenience. When would Sacha tell Alek about their daughter? Maybe she was doing that right now. If so, Sergei’s chance to get her alone had just gone up in smoke. Because once Alek and Vasily became aware of her, the security detail assigned to that infant, and in effect, her mother, would be difficult to penetrate. Difficult, but not impossible. “You hear anything about why your cousin was given his own guard?” Reynard asked. “No. Nothing was said about it.” Anton being assigned to Alek could only

mean one thing. An announcement was coming. His uncle would appoint his first Sovietnik; the most trusted individual to the Pakhan of an organization. With Alek being Vasily’s protégé, the choice made sense. But was insignificant in the long run because when Sergei was through with them, titles and appointments would mean nothing. Reynard stood, and startled Sergei by clapping his hands. “You decided on a plan? Stakeouts bore the fuck out of me. You wanna run the piece of ass off or kill her? And what about the kid?” Sergei’s teeth mashed together. Sacha Urusski was much more than a piece of ass to Alek, but he wasn’t about to argue that point with someone who could never understand that. “I would rather not harm them, but…” Another glance out the window. Everyone was still in their place right down to the Hummer on the street. Damn it. The two were likely having sex. Which meant she was cheating on her current boyfriend? He was having a hard time accepting that. It didn’t fit with the Sacha he’d known. Maybe Alek was confused on that point, and the boyfriend didn’t exist. “But we probably will?” A hopeful note rang out in Reynard’s voice. Sergei leveled a fiercely disapproving look at the disgusting moron he was forced to work with. When the time came, he would happily pierce this man’s empty chest with a couple of bullets. “Probably,” he grudgingly admitted. “But at this point, two more casualties will not make that much of a difference.” Reynard went and leaned a shoulder into the wall and stared out the window. “Betcha he’s fuckin’ her. Wonder what she’s like? Looks soft. Or maybe she’s on her knees. That mouth of hers looks like it could suck a mean dick. Think she’s a whore behind closed doors? The quiet ones usua—” The crude ramblings cut off when the tip of Sergei’s blade found its way beneath the flapping jaw. “Shut your disrespectful mouth, you piece of shit. She is a mother; an innocent girl who came to America to find a good life, and instead found Alek. She deserves your sympathy, not your disparaging assumptions about what she

does with the man she is unfortunate enough to love.” He pushed until the skin broke and a bead of blood trailed down the glinting blade. He pictured giving it a good shove. “Fuck, man. Calm your tits.” The moment the knife left Reynard’s skin, he was pushing Sergei’s arm away. “You touchy fuckers. What is it with you idiots and all this respect you offer these bitches who’re probably only in it for the cash? I met this one chick at Rapture the other night. Didn’t want fuck all to do with me until I told her I work for Maks. Then the bitch’s legs were spreading right there at the fucking booth. I swear…” Tuning out the noise, Sergei went for the door and prayed Sacha was on birth control. If there was one thing the world didn’t need, it was another Tarasov.

♦ ♦ ♦ Wrecked. The pain that came through in Sacha’s voice as she spoke of what he’d done to her absolutely wrecked Alek. “I didn’t do it,” he said hoarsely, relieved to admit the truth after all this time. “What you saw that night in my office was fabricated.” Her fragile jaw tightened and she looked around, taking a minute before she said, “Last night, when I walked into that restaurant, did you see Justin kiss me?” Storm clouds swept in to blacken his mood. How could she so carelessly toss that in his face? Sheppard’s kiss had been tender and genuine. What Sacha had seen in Alek’s office couldn’t have been further from something honest and real had he and Maks’s dancer been paper cut-outs. “Yes, Sacha. I saw him put his hands on you, and I watched his mouth come into contact with your skin. What about it?” Her smile was quick and didn’t reach her eyes, but her condescension

reached his fucking ears. “He did not do it. What you saw was fabricated.” Well, holy fuck. He took a slow step back. Couldn’t fucking stand that tone. Hated when someone used it with him. Her? Yeah, it was worse. He roamed the small room, each step causing the parquet flooring to shift and creak. He didn’t stop until he’d once more placed that goddamn sofa between them. Drawing in a slow breath that sounded like a snake hissing as it passed through his teeth, he couldn’t help but think the little guy’s jabbering coming from the corner didn’t fit with the tension now hanging in the air. He concentrated on it and allowed it to bring him down. He had to get a grip. He shouldn’t have to work so hard to control this. He was supposed to be the cultured one in their group. Gabriel was the leader, Vincente the muscle, Maksim the brains, and Alek used to be the gentleman his father and uncle had raised him to be. The problem was, he didn’t feel gentile. He felt raw and wounded, and so far into defense mode it was disturbing. His time spent without her had done something to him, changed him. Made him think in ways he would never have before. Made him feel things he shouldn’t. Dark, ominous things more suited to Maks or Vincente’s mind than his own. “I will caution you to think before using that tone with me again.” She made an indifferent sound that grated on his nerves like fine sandpaper on an open wound. He ignored it and studied this courageous little soul for a moment. She had changed. Toughened up. Because of what he’d done to her? Never before would she have given him lip like this. Too often she’d been an agreeable little princess whose favorite expression had been Whatever you like, Alekzander. She was the only person aside from his mother who’d ever used his full name. Even in the midst of an orgasm she’d extended those four syllables in a way that soon had him joining her. “You probably enjoy having Sheppard to throw in my face, hmm?” He got a brief but clear view of how much she didn’t enjoy it when her composure slipped to reveal her remorse before she hid it again. A small line

formed between her brows as she rubbed at her nose with her palm in that way she’d always done just before they’d argued. God, he missed that little rub. “How did you meet him?” The question slipped from him before he could catch it. He didn’t expect an answer, so he was surprised when he got one. “His friend lives upstairs. I care for Steve and Angela’s son.” She pointed to the playpen, and then went over to gather a small pile of toys that had been thrown over to their side of the barrier. The smile she flashed at the little guy inappropriately hit Alek right behind the zipper. “Cozy little fucking family you’ve found,” he muttered under his breath. “What is he to you, Sacha?” “He is my charge.” She petted the boy’s dark head. “I have known him since he was born.” Alek’s heart melted a little. “Not him, angel. I’m asking about the asshole I met last night.” She glared at him. “Justin is not an asshole,” she said sharply. “He is a wonderful man. And what he is to me is not your concern. Is this what you needed privacy to speak with me about?” Her heated defense had his muscles quivering, and as he eyed the door, he was very conscious of his gun under his arm. If he stuck around long enough, would Sheppard show up? Eventually, yes, to take Sacha to the dinner tonight. Did he plan on arriving early so they could have some private time before going out? Tipping his head to the side; first right, and then left, Alek stretched his neck out. It was on the tip of his tongue to come clean at that moment. But the shit banging around in his skull wouldn’t let him drop this. “I want you to tell me what he is to you.” Her fragile shoulder went up in a careless shrug that said we didn’t always get what we wanted. That had his jaws coming together in a slow grind he was surprised didn’t cause his mouth to fill with dust.

“Tell me what he is to you.” How often did they have sex? The thought sent pain and fury screaming through him. “It makes no diff—” “Tell me what he is to you,” he repeated as he drifted closer to her without realizing it. What if that fucker had asked her to move in with him and that’s where all her shit was? She would spend every night next to a man that wasn’t Alek, wrapped around him, taking care of him. Loving him? She again exhibited how she’d been developing without him by tilting her chin at an obstinate angle she wouldn’t have displayed before. She shook her head. He snagged her wrist and placed her palm on his thrashing heart, holding it there when she would have jerked it away. It brought her close, but he needed her closer, so he took that half step. He wanted to shout at her, to demand she start talking, but Vasily’s warning was echoing in the back of his mind, forcing him to keep a tight grip on the reigns. He let his head fall forward to get his mouth near her ear, and while the scent of her skin drove him mad, he spoke in a near whisper. “Please tell me what he is to you so I’ll know if it’s overkill to picture them needing more than one body bag to collect his remains.” A shocked gasp escaped from her as her face turned ashen, her heightened color leeching from her cheeks so quickly it was visible. Fear immediately radiated from her in small, stinging waves that prickled over his skin. “He has done nothing to you, Alekzander. You above all people cannot harm a man for being loyal and supportive.” When he’s being loyal and supportive to you; yes, I can. He grunted as the hypocrisy of the thought connected with his gut. Closing his eyes, he released her and moved out of her personal space. “Fuck me. I’m sorry. Please forget I said that. I’m…on edge.” “You cannot hurt him. Promise me that, Alekzander.” He turned his head and gave her a sidelong look that should have sent her

running. “Tell me what he is to you, and you have my word that I will not hurt him.” Maks could always do the honors. When she gave her lip an indecisive nibble, he added, “I just need to know what I’m up against.” Something soft entered her eyes but was gone in a blink. “What do you think he is to me?” “Your boyfriend.” Deny it. “Then there is no need for me to say anything.” She didn’t meet his eyes as she drifted to the corner of the sofa where a laundry basket sat, filled with folded towels and linens. She began shaking them out and refolding them. It was something she used to do when stressed. One time, he’d come home after driving from Atlantic City through a snow storm to find her sitting amid the contents of their linen closet, eyes red-rimmed, skin pale. Her parents had died in a car accident, and she’d been worried about him. She’d tried to distract herself by listening to classic fifties music while refolding bedsheets and tablecloths. They’d made a mess of everything because he’d joined her in her nest and spent the next hour reassuring her all was well. Fuck, he loved who they were back then. As he imagined hanging the fucking attorney from a meat hook and tenderizing him until not one bone in his body was left intact, Alek found himself in front of her. He dropped his coat on the sofa and slowly reached out to lower the pillowcase she was holding up that prevented him from seeing her. “I was never unfaithful to you, Sacha,” he said with a low apology in his voice because there was no denying he’d put them here. “Not in mind or body. Which means, by letting Sheppard into your bed, the only cheater in this relationship…is you.”

♦ ♦ ♦ Sacha stood very still, wondering if she’d heard that right. He did not just

accuse her of being unfaithful to them. But he did. From the moment she opened the door to him, she’d gone from being afraid to feeling weak and needy, then angry. She’d felt sympathetic, amused, smug because he was clearly jealous, which had sent her back to being scared for Justin, then terrified again because Alekzander was so near Lekzi and Sacha wasn’t strong enough to send him away. Until she remembered what he did. Now she couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. And through it all, she continued to struggle with her overwhelming physical attraction to him. This man had a way of filling her senses. She hated that, and loved it. Hated him. Yet loved him with everything in her. To her eyes, he was magnificence. To her ears, the deep cadence of his voice was an aphrodisiac. His scent was driving her crazy as it continued to drift under her nose every few minutes; she felt like an addict, trembling and panting as she waited for more and more. Crisp apples and the Versace store on Mercer Street kept going through her mind. Taste and touch were only memories, but they were vivid enough to weaken her knees. And break her heart. The only cheater in this relationship…is you. The accusation once more roared in her ears as she saw him in her mind’s eye, behind his desk with that woman in his lap. Had they flirted during business meetings? Had their attraction to each other grown over time, or had it been immediate? How often had they come together in the privacy of Alekzander’s office? And why hadn’t he cared enough to even react when Sacha had walked in on them? Because it had been fabricated? The maelstrom of emotions battering her ebbed and eventually faded altogether until she felt as if she were an empty void with skin. No. Not empty.

She was soaked with pain. He was doing it to her again, taking from her when she had so little left to give. He’d stolen her happiness. And her innocence by tainting her view of the world. He’d stolen the optimism her parents had instilled in her; the very thing that had gotten her through her debilitating grief after they’d been killed in a car crash on their way home from her father’s first chemo treatment. But the most precious thing, the one that made her sick with loss; he’d taken from her the excitement and joy she should have experienced carrying her first child. Sacha had spent those months struggling to live her very life as she battled depression, grief, and loneliness brought on by feelings of betrayal, abandonment, and humiliation. All of which still lived inside her today. When she felt able to speak, her tone was as hollow as her being. “I cannot express just how revolting you are to me. Or how utterly insane you sounded just now. Please, leave my home, and do not come back here.” Panic bolted through his eyes as he reached out. She jerked back to escape contact and stumbled from the force of the move. She nearly fell over a rubber giraffe, and would have happily landed on her ass if it meant avoiding his touch. He tried to save her from falling, but she swatted him away. “Do not touch me!” She righted herself on her own. As she’d always done. “It was a lie, Sacha.” Her world tilted as that pierced her like an arrowhead. “I am aware of that. It was something I realized quite soon after seeing you with her.” His brows slammed down. “Not us. Her. The whole scene you walked in on was bullshit.” “Ah. Yes. So you said.” “I don’t blame you for not believing me. But if you’ll keep an open mind while I explain, I’m praying you’ll understand why I did it.” She wavered, finding herself drawn to the sincerity in his voice and expression. No. She couldn’t listen to him. With no more than a few gently spoken

lines he was getting to her. She wrung the pillowcase in her hands, twisting it back and forth. Dammit. How was she letting him get to her? She couldn’t allow herself to believe the regret and misery in his eyes was real. It wasn’t. It was an illusion. Just like his love for her had been. What was real was what she’d seen with her own two eyes. Her glands watered, preparing to ease the way for her breakfast to come up. “You are hurting me again,” she said honestly. “I cannot be near you anymore. I do not want to listen to you. Every word you speak tops up the poison you inject, and I am full. Right to here.” She unraveled the cotton cutting into her palm and brought her flattened hand beneath her chin. “It chokes me, Alekzander. Please, just go.” “I will ease you, my angel.” The familiar reverential tone he used didn’t only lure her, it soothed her, taking the edge off her pain. “If you’ll let me,” he whispered. “I will ease you with the truth.” Something deep inside her begged her to nod. To give him permission to help her. It lay there, barely breathing, and pleaded with its final breaths. But before she could accept his aid, a tight rap on the door preceded Angela sweeping into the apartment as was her habit. Before Sacha knew what was happening, Alekzander spun and planted himself in front of her and Tanner, so they were sheltered behind the barrier his big body presented. The feel of his hand, hot and tight on her hip, stole the strength from her muscles to the extent that she had to latch onto the back of his jacket to save herself from ending up on the floor. “Well, going by that display, I’d say my girl’s Russian is in the house.” Scrambling to return to reality, Sacha let go of the expensive suit material and slapped at Alekzander’s hand with the pillowcase she still held. That wide palm and his long fingers were burning right through her jeans to mark her skin, causing a maddening but undeniable desire to curl through her belly. How insane that she wanted to press herself into him and wait for that hand to travel.

He didn’t release her, and that forced her to peer around his shoulder to see her smirking—curious—friend leaning against the door she’d just closed. Angela wouldn’t have found any humor in the situation had she been able to see Alekzander’s other hand resting on what Sacha knew was a weapon of some sort at his lower back. He would either have a knife or a small pistol in a carrier strapped around his waist, along with the gun he always wore harnessed across his chest. Which was it today? She found herself wanting to lift his clothes to see what was pressed against his tawny skin. Irritated when his hand flexed on the weapon, she smacked it. Quick as lightning, he snagged her fingers and held them. She could have kneed him or something, but he had made the protective gesture to protect her and Tanner, and it had been self-sacrificing. And sexy. And kind of chivalrous. So she went easy on him and gently tried to extract her fingers. At the same time, she poked into the hard muscle in the middle of the broad back in her face to get him out of the way. “You can move now. We are in no danger from Tanner’s mother. This is Angela, my landlord and friend.” “It’s probably in bad taste to voice this, but that was really hot.” Angela came over, giving Sacha a wide-eyed look that read holy-shit-did-he-really-justdo-that? She held out her hand. “Hi. I’m the best girlfriend and resident nosy protective bitch. You must be Alekzander.” He released Sacha’s fingers to shake. “It’s Alek. Nice to meet you, Angela. Is it your normal practice to enter your tenant’s homes without knocking?” “Alekzander!” Sacha poked harder, her finger really digging into that sinewy pad that ran along the right side of his spine. Angela’s curved eyebrow rose, and her head tipped in that way that meant something either entertaining or shocking was coming. “Maybe you didn’t hear me over the testosterone I had to swim through to get across the room; I’m Sacha’s bestie. That means I come and go from my girl’s place the same way she does from mine. We share our homes, our

problems, our dreams…our hurts,” she said pointedly. “And that conveniently brings us back to you.” “Speaking of convenient.” He finally stepped aside to take up his coat and shrug it on as he turned a masked stare on Sacha. “It seems these interruptions are working in your favor because you just gained yourself another respite. Do you own this building, Angela?” “My dad does. When you say respite, I take it that means you’ll be back?” “Of course. What does your father do for a living?” “He buys buildings like this one and has his nine kids take care of them. Has Sacha given you any indication she wants you to return?” His attention came to her, and the way that pale gaze made its way from her head to her toes, she knew he’d taken in her every reaction to him today. “Yes. This expressive little angel has always been very easy for me to read. What’s your surname?” he tacked on. “Trump. What’s yours?” Sacha, who could barely breathe after that visual caress, was looking between the two in disbelief. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously, forcing her voice not to betray the deep pulse now giving her trouble between her thighs. Two heads turned her way. “Finding out who she is.” “Finding out what his intentions are.” They spoke at the same time, and that had their focus returning to each other. “My name is Angela Morgan-Taylor. I’m a crisis counselor at North York Women’s Center. My husband, Steve Taylor, is a trial lawyer at Sheppard, Lupin, and Sheppard. We’ve been married for four years, have one son,” she pointed behind Sacha, “and we have a shitload of parking tickets that we keep stuffed in a drawer next to our stove in the hopes that one day they’ll catch fire and all our problems will be solved.” Sacha’s lip twitched. Alekzander’s didn’t.

He jerked his sleeves down then began buttoned his coat as he hacked away at Sacha’s resistance. “I am Alekzander Evgeny Tarasov. I am co-owner of TarMor Incorporated. My should-be wife, Sacha Urusski, is self-employed. I fucked up our relationship of almost a year, have every intention of rectifying my grievous mistake, and would have been halfway there by now if you hadn’t interrupted.” He stepped forward, gently clasped Sacha’s slack jaw, and pressed a warm kiss to the corner of her shocked mouth. “I’ll try again later, angel,” he murmured before walking out. “Well fuck me to tears,” Angela said under her breath as they both stared wide-eyed at the closed door. Yes, please, Sacha shamefully agreed when she knew very well she shouldn’t.

ELEVEN Alek hit the button to lower the garage door before he and Anton entered the Old Westbury house through the entrance leading to a short corridor off the front foyer. “Hey! Settle the fuck down,” Vincente’s voice boomed. “You deaf, boy? Sit! He jumps. Seriously, what the fuck, babe? I’m telling you, this dog has a fuckin’ hearing problem. Nika! You hearing me? Come and get your dog.” Anton ducked back out into the garage with his finger going in a back and forth motion. “Let them know I am here. I do not need some Italian putting a hole in me because he is startled by my presence.” He shut the door as Nika’s voice rang out. “One sec! I almost have him. Or her. Do you think it’s a girl? I think it’s a girl. Eva! Hurry with the milk!” “Jesus Christ,” V grunted with an edge of humor in his voice that only those who knew him well would recognize. “Trisko, I swear to fuck, if the view wasn’t so good, I’d boot you in the ass for this.” Alek came around the corner to see two Moretti soldiers stationed at the door. Vito had recently returned from some time off after having taken a blade to the eye during an altercation a while back. Bobby T had finally made it back from Seattle. He’d been with Gabriel during his self-imposed exile that had lasted five years. Gabriel was lounging in the only chair in the foyer, legs extended, fingers locked together over his middle. He tipped his chin up in greeting then went back to watching the show. He looked thoroughly entertained. One of his security team, Jakson Trisko, a former Navy SEAL, was a few feet away, his shoulder leaning into the wall, a beer in his hand. Jak gave him a lazy salute, his gaze going beyond Alek to prove he’d heard Anton’s unfamiliar

voice. His wide grin that puckered the jagged scar running from his right ear to the corner of his mouth dimmed slightly. None of them liked new faces. The only guy not lounging was Vincente. He was sitting against the far wall with a Tasmanian Devil shoved between his legs. Oh. It was Charlie, his and Nika’s five-month-old Rottweiler. Going. Wild. V’s attention was on Nika, who was across the way. She, too, was on the floor, wearing a classic business suit in a pale green. The four-inch matching heels she had on likely put her over six feet in height. Her ass was in the air, her chest on the floor, and she was reaching under the table that held a few of her man’s Harley models that cost almost as much as the real thing. Eva’s voice came from the hallway that led to the kitchen. “I won’t kick your ass, Jak. But I might plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek because you’re such a softie.” “She doesn’t mean that,” G muttered with a smirk. “Oh! I think I—shit. I thought I—oh, come on, you little bugger.” Nika went lower and reached farther under the table. “You show anymore leg; I’ll fuckin’ shoot that cat and drag it out of there myself,” Vincente growled. That had his woman straightening with a snap. Her mane of hair flew around, the colors looking like autumn leaves. Her face was flushed, eyes bright. Beautiful girl. “Really? Really, Vincente? I’m trying to help a terrified baby, and you’re staring at my ass?” “Uh, yeah.” Tone said it was a no-brainer. “I can see your goddamn stockings. Pull your skirt down and call for Samnang to bring a broom.” Nika’s gasp mingled with Eva’s as she came down the hall—also in business attire, though hers was maternity. She was balancing a small bowl of what must be the milk. V looked over at Alek and winked. Eva smiled a greeting at him. “Did you hear that?” Nika said to Eva. “Looks like I’ll be the only one playing with a kitty tonight.” Jak and Gabriel laughed as she waved Eva down

next to her. “Bring it here. You.” She pointed to Vincente. “Hold your dog for two seconds. How hard can it be?” Charlie barked three times and started scraping the tile trying to get to his mistress. “Oh, settle down,” she cooed, smiling. “You’re all talk. You know you’re going to love her. Or him. Which do you think she is?” “Don’t know. But let me at it and I’ll find out.” Eva went to take the same position Nika had been in but paused when G knocked his knuckles on the table at his elbow. “Don’t even think about it.” She tilted her head as her eyes flicked up in a quick roll. “You’re worried someone’s going to glance at my quickly growing ass?” “No. I’m worried a fleabag from the woods will be the cause of my son having a crooked head if you start rolling around on the floor with your friend.” She snorted. “If his head’s crooked, it’ll be entirely your fault. What’s the difference between rolling around here or on a mattress?” She went on her side and laid her head down. Her raven hair spread out like an oil slick. Another beauty. “Come out here, sweetheart. Let us maul you.” “This should do the trick.” Samnang Oung, their perpetually smiling housekeeper, came from the same direction Eva had. His grin was as bright as his peach shirt. He was holding up what looked to be a saucer of tuna or salmon. “Hello, Mr. Alek. Nice to see you this evening.” Nika looked over her shoulder. “Oh, hi, Alek.” “Hey. What do you have under there?” “Found a lone kitten curled up in a tree trunk in the west woods,” Jak answered. “Brought it home and V’s pissed.” “I don’t give a fuck about the cat.” Vincente rearranged his grip on the squirming dog. “My deal is with this one who’s gonna destroy the place chasing it.” “Ouch!”

His gaze whipped to Nika. It went from concerned to tender to agonized as she began fussing with the little ginger ball she was now bringing under her chin with a hand that had a long, bleeding scratch on it. “There you are, darling. Did you scratch one of your new mommies? Oh, you sweet, silly baby. It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid. Nobody here will hurt you. I promise.” A sick feeling took up residence in Alek’s gut. How often had Nika wished someone had been there to say those words to her while her dead husband was beating on her? Vincente must have been paying more attention to Nika than Charlie, because in the next second, the fifty pound Rotti was loose and barreling across the foyer toward the girls. Over the sound of all the men jumping into action while cursing their heads off, Nika’s voice rang out stern and clear. “No!” Charlie’s paws slid as he put on the brakes. He stopped three feet from Nika’s thigh and moved the rest of the way to her in a sheepish crouch, his tail hammering back and forth a mile-a-minute. “That’s my good boy,” she praised as she handed the kitten over to a grabby Eva so she could take the dog into her lap and cuddle with him, good clothes and all. “Do you see what a smarty-pants you are? I told Daddy your lessons were working. Mommy’s so proud of her special boy.” “Sure I can’t knock you up yet?” Vincente asked in a low voice. “Not yet,” Nika answered with her face buried in black fur, her tone suggesting the question had been asked before. “But you’ll be the first to know when I’m ready.” He nodded once. “Just thought I’d check.” He left the girls to their animals and wandered over to Alek. On his way by, he punched Jak in the side. “A fuckin’ cat, soldier? Real man’s pet. Hey,” he said to Alek when he reached him. “I hear you got yourself a permanent shadow. Why don’t I see him?” “Ducked out when he heard you bellowing. Didn’t want to get caught in

the cross-hairs.” Alek brought Anton in and made an informal announcement regarding his new role. After nods of satisfaction and a few it’s-about-times, the rest of their crew arrived home from the city and everyone settled in the main room as they usually did on weekends when they found themselves home together. Alek made sure to stay in the moment, knowing he had to decompress before he saw Sacha again. He had to get her alone next time. Completely. With a guard at the door and no one in her camp having any knowledge of where she was. And no babies around. He wasn’t going to let anything distract him from detailing his defense… Bad choice of words, he realized when Sheppard came to mind. He looked at his watch, groaned inwardly at the early hour, then looked for a distraction. Maks and his Aussie had ended up on the sofa. Sydney, who was sniffling and glaring at the ginger kitten on the other side of the room, was a walking fetish in a cozy onesie she’d changed into; Alek couldn’t tell if it was sleepwear or a costume since it had a puffy tail and a hood that would turn her into a koala if she were to put it up. She curled into Maks’s side and let out a long sigh. Her nightclub, one of the most popular in Manhattan, kept her busy until the wee hours, so she took her downtime seriously. Maks’s arm caged her in even as his hands were busy working the controls on a game he was playing with Andrew and Elli that consisted of blowing the heads off some fast moving zombies. “Yes!” Andrew threw his arm in the air. He and Elli fist-bumped without taking their eyes off the screen. Maks muttered something about unfair teams and cheating which had the kids scoffing and rolling their eyes. Sydney looked up at him. When he pretended to yawn, as if bored, she snickered and tightened her hold on his waist as she snuggled in deeper. Maks pressed his lips to the top of her head and left them there as he played. Sickening display, Alek thought grumpily as he moved on. Micha and Anton were near the entrance to the main room, talking too

quietly in the mother tongue for Alek to make anything out. Gabriel and Eva were at the bar with Jak and another of G’s bodyguards. Quan Mao had been with Gabriel since Seattle. It had taken them all some time to accept the lethal Asian who at one time belonged to an organization based in New York but was controlled out of Shanghai. But after proving himself time and again, Quan was now one of theirs. Him and Eva were right into something displayed on a laptop while Jak and Gabriel exchanged skeptical looks behind their backs. “Instead, you’ll place it as you would a regular bed,” Quan was saying as he pointed at the screen, “because putting the long side of the crib against the wall while leaving the end out in the open will put your son in a defensive position. Not favourable for the kind of deep rest an infant requires for proper development.” Quan stepped back to regard Gabriel. Both of them were in shirts and slacks with their sleeves rolled up to the elbows. But where G was big and could club the fuck out of a man, Quan was lean and could snake around and snap the bastard’s neck before the guy knew what hit him. Jak, who could do both, was in a black hoodie and worn jeans. “You should appreciate the fact that I’m glossing over most of this,” Quan said to his boss. “I could always send the ladies into a frenzy by telling them all the ways in which the very design of this house is stealing energy from every one of us. For instance, the front door, or ‘the mouth of Chi’, is how a house absorbs its necessary energy nourishment. With both staircases facing that mouth directly, the Chi sweeps through and rushes either up or down, which leaves the main floor—where most of our time is spent—without energy nourishment. You think your bedroom is your happy place for obvious reasons, but there’s more to that than just her.” His open palm presented Eva. “And don’t get me started on the lack of green and all the sharp edges constantly pointing outward,” he went on, indicating the corner of the sofa table

a few feet away. “Or how all the bedrooms ooze masculine Chi which is choking theirs.” He pointed at each woman, all of who were now listening intently. “Or maybe it’s the lack of air-purifying plants doing that.” He shrugged. “If you want an easy fix that won’t cure but will help; change the headboards on your beds. Get something padded and soft.” His hand touched Eva’s shoulder. “Yin Chi. But make sure it’s in a warm shade of a masculine color of your choice.” He put his other hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Yang Chi. It will make for a harmonious exchange of energy between partners.” Gabriel wasn’t buying it. He stroked his big hand over Eva’s belly. “I think the shape of my wife’s body is a direct testament to how harmonious our exchanges already are, Mahatma,” he said as he walked away. Laughter came from every corner. Grinning, Alek shifted his study to the final pair in their crowd. Vincente and Nika were playing pool on the red-felt table in the corner. As V lined up a shot, Nika slid off a stool and went over to put a file folder under his nose. They now matched because she’d changed into jeans and a Harley T-shirt. Charlie was pressing his big body into her knees and staring up at her because she had the ginger kitten cuddled under one arm. “If he’s anything like his uncle and cousin in Seattle,” Nika said. “We’ll never have to worry about workers screwing around on site.” Vincente barely glanced at the paperwork. It must be from ROM Construct. “Who’s the cousin and uncle?” “Neil and Braden O’Byrne.” That had V lowering the file so he could look at Nika. “Neil O’Byrne. He’s the former president of the Seattle chapter.” Nika nodded. Her brother was the vice-president of a biker club, so she didn’t even blink. “Braden is the current president,” V pointed out. “Yeah. So they’re like family,” the redhead said with a hopeful look. “It says here Sean was in the service the same time Braden was. See? He’s the one

applying for the position.” Vincente gave her the stink eye. “Yeah, I got that, babe.” “Braden O’Byrne was dishonorably discharged for beating a man almost to death,” Jak said as he wandered over. “Lost his focus one too many times and they kicked his ass out.” Jak was a military information whore. Guy had a brain like a computer. But if you asked him what he ate for lunch, nada. Nika gave Jak a look that said he wasn’t helping. “Well, Sean finished his tour, and he’s the one we’re considering for the foreman job, so…” “If he’s anything like Braden, I’d hire him.” Jak, who looked apologetic, went down to the floor and patted his leg for Charlie to come for a visit. The dog danced his way over and started head-butting Jak’s arm before rolling onto his back and panting through a happy grin. “I liked the guy despite the bad temper. I hear he had a rough homecoming and is now singularly raising his five-year-old boy.” Nika turned to V. “See? Likable family. Can I set up an interview?” “Does he ride with your brother?” She looked shifty. “Yeah.” “Does Caleb like him?” “He says he’s a good guy, and he’d vouch for him. Said Sean has two little girls and a wife just as tough as he is. But I told you that already.” She smiled. “Fine. Set it up.” He grabbed the file before she could walk away with it and pulled out what looked to be a photo. “I want to be there,” he muttered as he handed it back. Nika went over and slipped the file into her briefcase. Her smile was satisfied. Familiar. Alek wore the same one when he got his way during a business transaction. “Quan,” V said as the Asian went to leave with the laptop tucked under his arm. “You been in mine and Nika’s room lately?” Quan turned and gave Nika, then Eva a disapproving look. Both girls looked guilty. “You said you cleared it with him.”

Nika went and wrapped her arms around V’s midsection. She rested her head between his shoulder blades. “He was talking about bed placement affecting mojo so I thought he could give us some advice. You were in New Jersey, and I didn’t want to bother you.” She patted his chest. “I think it worked. I haven’t had a nightmare in three nights. Pretty sure that’s a record.” Vincente and Eva exchanged a look. When Eva mouthed “Lie.” A muscle in V’s jaw ticked. He sent a hand back to stroke Nika’s hip. “It’s no big deal, babe. I like the changes.” He gave Quan a nod as Samnang came to the entrance. “If anyone is hungry,” the Cambodian announced. “The table is ready.” Seemed everyone had their issues, Alek thought as he joined the queue and headed for the kitchen. He didn’t think he’d be able to eat much, but he sat, and as everyone filled their plates with perfectly grilled steaks, mashed potatoes, and a variety of veggies, Alek looked around at his family and couldn’t help but wonder if he had a fighting chance at making this picture perfect. He was the odd man out as he sat here without a woman at his side. One more chair filled. That was all he wanted. One less empty space and he’d be happy.

TWELVE Sacha blinked her eyes quickly to dry her lashes and slipped the mascara wand back into the tube. She stood away from the mirror and looked at herself. She didn’t wear makeup like this anymore. And she hadn’t worn it this heavy since the beginning of her pregnancy when she’d attempted to hide how tired and sick she’d been. The morning sickness had only lasted a few weeks, but the heartsickness, the absolute exhaustion? That had stuck around. It had settled into her soul and hadn’t lifted until… Last night. Her stomach turned over as she closed the bathroom door all the way and got into her only formal dress. It was pale gold and clung in all the right places, and a few she’d rather it didn’t. On those final ten pounds of pregnancy weight she hadn’t lost, to be specific. Alekzander would enjoy them. Heat spread outward from her middle, warming her body. It was true. With Alekzander, she’d never had to worry he found her too heavy and wished she worked out more—or at all. He’d given her the freedom to feel beautiful and sexy just as she was because that was the way he’d liked her. Just as she was. She checked herself out in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. She’d borrowed Angela’s flatiron and straightened her hair so that it fell in a thick curtain to the middle of her back. Now she smoothed it down with an uncertain hand and met her eyes in the reflection. He was the reason she was feeling like this. Her body, which had been in hibernation since they’d last been together, was waking. It had been reacting to thoughts of him all day, going from tingly to ferociously hungry. “You saw him having sex with someone else, you stupid woman. Nothing

will ever change that,” she muttered unhappily. “He couldn’t possibly justify why he did it unless the woman had a gun pointed at…him…” She blinked, paling. Oh, God. That wasn’t something she’d ever thought of. Not even once. I didn’t do it. What you saw that night in my office was fabricated. His words echoed in her mind, making her frown. Okay. He hadn’t been forced. He’d been a willing participant. Fabricated…what did he mean— No. She wouldn’t be this person. Someone who overlooked cheating because she was in love. For whatever reason, he’d done it. Period. And there was no excuse for that. So that meant her only two options were to get rid of him, or leave her new life. She couldn’t allow herself to linger and risk him finding out about Lekzi simply because Alekzander was Sacha’s greatest weakness. She straightened her spine. The next time she saw him, she would make it clear there was no reason for him to pursue this. If it seemed he was going to do so anyway, she would leave. Hearing Angela singing a Maroon 5 song to Lekzi and Tanner out in the living room had Sacha’s heart aching. She didn’t want to give up her life. She didn’t want to start over with nothing and no one. She didn’t want that for Lekzi. Maybe she wouldn’t have to. Justin had spoken to their family lawyer today. What if there was another option she could live with? “Hello in there! You gonna walk the catwalk for us, or what?” She almost smiled at Angela’s shout but didn’t quite make it because she was once again wondering how Alekzander would react if he found out about their daughter. His fuse was a long one, but once it ran out, one was smart to stand clear of the shit storm that normally ensued. Smoothing her dress over her hips, she went out so Angela and the kids could rate her choice of date clothes. Or, at least that’s what she thought Angela had said earlier. Maybe she’d been mistaken, and her friend had said they would rate her dated clothes.

Angela whistled like a construction worker. “Well, damn, girl.” Her friend was drying her hands on a towel as she stepped away from the sink. Tanner was hammering at something in the playpen and Lekzi was happily kicking her feet in her high-chair after just having finished some fruit. “You look like Kim a couple of years ago. Remember when she went caramel. Shiiit. You have the hair and the ass. And don’t tell me those thighs didn’t drive that gorgeous man wild at one time. Did I tell you I think he’s gorgeous? That smolder? Come on. It’s too bad he’s a delusional, disloyal, cheating ass. Anyway, look at these puppies.” She flustered Sacha by reaching out and pushing a finger into the side of one of her breasts. “You lucky beotch.” She cupped both her own much smaller boobs. “What the hell? I’m breastfeeding, too, and I look like a damn boy.” “You do not look like any boy I have ever seen.” Angela was much thinner than Sacha, but she was gently rounded and was clearly a woman. “You are perfectly sized for your body type.” “Uh-huh. Is this the only formal dress you have?” Sacha looked down at the elegant sleeveless dress. It had no plunging neckline or open back, but it was still lovely. “Yes.” “Thought so. Why didn’t you buy something new? You wore this to the last three benefits I dragged you to.” Angela was often sent by her boss to stand in for her at charity dinners. Sacha suspected the friendly woman was secretly sharing the fancy meals and formal dances with her employee. And, in turn, Angela shared them with Sacha when Steve wasn’t available. Feeling emotional all of a sudden, she turned away to get her wrap from the closet. “I have more important things to do with my money than spend it on clothes.” “Oh, really?” Angela looked around her unit, then frowned. “Hey, where’s all your stuff?” “I put it away before Alekzander could see it.”

“Oh, yeah. Guess he’d have wondered about the billion photos of baby girl, here.” She got Lekzi out of her chair and put her on a blanket in front of the couch. “So, what’s this important stuff you spend your money on? Shit must be invisible, ’cause I don’t see it.” “I do not spend it, I save it. Some of it goes into an account I set up for Lekzi’s college fund, and the rest I put away in case I have to leave.” “Well, since me and the boys aren’t going to let that happen, we’ll go shopping soon.” Sacha gave Angela a regretful look as she laid her wrap over her arm. She was briefly distracted and became breathless when she remembered doing the same with Alekzander’s coat today. Up close his lips had looked velvety and firm, and she knew for a fact they were. “Steve was accurate about one thing last night,” she said. “Alekzander will not take it well if he learns what I did. I cannot sit here and wait for that to happen.” “Uh-huh.” “What does that mean?” She unplugged her phone and put it in her evening bag that held only lipstick and some cash. She didn’t carry a debit or credit card because she had neither. No bank account and no extra money made that easy enough. “It means I’m sort of jelly over the way your Russian looked at you this afternoon. I know it pains you to hear it, but I’m going to say it anyway. That man may have been unfaithful, but he is living to regret it. He looked at you like you were life.” She grimaced as if in apology for what she said next. “You must know he isn’t going to give up without a fight. He’s going to try to convince you to forgive him. I don’t know how, but I saw the determination in him. You must have, too.” “I did, and I do not understand it. What is the translation for ‘fabricated?’ Created, yes?” “Yeah. Made up. Fake. Phoney. Why?”

“He said what I saw in his office that night was fabricated. He wants me to give him the opportunity to explain.” She’d have told Angela this after Alekzander had left this afternoon but Steve had texted for a ride. Her friend frowned as she took Tanner out of the playpen to put him with Lekzi, who babbled a greeting. “To explain or lie? It’s hard to guess one’s motives once you don’t trust them anymore. What does your gut tell you?” Sacha bit her lip. “To keep him away from my baby. But I also feel I should tell him about her. I have never felt like such an awful person.” “Aside from that.” Sacha sighed. “To get naked and ride him as if I am the star of the rodeo?” Dark brown eyes popped wide, and then Angela was laughing uproariously. Sacha’s face steamed, but it was the truth. When Alekzander was around, her head was full of Lekzi, sex, or his betrayal. “Holy shit.” Angela wiped at her eyes a minute later. She was laying on her back with Tanner crawling across her navel. “He’s been back in your life a couple of days, and you’re opening up like a pretty flower. Finally, you’re relaxing that guard, and I’m catching a glimpse of who you really are. Funny how the mate of your soul gets so deep that he can do that for you.” Sacha merely nodded because it was true. There was no way she could convincingly denying it was Alekzander who was bringing this out in her. “Don’t hide her anymore because I seriously think I’ll love her even more than I love the sheltered you.” Angela rolled onto her stomach and set up some foam blocks that the children knocked over as fast as she stacked them. “What was he like with you before he went stupid?” Sacha sat at the table, remembering. “Warm, generous, loving. He was honest, so entertaining. He could be very charming and persuasive when he wanted his way. He was possessive.” She nervously played with the silky material of her dress. “He could also be intimidating, was very spoiled, but enjoyed spoiling others at the same time. He brought me to St. Barts once because he said he

wanted to see what I looked like in a bikini.” She laughed softly. “We traveled around the island for two days looking for just the right thing for Alekzander’s housekeeper, a sweet older man. He ended up choosing a terribly loud and gaudy button-up shirt that I feared would offend. But when he gave it to Samnang, the man’s eyes lit up as if it were Prada. It was so sweet that Alekzander knew him well enough and cared enough to make the effort. Oh, and he’s spectacular in bed,” she snuck in because it was the first time she’d ever had the chance to brag about her daughter’s father. She jumped to her feet when she saw Angela regarding her with a speculative look. “Amen. Sounds like a dream. Maybe you should hear him out. Was he spectacular in a dirty way or just really good?” “Dirty and really good,” she murmured, too distracted by memories of how good and dirty Alekzander had been for Angela’s recommendation to register. She’d never had anyone to talk to about sex other than the man she’d had sex with. “Bet you were a virgin when you met him.” “I was. An inexperienced one. He used to enjoy shocking me,” she said as she agitatedly gathered up the text transcript of a lecture on Philosophy and Science of Human Nature she’d gotten from the course she was enjoying. “The way he talked about what we were doing while we did it was…very sexy. I never got used to that.” She blew out a hot breath. “He was very dirty.” “Does he know you well?” “Better than anyone.” “What did he get you for your birthday?” Emotion drifted up Sacha’s throat. “A figurine of a couple doing the Jive.” “For your parents,” Angela said with a catch in her voice that got Sacha right in the heart. Sacha’s mom and dad were professional ballroom dancers who’d traveled around Russia and the Ukraine by request, doing shows and competitions. Her favorite dance of theirs had been the jive. The way they’d anticipated each

other’s moves, complimenting and highlighting each other’s strengths had been so beautiful to Sacha. God, she missed them. She’d grown up in a small village in Northwest Russia, surrounded by the greenest of forests and the bluest of streams. She’d loved it and had assumed she’d happily live out her life there. Until her parents’ death turned her sheltered world into a place of loneliness and isolation. A knock had sounded on their door one evening as she’d set the table for dinner. She’d been wondering why they were so late, worrying because they had an early start the next day for a show in Saint Petersburg. Two large shapes had been visible through the glass panel, and with her stomach churning and dread seeping in, she’d opened with the chain attached. She’d quickly shut and reopened it all the way when she’d seen her visitors were policemen. She’d attended elementary school with the one but couldn’t remember his name, and didn’t care enough to look at the tag on his chest. Sacha Urusski? the other had questioned as she’d started to shake. She’d nodded, and had barely been able to remain upright as he explained about the head-on crash that had just taken her parents’ lives. She’d thought she and her mother would have to suffer the agony of burying her father after he succumbed to the effects of the pancreatic cancer he’d been diagnosed with a month before. But no. A stretch of road they’d commonly traveled, and a logging truck was what took them both from her. With no siblings anywhere in her small family tree, and her grandparents already long gone by then, Sacha was left alone. She’d wallowed and wished things were different for almost a year before escaping to New York. The only person she’d thought might care that she was leaving had been the older man who’d lived down the road from them. He’d known Sacha her entire life and had always been nice to her, though that had changed when he found out she’d sold the house and their ten acres of land to a young newlywed couple without first asking if he was interested in purchasing it. He hadn’t spoken to her again, not even returning her wave when her taxi had

driven past his driveway on the way to the airport the day she’d left. Her throat thickened. She’d forgotten how she’d felt during that year. How difficult it had been when she realized no one would know or care if she disappeared and was never seen or heard from again. She was leaving her daughter to the same fate. She tried to push the thought away as she always did, but it wouldn’t budge this time. If a sudden illness struck, or a speeding taxi, history would repeat itself, and Lekzi would be alone in the world. Sacha would love to think Angela and Steve would take her in, but who knew? The tragic part? Her daughter had a family. A large, loving and protective one that included a father who would adore her, who would shelter her from anything and everything life would throw at her. Alekzander would love his child in that way every little girl deserved to be loved by her father. The way Sacha had been loved by her father. A man she’d worshiped. I’m robbing my daughter of what I thrived on. When she slowly turned and found Angela right behind her, her expression expectant and sympathetic, Sacha whispered something she’d known for a long time but could no longer deny. “I think I have made a terrible mistake.”

THIRTEEN “Everything is ready. Care for a rundown?” Alek took a break from scanning the large ballroom decorated in simple but classic black and white with splashes of red. Sedate. Fitting. Not that he gave a shit about linens or paid any attention to the tasteful flower arrangements gracing the tables. He was searching for a beauty with sable hair and a body that would stop traffic. Instead, he got Markus Fane. Which was second best, because the uberefficient guy was making things happen, as usual. As suave and tall-dark-and-handsome as any old-school movie star, Markus flashed his pearly whites. “You, Maksim, and Sydney are now at table forty-four. I can’t believe you chose him as your wingman. I’d have gone with Gabriel. At least he and Eva blend.” “Don’t let Sydney hear you say that.” “As if she doesn’t know,” Markus said good-naturedly. “Look at them. I swear, by the way Maks is covering her, people are going to think she’s a celebrity and start asking for her autograph.” Alek looked over to see Sydney laughing up at something Maks was saying. There was a marked height difference between the two, as there always was when someone stood next to Maks, because he was something of a monster. They were standing close, both in their formal wear with Maks in a tux—as all the men were—and Sydney in a sequined emerald dress and heels. Her hand was on his waist, his huge mitt an inch from her ass. The protective stance was unmistakable. As was the stay-back vibe being thrown off. Gabriel’s demeanor with his wife wasn’t much different. Eva, wearing classic black, was behind his right shoulder, head bent, dark hair hiding the fact that her cell was at her ear. She looked rather Goth-like, reminding Alek of

Morticia Addams but without the hooded gaze searching for victims. Her Gomez had his big hand resting on the swell of her belly and, seriously, Gabriel’s expression couldn’t have been more unwelcoming. His eyes continuously scanned the crowd even though Jak was a few steps behind them. Quan was off to the right, looking debonair and serene as shit as he did the same. Alek could use some of that serenity right about now. “Yours is over there,” Markus said casually. Alek almost got whiplash looking to where Markus had motioned with an almost imperceptible tip of his chin. He cursed under his breath. She was going to kill him. She really was. Sacha was standing next to Sheppard, wearing pale gold and looking as if she’d just descended from the heavens. There should be a sea of admirers groveling at her feet with Alek front and center. Her pedestal was polished and ready, and he wanted her back up there by night’s end. He was through waiting. She would hear him out, he would beg for forgiveness, and they would wake up tomorrow morning cursing the time they’d lost being apart for so long. It was too bad that dress was going to end up in a ball in the corner of their room, he thought as he took in the way it paid homage to her frame, accenting her narrow rib cage and drawing the eye to hips a man couldn’t help but wish he was gripping as he drowned in her heat. Her wet, tight heat. Mmm. She stepped forward to shake a steely-eyed woman’s hand and the hidden slit in the long skirt revealed her leg all the way up to her goddamn luscious inner thigh. Great. Hello, hard-on. Goodbye, sanity. “Alek?” He blinked and looked to a smirking Markus. “Sorry. Go ahead.” “I was just saying that Lucian is here. He was watching me shuffle things around and got that interested gleam in his eye. He’s probably grilling your team right now.” Alek looked over to see Lucian Fane talking to Gabriel. The Romanian

stood out. Not because he was the only man in attendance dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit rather than a tux, but because he wore an impervious air of power that clearly said he feared nothing. He was about Alek’s height, had hair blacker than night, and he’d just lifted an elegant brow at Vasily’s appearance. Appearing mildly annoyed, he looked at Dmitri, then to Maks and Sydney, and then cast his gaze around the room, pausing on Micha and Anton, who were lingering near the entrance, before circling around until he found Alek. With a light touch to Vasily’s arm and a nod to Gabriel, Lucian left them. The crowd parted for him, the men looking on with a mix of fear and respect, the women with appreciation. “Truth be told,” Alek said to Markus, wondering at his brother’s behavior. “Hiding the fact that I’m chasing her isn’t a priority for me. Come on.” As Alek led him over to join the others, he mentioned one last thing he would need. “No worries. I’m sure I’ll be able to find something.” Markus smiled a greeting at Eva and bent to kiss the back of her hand. “I’ve been hearing great things about this conference. Seems a few of the ladies from last year’s graduating class from Columbia impressed a lot of people.” Eva beamed as Markus addressed Gabriel. “I’ve also heard talk of poachers moving in. Word is, there are three companies looking to take your Executive Director out for an expensive lunch. They’re so impressed, they don’t even care that she’s expecting. Normally, that brings down the guillotine. Not in her case.” “Really? Do you know who they are? Are they based in New York?” Eva asked excitedly. “Not that it matters,” Gabriel added under his breath, earning himself a light slap on the hip from his wife whose eyes widened when Markus told her the names of three companies that impressed even Alek. “Isn’t the last one under your brother’s umbrella?” he asked when the name rang a bell. Markus grinned. “Yeah. I haven’t had a chance to ride him about it yet.

He’ll have no idea one of his top brass is going after an unspeakable’s wife.” He chuckled, wholly entertained. Unspeakable was how Markus referred to anything to do with their quiet lives. “I’m telling you,” he said to Gabriel. “Arrange for this Gabriel Moretti guy to buy Gabe Moore’s half of TarMor and become visible. If they know it’s a duo working the reins, the sharks will swim away. If not, you’ll be fighting them off for the next decade.” Regret flashed in Gabriel’s eyes as he studied his wife. When she glanced up, he looked out over the room, appearing uninterested in the conversation. Not fooled, Eva intertwined their fingers and gave his arm a hug, which had the boss raising their clasped hands and kissing her fingers. To Markus, Gabriel said, “If they contact you, keep it to yourself and politely tell them to fuck off. I already know I’m holding her back. I don’t need to know what from.” “Alek? Will you point her out?” Sydney appeared at his elbow. “Maksim’s game of making me guess has gotten old.” “Two o’clock. Gold dress, straight hair.” That should be wavy. With it styled like that, Sacha looked young. Young and alluring, and too fucking approachable. “Wow,” Sydney said, sounding properly impressed. “If she talks like Natasha Fatale, I’ll die.” “Who?” Eva asked. “Holy crap, Alek. No wonder you never forgot her. I think Nika wins.” “Yeah,” Sydney agreed. “Definite eleven. Natasha Fatale is the hot Russian babe from Rocky and Bullwinkle. I don’t want Sacha to have the smoker’s voice, but the accent? Yes.” “The curvy one with the cigarette holder,” Eva said, nodding. “Yeah. I can totally see it.” As the girls talked, the band that had been warming up began to play.

“There’s my cue,” Alek said. “Markus, sooner rather than later on that room, okay?” He left them and detoured by the bar on his way around to rudely interrupt the cozy group that would soon be missing one of its members.

♦ ♦ ♦ As people came and went, Sacha found her smile growing more and more forced. A second ago, it had slipped away completely because she found herself standing between three Harvard graduates—Justin being one of them. She knew they went to Harvard because they’d just finished discussing some classmates who’d walked by. She also knew they went to Harvard because the knowledge was digging in and making her feel more inferior than she had in a long time. She straightened her spine again from the curve it kept trying to settle into. Justin’s associate once again had her back turned in an angle that excluded Sacha. Was she doing that deliberately? Trying to make Sacha feel as if she were an interloper? The emaciated woman needn’t have bothered. Sacha had been feeling that way since entering the room. She knew she didn’t belong here with these people. The more she witnessed their false cheer and listened to their confusing, double-meaning conversations, the more lost she became. Finally giving up, she amused herself by sipping at the two ounces of champagne in the bottom of her flute. As she brought the crystal down and looked around from under her lashes… Her heart slammed into her ribs. Good…God. Alekzander was at the edge of the dance floor looking the very image of class and sophistication. Like every man here, he wore a tuxedo. But it was better. He stood with one hand in his pocket while the other casually swirled a clear liquid in a squat glass. His gaze was locked on her. She wanted to walk over and kiss him until that controlled arrogance fell

away and he became the man who’d once began talking dirty to her while they drove through Brooklyn on their way back from a dinner party. Having had a few drinks, she’d felt brave enough to turn his teasing around on him. She’d lifted her dress and started stroking herself, saying he’d turned her on too much for her to wait until they got home. He’d shocked her by pulling into a dark alley, and looking viciously aroused, he’d dragged her on top of him and wasted no time impaling her with his steely length. He’d helped her ride them both to a frantic climax. She also wanted to stomp over and slap his gorgeous face to get that possessive light out of his eyes. He was the one who’d ruined them. Why was he acting as if that didn’t matter? She dropped her eyes to her glass. Before leaving home, she’d told Angela she would listen to Alekzander when he came to her again. And, depending on what he said—would she recognize a lie?—she would most likely tell him about his daughter. Sacha’s shoulders bowed. She would tell him about his daughter. For Lekzi’s sake. The Tarasovs would shower her baby with love, and Lekzi deserved that. Sacha could only pray she and Alekzander were able to deal with each other as adults and do what was best for their child. Having kept him in her periphery, she was fully aware when a stunning blonde sidled up to him. With her heart climbing into her throat, Sacha watched from the corner of her eye as Alekzander accepted what looked to be a key. He smiled and pocketed it while the beauty in the green dress patted his arm. They moved out of sight, and so badly did she want to look to see if they were leaving together, but she didn’t. Was it a hotel room key? An apartment key? Two more couples stopped to say hello to Justin, and Sacha smiled through the familiar soul-deep sickness once more consuming her. “Excuse me.” Everyone but her paused and turned. She waited, hoping he wasn’t about

to do what she was afraid he was about to do. “Sacha?” With her muscles aching from how stiffly she was holding herself, she slowly pivoted until she was facing her daughter’s father who’d just arranged to meet up with one of his women by accepting the key to her bloody hotel room. “Yes, Alekzander?” she pushed out as the scabs were ripped clean off wounds that would never heal. His lips were turned up in a social smile, but it had an edge to it that clearly warned he was not to be screwed with. “Dance with me?”

♦ ♦ ♦ Alek knew he was dressed just as the others were, but he also knew there was something off about him. It showed in the way the men shifted and grew wary when he joined them. Also in the way the women’s eyes brightened when they sensed the threat. He put his hand out to Sacha. “Come,” he murmured, his voice smooth but shadowed with something dark. “No, thank you.” Utter loathing coated her refusal. He dropped his arm. “Okay. We can talk here. Sixteen months ago—” “Stop it,” she said through a clenched jaw. “Then dance with me.” She looked from him to Justin and Alek felt his rage spike when she didn’t take his once more outstretched hand until Sheppard nodded. Gripping her fingers hard enough to make her gasp, he led—dragged—her to the middle of the dance floor and drew her stiff form against him. She pulled back, trying to turn their embrace into a social, we’re-strangers type of thing. He didn’t let her. No. He pulled her in until their bodies were flush. He placed one of her hands around his neck and the other he clasped and curled his wrist

around so that her palm was pressed tight to his pounding heart. She resisted. “If you don’t relax, I’ll cause the type of scene that will have you blushing for a goddamn week. Swear to God it’ll be so indecent we’ll make the lead story on whatever media form is in attendance.” She softened against him immediately, and he moaned at the feel of her. Couldn’t even give a fuck that she heard him. “If I ever see you seek permission from that cocksucker again, I don’t care what it’s for, you’ll regret it.” “Fuck you.” He couldn’t have been more surprised if she hauled off and punched him in the face. A laugh escaped before he could swallow it. She glared up at him with those mischievously slanted eyes and Alek forgot she was showing him her displeasure. All he got from the look was the connection. “You are hurting me.” He loosened his grip on her waist, even though he knew she couldn’t be in pain. He’d held her a hell of a lot tighter than this a time or two. If fact, he’d gripped her hard enough to leave marks as he’d positioned her and found his pleasure in her willing body. “Forgive me. I’m in defense mode,” he added in explanation. “If you’d like to change that, tell the boyfriend to fuck off. That’ll calm me down.” She looked at him as if she couldn’t believe he’d just said that. “I will do no such thing just to appease you. Maybe you should visit a psychiatrist or something. Learn how to control yourself. It might help in all aspects of your life, you jerk.” She kicked his ankle. She actually pulled her foot back and kicked his fucking ankle. Goddammit, he loved this woman. He preferred her submissive, but every once in a while, to have her meet his aggression like this was one hell of a turnon. “You’ve become a mercurial little thing, haven’t you?” Her jaw rippled. “Why did you want this dance, Alekzander? To pair it

with the meaningless conversation we had this morning? What do you want with me?” “I want everything with you.” She stared over his shoulder, her face like stone. Ten minutes ago, when she’d first seen him, she’d looked almost happy. “What happened?” “Fuck you. That is what happened.” He went from zero to sixty in less than a second. “If you tell me that once more, I’ll drag you into the nearest empty room, and I’ll do just that. I’ll fuck the ever loving hell out of you. Maybe if I give you a couple of orgasms, you’ll be pliant enough to shut your mouth and allow me to vindicate myself.” They weren’t dancing anymore but standing there staring at each other. Her expression was a beautiful combination of fury and desire because he’d made sure to speak in Russian so she’d understand every fucking word. “Excuse me. May I cut in?” They both turned to see Sheppard next to them, collected and full of all that control Alek seemed to have forgotten existed. Sacha tried to withdraw from his arms, but he held fast. He refrained from landing a crippling left to the lawyer’s square jaw only because he wouldn’t embarrass Sacha. And Eva, by association. “No,” he said bluntly. “I’m not finished with her yet, Sheppard. Go back and schmooze with your pals. If she absolutely insists, I’ll return her. Though that will be for her peace of mind only. I know she wouldn’t appreciate what people might say if she arrived here with one man but left with another.” He danced them away. “A-lek-zan-der! That was so rude,” she whispered fiercely, still in Russian. Why? So if they were overheard no one would know she was scolding him? Amazingly, he felt a spark of humor at that, and at how she’d stressed each syllable of his name. “He’s lucky I didn’t shoot him in the face for his gall.” Her jaw went slack as she gaped at him. “Nervy asshole. Who the fuck does he think he is to interrupt us?”

“He is my b-boyfriend!” His fingers clawed into her hip involuntarily. “Really? That was your implication earlier today, but you couldn’t quite get the words out. Now I see why. They didn’t sound at all convincing. Do you love him? Does he worship you the way I do? Do you look into his eyes while he’s buried deep in your body and know you’re where you belong? Does he spread you wide, open you up, and watch with utter fascination as you come apart for him? Does he celebrate that brief moment of complete satisfaction, and then take his time putting you back together again? Has he convinced you yet that you’re the reason his heart beats?” Her golden gaze became luminous. “How can you be such an awful person?” she whispered. “I do not understand how you can stand here and say these things to me? You should feel such shame. I am ashamed for you, Alekzander.” She pulled clean out of his arms and left him in the middle of the dance floor, where he was left to wonder what was so shameful about the way he loved her. He stood there and watched her disappear into the crowd. Hated that she was capable of leaving him. That it didn’t pain her, cripple her, to walk away. As it would have him. He barely reacted when his arms were suddenly full of female again. He looked down into his cousin’s concerned sapphire eyes. “Dance with us?” Eva said, her tone as kind as her smile. He looked around for Gabriel, the hair on his nape tingling with a whole lot of I-don’t-think-so. Was his friend so concerned for him that he would…? The big Italian was at the edge of the crowd, drink in hand, Quan and Jak at his sides. His eyes were hooded, trying not to show the sympathy he was feeling. Alek appreciated that. “You meant you and the baby.” Eva laughed, sounding a little breathless. “Yes. Gabriel isn’t overly concerned about what others think of him, but even he would have a problem

with something like that.” “No shit.” She grew serious as they began moving in a slow circle. “Would you like a woman’s point of view?” she asked before clearing her throat and pulling in a slow breath. She flashed a quick smile as she drew in another lungful. Figuring it was the pregnancy and dancing combo, he gave her a helpless shrug. Across the way, Markus caught his eye with a thumbs up. He nodded and looked around for Sacha. She was back at Sheppard’s side. Anton, Alek was pleased to see, was ten feet away from them. He nodded at Alek as if to say “she’s covered.” Guy needed a raise. “I should have waited until Markus found a private room before I approached her. I didn’t because when she saw me, she looked as if she was happy to see me. Couldn’t resist dancing with her. But once I got her out here, shit, she was hating on me worse than ever.” “She’s probably struggling because she loves you but hates what she thinks you did.” Eva blinked and shook her head in a manner that had Alek narrowing his eyes on her. He might have thought she was tossing her hair over her shoulder, but the dark mass was up in a twist of some sort. “Do you find it hot in here? I’m hot.” She glanced around and fanned herself for a second, smiling when she saw he was watching her. The expression seemed strained. And was it him, or was she leaning more heavily on him than she’d been a second ago? “You know, I thought I hated Gabriel a time or two before it became apparent I couldn’t live without him.” “Yeah,” he murmured distractedly. “That’s understandable.” He started in surprise when he felt a tiny nudge on his abs. He looked down to where their midsections couldn’t help but touch. “Did he just kick? I could have sworn he just gave me one for insulting his old man.” She patted her belly, looking proud. And ill. “Are you okay, Eva? You had a busy day today.” “I’m good.” She pinned a smile and animatedly gave him the short version

of her day. Call him a dick, but he couldn’t help but think she’d overdone things. No wonder G kept glaring at her. As inconspicuously as he could, he danced them through the crowd. By the time they were a few feet away from Gabriel, Alek could clearly see a sheen of sweat on Eva’s forehead, and she had a steady tremble running through her limbs. He locked eyes with her husband and gave him a severe frown as he tipped his chin down at Eva. Gabriel was beside them before he could blink. “All done?” he said, gently extracting her. “Yes.” Eva moved straight into her husband’s embrace. She appeared almost intoxicated. “I think he’s good now.” “Hey, did you drink the juice I brought you earlier? Or eat the fruit Jak left at the table?” Jak pulled a chair over so Gabriel could place her in it. They were against the wall, so at least they were out of the way of any foot-traffic. G squatted in front of her and bobbed his head to hold her swinging gaze. She was taking those deep breaths again. “Forgot. I think— Uh, I had— Dunno. I feel weak,” she murmured, her voice faint. “And shaky. Really shaky. I hate this.” As a few people craned their necks to watch, Quan disappeared with a quiet curse. Alek felt alarmingly clueless until he heard Gabriel’s next question. “Did you bring your glucose meter? Eva? Did you remember to bring it?” Before she could answer, Quan was back with a small black evening purse and a tall glass of orange juice. He shoved the bag at Gabriel and carefully took Eva’s hand to curl her fingers around the glass. He held it with her because the shake in her arm would have had the liquid sloshing over the rim. She took a drink. “Another,” Quan directed as Gabriel withdrew the needed supplies from Eva’s purse and pricked the pad of her pinkie on her free hand. She had more juice. “I can do that, Gabriel. Just give me a second to get my head on right.”

“Is everything okay, sir?” Quan looked up at the older woman when she was ignored by everyone else. She was dressed the same as the other staff but had a nametag that marked her as a manager. “Her sugar is low. She’ll be fine in a few minutes. Thanks for your concern.” “Jesus Christ.” Gabriel raised his head from reading the monitor, his eyes clouded with fear and anger. The manager left without another word, as did the few people who’d been trying to see around the wall of muscle surrounding the patient. Guess diabetes wasn’t interesting enough to linger over. Or maybe it was Gabriel’s attitude that caused them to scatter. He was glaring at his wife as he tapped the juice glass for Quan to raise it again. He put the meter back into her bag. “Three-point-eight, Eva?” he gritted out, his jaw set and locked. “You can consider this your notice. You’ve just been locked out of your office until we get a fucking handle on this.” He muttered a few curses under his breath, switching to Italian, but despite his upset, his big hand was nothing but tender as it stroked the side of her belly. “I think you must be rubbing off on him.” In direct contrast to Gabriel’s, Quan’s tone was soothing as he tipped the glass at her lips again. “If you weren’t loopy, you might even be proud of him because his reaction is dialed way down. One more. That’s a girl.” Eva didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him—her loosely focused eyes were on Gabriel. “Though I suppose we shouldn’t praise him until we make it to the car and all the witnesses have disappeared, hmm? All done. Good girl.” He placed the empty glass on the table and looked at the Patek Philippe on his wrist. “Couple more minutes and you’ll be good as new.” “Move it, Nurse Betty,” Gabriel grumbled as he rose and rather affectionately elbowed Quan out of the way. He leaned in, and without much effort, lifted his wife from the chair. He curled her into his chest, and if there was anything that would have proven Eva wasn’t herself, it was her allowing her

husband to carry her out of a room filled with women she dealt with on a professional level every day. She didn’t make a peep. She simply laid her head on that block of a shoulder and closed her eyes—trusting she’d be cared for. It was a beautiful sight. “Get us a car,” Gabriel said to Jak, who gave a clipped nod and took off with his phone pressed to his ear. “No need.” Lucian appeared and waved Jak back before he could get far. “Mine is already at the curb. It can take you where you need to go. What’s wrong?” Lucian’s regular muscle, a nasty-looking sonofabitch named Sorin was at his back, looking as if an invisible wire connected them. Markus had also come over, and even though all wore identical frowns, Markus’s was that much deeper because he and Eva had grown close over the last six months since they worked together every day. Gabriel quickly recapped while—imagining Eva was going to come around soon and become self-conscious—Alek waved them toward the exit. He went first, creating a path through the crowd, and they hit the near-empty lobby in no time. He turned on Gabriel. “What the fuck is this? I had no idea this was happening.” He waved a hand over Eva’s prone body. “Why didn’t either of you share this information? What if you weren’t here?” he whispered fiercely as a couple passed by. “I wouldn’t have had a fucking clue what was wrong with her. Is she on insulin?” “What the hell happened?” Vasily pushed into the group, bringing with him the sweet scent of cigar. Gabriel rubbed his jaw on the top of his wife’s dark head. “Sugar,” he said to his father-in-law before responding to Alek. “Yes, she is. We’ll talk tomorrow. I want to get her home.” “Christ Almighty,” Vasily muttered as he laid his inked hand over his daughter’s forehead. “You’re so much like your mother it’s infuriating.”

Eva smiled shakily, and as though it were meant as a compliment, she murmured, “Thank you.” When she closed her eyes, tears hovered on her lashes. Alek leaned in and kissed her on her damp temple. Fuck. He was spooked by her uncharacteristic lethargy. “You scared the shit out of me.” “Sorry.” She didn’t open her eyes. “I’m still trying to get used to having to be more careful.” She was rubbing her belly and seemed to be talking to the baby more than anyone. Lucian waved forward a guy who was either wearing Kevlar or who spent a lot of time at the gym. “This is Isaac. He will take you. Do not hurry back,” he said to his driver before turning to Alek. “Are you planning on leaving?” Vasily, who’d been ready to go with his daughter, sent the others off and hung back after hearing the question. Alek’s nape got tight at the tension that suddenly sat between them all. “No. I have personal business here.” Lucian nodded once and made a quiet sound that could have meant anything before turning away and disappearing back into the ballroom. “I’m not privy to the information,” Markus said with his hands upraised when Vasily gave him an inquiring look. “Why didn’t you tell me she was dealing with this?” Alek demanded, going back to Eva. “Either of you. You obviously knew, if your lack of surprise is anything to go by,” he said to Markus. “You know Eva, she doesn’t want the attention that comes with it,” Vasily explained. Markus added, “Gabriel told me—without her knowledge—so that if he wasn’t around at the office, I’d be able to keep an eye on her in case something like this happened. I’ve heard the reminder on her phone go off. She curses worse than her husband because she’s forgotten to stick her finger and fill in the chart her doctor gave her.” “Her mother was type two.” Vasily was looking into the ballroom, his gaze unfocused. “Since diabetes is genetic, Eva made sure to let her obstetrician

know to keep an eye. We’re just hoping it remains gestational because that means it will disappear after she has the baby.” Alek felt like a dunce because he’d never heard of the condition. But then, why would he be aware of something like that? It wasn’t as if he’d personally known many pregnant women in his lifetime. “I remember Kathryn used to inject insulin right into a pinched portion of skin on her belly,” Vasily murmured. “She didn’t like it when I told her I’d rather deal with a decapitation than watch her do that.” He had a small smile on his face as he walked away. “Think they have any idea how it freaks us out when they speak so casually about the unspeakables?” Markus’s hazel eyes were laughing, showing he wasn’t all that bothered. Alek slapped his boy on the back and led him into the ballroom for another hit of misery. “I’m sure it’s all part of the fun.”

FOURTEEN With her head pounding and her limbs still weak from the adrenaline that had filled her after her altercation with Alekzander, Sacha gave up pretending to be unaffected and tapped Justin’s arm. “I am going to use the restroom,” she whispered as the people around them continued to discuss a Republican senator who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. All Sacha was getting from the conversation was a craving for Oreos. “Would you like me to go with you?” Justin looked around. “I lost sight of him.” “He had a prior engagement,” she muttered, picturing him and the blonde wrapped around each other. “I will not be long.” She didn’t bother smiling or offering an excuse to the others. She simply drifted away. It was no wonder Justin hadn’t wanted to come alone tonight. Though what her being here did for him she wasn’t sure. Could be he was still faking the boy/girl dating for his father’s sake. As she walked through the crowd, hearing snatches of conversations here and there, Sacha vowed to watch more CNN. She was out of touch. She and Alekzander used to spend an hour on the paper every day, him speeding to the last page, her going much more slowly as she navigated through unfamiliar words. He’d always been so patient about her constant inquiries. Now, spending her days chatting with babies made it unnecessary for her to follow the depressing things going on in the world. But it also made her uninformed. As she left the ballroom and traveled down the wide corridor, her heels tapping, a dark shape appeared right in her path. She jerked to a stop just before impact. “Excuse me.” She looked up. “I am sor—” Alekzander.

“Let’s try this once more, shall we?” He grasped her arm and tugged her back the way she’d come. But instead of going to the main room, he pulled her through a swinging door and down another corridor. This one empty and echoing. She yanked on her arm and protested the entire way, and didn’t even care that a man she remembered as Alekzander’s friend and employee was walking in front of them as if leading the way. “Let me go! You are such a trouble-maker! Why are you doing this? Why now? I do not want to talk to you!” Especially alone! Markus opened a door and winked at her as she was taken through. She wanted to slap him for not coming to the aid of a helpless woman. They crossed an empty reception area and aimed for a set of closed double doors made of glass. “So don’t talk,” Alekzander drawled. “I need to say my piece, and you’re going to listen.” “I do not want to hear you.” “Too bad.” “Let me go,” she snarled. “Or I will…I will scream.” He stopped. “If you do anything to prevent this from happening, I’ll have Maks let loose a virus that will compromise every fucking electronic file Sheppard, Lupin, and Sheppard has in their system. There must be millions.” She stomped her foot in frustration as he threatened Justin’s firm. “Stop this, you big bully! Why would you do that to him? He has done nothing to you.” He looked her directly in the eye. “He. Is. With. You.” If she were a better person, she’d have told him the truth right then. She didn’t because she was mean and hurting, and she wanted him to feel the same pain she felt when he exchanged keys with women Sacha could never hope to compete with. She wanted to hack away at him the way he kept hacking at her. And at the same time, she didn’t. She swallowed convulsively to get past the lump rising in her throat. Until

this man had come into her life, she’d done okay. Yes, she’d struggled under the weight of her grief after her parents had died, as anyone would, but she’d rallied and began to build a life for herself worlds away from where she’d grown up. She’d been an average, sane person. Now? She felt as if she were a sniveling, mean-spirited puppet, her emotions and physical reactions so easily dictated by a man who’d brutally disrespected her. And there was nothing she could do to prevent it from happening again and again because she would always gravitate toward him. Even now, his appeal was almost impossible to ignore. “You cannot do something to Justin’s family’s law firm, Alekzander. That is not fair.” “I can do anything I goddamn please.” His voice was laced with conviction. A new superiority was there, too, and it had a weighty darkness to it she couldn’t help but find disconcerting. He tipped his head toward the door. “Coming?” No. But I remember how spectacular it was when we got there together. She gasped, and he got a clear view of her shock as that stupid thought flitted through her mind. “What?” he asked suspiciously. She held herself still and felt her cheeks begin to heat. “Nothing.” “That didn’t sound like nothing,” he insisted. That’s because it hadn’t been nothing. It had been something. Something so amazing. The perfect way his mouth had fit over her, the way he’d used just the right amount of suction even while his tongue had done its magic. Then the way he would rear up and enter her just before she came apart… She shook her head and forced herself not to push her thighs together to quell the ache that had sprung up. What was wrong with her? “Sacha…” “You said you wanted to talk,” she forced out. “So talk.” With his lips tightening, he took her arm again and led the way into a much smaller room than the one they’d be eating dinner in—if they ever got

around to it. It was silent and shadowed with only one chandelier lit, and that was in the far corner. They came to a stop next to an uncovered table and two stacks of chairs. She jumped when the door closed. Looking back, she saw Markus standing guard on the other side of the glass. Anton was now next to him. “You remember Markus? And Anton you met yesterday.” She nodded and attempted to extract her arm. Alekzander wouldn’t release her. It was one thing to feel muddled when near him. But when he touched her, she became lost. As wrong as it was, as humiliating as it was, he touched her, and she craved more. She didn’t want him merely gripping her arm. She wanted him to draw her in, caress her back, his hands to travel down. She wanted him to cup her ass cheeks and drag her against him the way he used to do. She’d been such a different person with him. So open. So free. So physical. I miss who I was then. “You’re going to stand here and allow me to touch you now.” She took a step back as self-preservation kicked in. He followed and made it so she couldn’t take another. “I won’t go too far. I just need to feel you as I talk.” Warning bells clanged in her head. “I do not want—” “Shh. Enough with the lies. I can see in your eyes exactly what you want. But then you start thinking again.” He bent and lightly skimmed his nose across her cheek as he inhaled deeply. His lips touched her jaw and a small sound of desperation escaped her. She leaned back, half-heartedly trying to pull away, but at the same time gripping his tuxedo jacket at his waist so she couldn’t get very far. She wanted to pull him in and rub all over him. At the same time, she felt the need to shove him away so hard. She wanted to have the strength to put him through the wall. To break him. The way he’d broken her. In the end, her head aching with confusion, she pushed him away and

accepted the cold that enveloped her. “I am afraid I cannot play the mindless bimbo for you. Maybe the woman whose key is in your pocket will satisfy your craving for obedience.” His confusion was apparent as his arms fell to his sides. “What are you talking about?” His indulgent tone scraped her nerves raw. “The blonde woman who would make Barbie sit in front of a mirror and cry. I saw you accept her key minutes before you forced me to dance with you.” “Sydney? Maks was in the middle of something, so he asked her to bring me the key to my truck. She’s the distraction I was telling you he found. The one with the kids.” Surprise was followed by the warmest sense of relief Sacha had ever experienced. “She carried a child in that body?” she blurted before she could stop herself. How unfair! “Oh. Oh, dear.” The things she’d said to him on the dancefloor came back to her. The beautiful things he’d said to her. “I was so rude to you. I am sorry. I thought she was another of your girlfriends.” He winced. “I don’t have girlfriends, Sacha. I told you, it wasn’t real. I actually paid that girl the night you saw me. I paid her a thousand fucking dollars to play the part of my lover. I touched her only enough to make it look convincing. But none of it was real. I did not have sex with her.” Her remorse died, and before she threw it into his face, she placed her evening bag on the table. “I do not believe you when you tell me that. Would you like to know why? Because I saw you. I saw your hand on the skin of her bare thigh as you held her. I saw how she was enjoying your body. She was not faking that. I heard her. I still hear her, Alekzander. Why would you lie when you know I was right there? I was there! You looked at me, and you did nothing as I stood there and bled to death!” she screamed. As the echo of her voice faded, her panting breaths filled her ears as surely as tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away as he shook his head, his face tortured.

“I am so fucking sorry.” His whisper was more powerful than if he’d matched her shout. “For all of it. Goddammit, I’ll never be able to verbalize the scope of my regret. Not if I had a million years.” His hands were out, his tone imploring. She looked at the way his dark blond hair fell over his forehead. At the silver streaks interspersed in the iridescent blue of his eyes that appeared bruised, as if he no longer slept well. At the shape and softness of his firm lips. Her hands itched to touch him and she wanted to cut them off. She was drowning in agony, and she still wanted to reach for him. To draw comfort even while she offered it. When he shoved a hand through his hair to push it back—a pointless habit he’d always had—revealing his face in all its beauty. She died that much more. He appeared to brace himself before saying, “You have to know that Sergei lost Renee and Evan the day before I ruined you and me. I didn’t tell you when they were first taken because I didn’t want to frighten you. The assumption was, we’d get them back and things would be fine. It didn’t work out that way.” He was doing it again. Openly speaking about “that” part of his life. There had been countless references made, code words, silent, meaningful looks exchanged between him and his uncle. But never a direct, open statement about a particular situation. With goosebumps flowing down from her nape, she absently went to reach for her bag to silence the vibration of her phone. Alekzander gave her a severe look meant to pin her in place. It worked. “I was with Sergei when he got the call from a member of the Baikov organization.” She locked her knees when that jerked the strength from her muscles. She had no trouble remembering the rivalry between the Bratvas. She’d been warned time and again the Baikov family wasn’t to be trusted. Not the women, children, and especially not the men. “Never have I seen a man so tortured. And it never left; that expression in

his eyes remained the entire time we pulled shit together and tried to get his wife and son back from those cocksuckers. When we failed, I reacted.” Just that suddenly, Sacha didn’t want to know anymore. She pictured Sergei’s wife; a cheerful brunette. And his son; a quiet, intelligent boy. Since they’d come from Russia only a few years before her, there had been an instant connection. But because they’d lived outside the city, Sacha and Renee hadn’t spent as much time together as they’d have liked. But Sacha had still missed them when things had fallen apart. “We failed to get to them in time, and they were brutalized and sent back to Sergei in pieces. I remember sitting in his kitchen and Reynard coming in with delivery boxes. I’ll never forget it. UPS.” His voice grew rough. “Those sonsofbitches sent them back by UPS. Hearing the sounds he made— Sacha, I stood there and watched my cousin’s hysterics as he scrambled to put his family back together again. He eventually fell to the ground, holding their hands—” He stopped and coughed, his eyes squeezing shut as he turned away to scrape his palm over his face. He was quiet for a long moment, and then a harsh laugh pushed from his throat. He came back around to look at her. “I couldn’t risk you. I wouldn’t. I came home afterward, I loved you as hard as I fucking could for one more night, and then I got you the hell away from me. I couldn’t get rid of you fast enough. I didn’t think any further than wanting to keep you safe from something like that ever happening to you.” On legs that felt like rubber, Sacha stood in the shadowy room, silently crying over the tragedy even as a cowering sliver of hope worked itself free of the tangled mess in her heart. It wanted to break through the sadness his story caused but couldn’t. The horror of it was just too great. “Why did you not tell me?” she eventually asked. “Renee was my friend. And Evan… I did not even know they were gone.” He shrugged, the action helpless. “I didn’t think,” he repeated. “I just reacted in the worst possible way. But I did not have sex with that fucking woman. I couldn’t have. Not with anyone but you. I swear on my uncle’s life,

I’ve never looked beyond you, Sacha.” She stepped forward and reached up to cup his cheeks, everything in her wanting to soothe the pain radiating from him. A low-level buzz shot through her at the first voluntary contact she’d had with him in so long. As the day’s growth along his jaw prickled her palms, something cracked and a small beam of light filtered into her dark world. “I am so sorry for you. If it is suitable, please give Sergei my most heartfelt condolences. To your uncle, as well.” He closed his eyes and said something too quietly for her to hear. Then louder, “Thank fuck you believe me.” She balked. Should she believe him? She wouldn’t have thought to only minutes ago. But he’d swayed her with his sincerity. She’d never understood how he could have done what he’d done to them, and his explanation simply made so much sense to her. This was more in keeping with the “them” she’d known. Was she being naïve because she so desperately wanted to believe their love had been real? She made to remove her hands, but he covered them with his before she could. “No. Stay. Please.” “I…I did believe you, yes,” she murmured, giving in because she couldn’t bring herself to move away. “But now that you say that.” She gulped and nervously licked her lips when she saw his attention settle on them. “Are you lying to me, Alekzander?” “No, angel. I’m not lying. You don’t know what it did to me to drive you away like that. I never should have done it. I hurt you…let you walk out of my office…you left our home…my life. And it killed me. It fucking killed me to let you go because you’re mine.” Joy tried to break free as her fingertips traced over his cheeks. She was touching him again. “I will admit that I would lie my ass off to get to you.” His gaze was all

over her face. “But I’m not. Not about this. From the moment you came into my life…” He paused and cursed. “From the moment you came into my life, it’s been you, and will always be you. I’m not here tonight asking for your forgiveness…” He paused again. “Not asking, I’m demanding. I need you to forgive me for being such a fucking coward. For not accepting how far I would go to protect you. For not realizing there isn’t a line I wouldn’t cross if it meant keeping you safe.” His image blurred, and she blinked quickly to clear it. She wasn’t sure what was more beautiful; the things he was saying, the low rumble of his voice, or the shape his lips took when he said you. It looked as if he were puckering for a— “Sacha?” Her gaze flipped up from his mouth. “Yes?” That groove in his cheek made an appearance, but it was gone before she could fully appreciate it. “Goddammit, I want your mouth so badly.” He distractingly ran his knuckle over the curve of her chin. “You do?” Take it. He nodded and opened his hand to whisper the tips of his fingers down the side of her neck. “Give it to me. Then maybe I’ll be able to think. I’ll happily beg if that will please you.” She had the strongest urge to smile but swallowed hard instead. Her insides melted when he traced the movement with the pad of his thumb. Her head spun as the familiar sensations that came with his touch invaded her. “So soft.” His face was closer to hers than it had been a moment ago. “At your own pace. I’ll wait for you.” So…sweet. And, God, but he smelled divine. She inhaled apples and a mouthwatering scent that was his alone. How was she supposed to resist this when he’d just exonerated himself? “You smell of apples,” she murmured. He brought his forehead to rest on hers, and his mouth opened, his

exhalations sounding labored all of a sudden. “Had one on the way over. You shouldn’t have picked up on that.” “Green?” She couldn’t have said how many apple cores she’d found around their apartment. She’d joined him in the shower once, and he’d had to set a half-eaten Granny Smith in the soap dish to free up his hands. “Red,” he rasped. “Like your mouth. That I want. Now.” I need this. I need this from him. Just a little bit of him. Before her brain could send out the order, she was moving in, her hands going inside his jacket, hesitantly spreading over his ribs. “That’s it, angel,” he murmured when their hips brushed together. “Come to me.” She wavered and drew back slightly until she could see him, but she already knew she’d never be able to fight this. He held himself still, as if afraid to move. And like the lonely, scared girl she was, she allowed herself to seek peace and shelter from the one who’d always effortlessly provided it. She stood on her toes and softly meshed their lips together. He’d often allowed her to make her move, prodded her into making it. But in the end, he would take over, and she would happily bow to his will. He did that now. His groan scorched over her, and then everything about him softened, became smooth as silk, his touch heated and sure. His mouth opened, and their tongues met. She moaned because his taste was so precious, so familiar, liquefying her body and causing her skin to sizzle. She came alive. And he was the reason. How could he possibly think she’d become involved with another man? How could she after having experienced this? Him. He directed her by taking her hands from his face and sending them up, showing her he wanted them around his neck. She got them there and made a sound of surprise when he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her clear off her feet. With their bodies pressed together, and with her now up high

enough, she went even further by cradling his head as she hungrily ate at his mouth. She took more pride in the rough sound of his approval than was wise. “My angel,” he murmured against her. “You’re just as I remember. So fucking sweet.” He licked into her mouth, and she closed her lips on his tongue. She sucked gently, and he made a dark sound. His palm pressed just above her tailbone until she couldn’t help but feel the extent of his arousal. His shaft was long and hard against her belly, and she found herself wanting it between her legs, inside her, deep and pounding steadily, stretching her with its thickness. He tunneled his fingers into the hair at her nape, and grabbing a handful, tipped her head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. Her hands were sliding over his broad shoulders to reach his back so she could pull him tighter. The straps of his gun harness barely registered. The only thing she was aware of was she couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t feel him enough. That made her desperate for more, and she didn’t care. Wasn’t selfconscious about it. Because this was Alekzander. Her lifeline. This was why she hadn’t been living. Because she’d been deprived of this. “You like?” he asked in Russian as he nipped at her lips, and then her jaw and down the column of her throat. He sealed his mouth to her pulse point and drew hard on her skin, making her gasp. “I like,” she replied in the same. Just as they used to do. “What would be better?” “If we were naked,” she answered automatically, effortlessly falling into the past. “Fuck, yes,” he whispered fiercely, and then his tongue was in her mouth again, his fingers tickling as they climbed her ribs. He growled. “I need to touch you before I go fucking crazy.” “Yes,” she breathed, giving permission without thought. Her body was his. Always. Had he not been holding her, she’d have ended up on the floor when his hand passed over her shoulder, traced down her spine, came around her ribs and

finally covered her aching breast. He squeezed it firmly, making her wish she was bared to him. She wanted to be in his mouth. She wanted him sucking on her— Sacha’s eyes sprung wide, and she jerked back so hard she startled him into losing his grip. She pulled away from him the second her feet touched the floor, and stumbled on her heels, throwing her arms out to gain her balance. A warm, wetness spread as they stared at each other, their chests rising and falling swiftly. “Sacha…” He reached for her, but she put up a hand to hold him off. He dropped his arm, his expression puzzled. The warmth continued to seep out, the ache in breasts subsiding as her milk began to flow. Lekzi. Sacha’s body had taken the sexual stimulation and turned it into a basic time-to-feed-the-baby. Alekzander’s baby. That he knew nothing about. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone so fast.” She brought her hands to her cheeks and tried to deny it. The effervescent joy bubbling inside her was smothered as the true horror of her situation was exposed. With this one conversation, this one wonderful cleansing interaction between them, she was no longer the injured party; she was the villain. The only villain. Alekzander was innocent of all but trying to protect her because he loved her. But she, with full knowledge and so much pain-fueled malice, had kept his child a secret from him. “Oh, Alekzander,” she whispered as she inconspicuously pressed her arms against her breasts to try to make them behave. “What have I done?” “Nothing. It was only a kiss.” His jaw was tight as he glanced back toward the door, but he continued to speak through it. “Don’t look like that. I shouldn’t have pushed for it.” “Please, stop.” He loved her. He’d always loved her. So much so that she was quite sure he was apologizing because he thought she was upset about being

unfaithful to a gay man she was only pretending to see romantically. “Oh, my God. This is—Oh, my God,” she repeated as she barely refrained from falling to her knees and screaming about the unfairness of it all. “I must tell you something.” She shoved aside her fear about how severely he would punish her. And not only him but his uncle. She closed the distance between them and lifted one of his big hands. She gorged herself on the desire she could still see swimming in his eyes behind the curiosity and anger. She brought his palm up to rub on her cheek, closing her eyes and savoring the connection she was starved for. “I must tell you. But before I do, promise me you will try to understand how I felt. Please, Alekzander,” she begged as his expression grew more confused. And then wary. She stood on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth, in case she never got the chance again. “Please know I never would have dreamed you would come to me like this. With the truth. I thought I knew the truth.” “Sacha, what are you talking about?” “The night I came to your office, I was going to tell—” They both looked over when the door burst open and Maksim stormed in, his expression thunderous. Without hesitating, Sacha ducked behind Alekzander, seeking protection from that savage look. His hand pressed against her outer thigh and squeezed reassuringly. “Maks. What the fuck are you doing? Give us a few more min—” “No.” Maksim didn’t let him finish. “This can’t wait.” He glared beyond Alekzander, his silver eyes livid as they found hers. He knew. He knew about Lekzi! “No!” She reached out when he handed Alekzander his phone. “Let me tell him. Please!” Maksim jerked the phone back and shook his head, his lips curled menacingly. She didn’t try again.

Alekzander moved over to cover her fully. “What the fuck are you doing, brother?” he growled. Without a word, Maksim shoved his phone under Alekzander’s nose. “Read.” He looked suspiciously between her and Maksim before bending his head. As he read, Sacha watched his profile. His eyes flared wide, his skin paled. His jaw tightened, and his chest started to rise and fall with choppy breaths. She cupped her hands over her mouth and pressed her lips together to stifle a wail. Oh, no, no, no… His head came up and swiveled in her direction in the eeriest of ways. What she saw then petrified her. Put to shame everything she’d felt this past year. She’d been sulking. He was enraged.

FIFTEEN Hospital records. Alek looked down at Maks’s phone again, and another shockwave tore through his system. He felt it travel up from his feet to his hair roots as if he were standing in water and holding a live wire. He tried like hell to make sense of what he was reading, but his mind was reeling at the speed with which he’d gone from euphoric to…this. “The dates work,” Maks said, his tone gentler now that he wasn’t snarling at Sacha. “Explains the fear in her eyes, the alias, the daycare, why she fell off the map entirely.” Because she’d gone into hiding. He lifted his pounding head and looked at Sacha. Looked at her body. “A child?” The guilt surrounding her was almost palpable. If he reached out, he’d have been able to touch it. He smelled it. Tasted it. Like scorched tar, the shit burned his throat so badly his eyes watered. She’d had a baby? His baby. He looked at the phone again. A girl? He reread the info as an alarming pressure began to build within him. DOB: April 23rd. Time: 19:42. Weight: 8 pounds, 6 ounces. Length: 20 inches. “I have…a daughter?” The pressure became intense, heavy, suffocating. Sacha now held her clasped hands under her chin. A chin that had tears

dripping off it from the tracks coming down her smooth cheeks. The liquid ran over her knuckles and down her dainty wrist. She stepped forward as he tried to blink away the little explosions marring his vision. “I was going to tell you. Please let me expl—” “Do I have a daughter?” His roar bounced off the walls, and she tripped over herself to back up, her tears coming faster. He almost laughed. Her system wouldn’t be able to keep up with the moisture that would flow from those eyes before he was done with her. Another second passed, and then her nod hit him like a wrecking ball. It smashed to pieces the image he had of his perfect angel. The one he needed to have of her. The one that made him strive to be good enough for her. The sound of the door opening behind him barely registered. “Get her out of here,” he said to Maks without looking away from her. “Get her out of this room before I do something we’ll all regret.” “Alekzander,” she tried again. “Now,” he whispered fiercely. Without a word, Maks grabbed her purse and her elbow. But before he could get her the fuck to safety, Sacha yank way from him. “No. I will not go away. No more. I let you explain yourself, and now you will let me do the same.” His rasping breaths locked in his throat as his heart split wide open. His head spun and his eyes burned as they blurred. He was going up in flames. Flames of betrayal. Brutal, harsh, calculated betrayal. Brought on by who? The love of his life. The mother of his child. Sacha had carried his daughter in her body for nine months. She’d given birth, cared for and raised his fucking child since April. It was December. His daughter. A black rage slithered through him searching for something to consume as he pictured Eva as she’d been earlier, patting her belly, pride shining from her

eyes over her unborn son’s antics. He locked out how sickly she’d looked in Gabriel’s arms only minutes later. Sacha had chosen to keep this a secret. Had deliberately and calculatedly kept this from him. She’d allowed another man into her life. Alek had missed almost eight months of his child’s life while another man had talked to, played with, fed, rocked, held her. Justin Sheppard had not only been fucking Alek’s woman. He’d been helping to raise Alek’s daughter. His eyes felt as though they were glowing red as he looked at her, and he didn’t think it possible, but his fury grew exponentially. “My daughter was being contaminated in an apartment with a cardboard fucking door and no locks on the goddamn windows for more than seven fucking months!” His booming voice bounced off the walls. Sacha winced and took another step back, and that’s when Sheppard came into view. Even though he was in a tux, just as Alek was, the guy looked different. He was wearing aggression and a willingness to tangle that didn’t go with the polished attorney façade. When he moved in front of Sacha as though she was his to protect, something inside Alek went nuts. “Get the fuck away from her!” He lunged, ready to tear the bastard’s neck open, but was nailed in the side by a heavy weight that shoved him off balance. He came to a dead stop when his shoulder hit the wall. Leather and the manly smell of motor oil filled his nostrils. “You don’t touch my brother any more than I would touch yours, friend.” Vex. The President of the Obsidian Devil’s Motorcycle Club was pressed against him only long enough for him to get that out before he was hammered forward, away from Alek. Maks plowed the big guy into the wall and landed a punch to the biker’s face that must have broken a knuckle the crack was so loud. Vex returned the love with a rib shot that would have taken down a lesser man. “Deal with that.”

“Dmitri.” Lucian and Vasily’s voices came from behind, and Sorin and Dmitri swept by, each clamping their pythons over their respective boys before any real damage could be done. As Alek wondered where the fuck everyone had come from, he straightened his tux and lost his steam because Sacha had moved closer to him. She was shaking her head and motioning Sheppard to stay where he was on his side of the two chairs now separating them. Dmitri yanked Maks over and shoved him behind Vasily. The byki was only inches shorter than their friendly giant and just as deadly, but even so, Maks came because Maks wanted to come. If it had been his choice, he could have unsheathed Angelina from his back and carved half of them up before anyone got a shot off. “Let’s not go there again,” Vasily said to Maks. “You’re both playing out the same scene, and it’s redundant. He’s protecting his brother. You’re protecting yours. Leave it be.” He touched Alek’s shoulder. “What’s happened here?” Maks plunked his ass on the edge of the table and held out a hand to draw Sydney into his side when Micha sent her into the room before closing the door again. The Australian’s concerned gaze was on Sacha. Vex, who’d been spending a lot of time with the Romanian’s lately, jerked his cut down as he engaged in a fist bump and back slap with Sheppard. “The next time you find yourself in a sitch like this, the call I get better come from you. Understand?” “Who did the call come from?” Sheppard asked. Lucian spoke up. “I thought it only fair you have someone at your back since Alek is so well covered.” “That mean I’m forgiven?” the attorney asked with a mildly hopeful note in his voice. The question clued them all into a history between the two. Lucian appeared not to have heard anyone speak, and Justin sighed and said to his brother, “I know you do business with Kirov and didn’t want to jeopardize that.”

“That’s business. You’re family.” Vex chopped him on the hip hard enough for it to have hurt. “And you better get your fuckin’ head out of that hole Dad’s wedged it in. You’re not in a fuckin’ courtroom where people have to play by the rules. This is real life. You lived it, for Christ’s sake. Did you forget that? You’re lucky you have this one in your corner.” He pointed his thumb at Lucian. “You are in his corner, right?” he said as an afterthought. “Because if you’re not, that speech was…what was that word?” he asked Vasily. “Redundant?” He nodded and turned back to Lucian. “You gonna make my shit redundant?” Lucian gave Vasily a bland look. “So well named, this one.” Vex smirked. Like Maks, the guy didn’t take things too seriously. “The tension in this room leads me to believe we missed something monumental,” Lucian said as he stepped to the side and offered his hand and a mildly friendly expression to Sacha. “Lucian Fane. I remember meeting you, but it was some time ago.” Sacha wiped her hand on her dress before shaking his. Her face was still tear-stained but diffident, proving she remembered who he was. “Sacha Urusski. Nice to see you again.” Lucian’s smile became genuine, and he turned it on Vasily. “I hope this works out for you.” He nodded to Sorin and went for the door. “But I won’t pretend I’m not relieved this is your problem and not mine. Even though I am working on it for Markus, I still find all this emotion tedious as hell.” A low groan by the door said Markus was present, and that forced Lucian to clip on, “I hope no one takes offense to that.” And if they did, who gave a fuck was what his bearing said as he paused in front of his little brother. The distance went out of his eyes, and a warm affection came through as he planted a kiss on Markus’s temple. “Can you make dinner on Monday?” Markus winced. “Monday isn’t good.” “Wednesday?” “I have tentative meetings scheduled in Houston mid-week.”

“Friday?” Lucian’s voice was going lower with each day he suggested. “How about next Sunday?” The Romanian turned and scowled at Alek as if he was at fault for Markus’s lack of availability. “He makes his own schedule,” Alek muttered, wishing they’d all fuck off. “Very well. Next Sunday. Shall I have Daria and Gheorghe join us?” “No. Just you and me.” “All right.” Lucian sounded surprised that Markus didn’t want their cousins included. Pleasantly surprised, even though they were all pretty close. “I look forward to it.” “Markus.” Alek picked up Sacha’s purse that Maks had tossed onto a chair. He offered it to her, making her approach him to take it. “If you’d like to go, feel free. We’re heading out now, too.” As the seconds ticked by, the urgency crawling up his spine was growing. He had a child, and he wanted to meet her. The hows and whys could wait. “Thanks for your help tonight. And if you’d be so kind,” he said to Lucian. “Would you take the brothers with you? As you said, this is a family issue, and they’re no relation of mine.” Lucian looked at Sacha. “Would you rather Justin stayed for moral support?” She shook her head. “No, thank you. This is my issue, and I have brought him enough trouble.” She had the gall to go to the attorney after a quick glance at Alek, and give him a hug and what looked to be rather a sisterly kiss on the cheek. “I will call you tomorrow.” “No, you won’t.” Her head swung Alek’s way, her lips flattening. “Go. I will be fine,” she insisted to Sheppard when he snorted under his breath. “I can stay. This isn’t trouble compared to where I’ve been.” “Word,” Vex said under his breath. Alek’s interest was piqued hearing that, even more so when Sacha frowned as if she didn’t understand what Sheppard was talking about. Had he

not opened up to her? Told her about his past? She shook her head. “Go.” “Vex. Justin.” Lucian showed them the door. “Let’s not linger.” Alek didn’t watch them leave, but he did hear Justin tell Sacha to get in touch when she could. In that moment, Alek knew the lawyer wasn’t in love with her. He might care for her, but he didn’t love her. Had he, both he and Alek would be bleeding by now. Then he and Sacha were left with only Vasily, Maks, and Sydney. Sacha came to him, her shoulders squared. “What will you do with me?” she asked outright. An image of what he’d kill to do with her right then slammed into him. Oh, how he would punish her during the act. He buried the thought. How the hell could he still want her in his bed after this? “I don’t know. My mind is changing by the minute. One thing is for certain, though.” He locked onto those glittering gold orbs and leaned in until he had a hell of a time blocking the toasted coconut and sun-drenched orchids that filled his head. “Your life as you know it is over. From this moment on…I own you.” Footsteps preceded his uncle coming between Alek and his new possession. Mmm. Yes. She was all his, to do with as he pleased. Because if he knew Sacha, he knew there was nothing short of death that would separate her from any child of hers. And since their daughter—holy fucking shit—would never again be separated from Alek, neither would her mother. “Get your disrespectful ass back,” his uncle gritted out. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He waved Sydney forward. “Please take Sacha to the restroom. I’m sure she would like to splash some water on her face.” He quieted Sacha’s protest by shaking his head and pointing to the door. “Go with them,” he ordered Maks. “Give me your phone before you do,” Alek said to Maks, taking the cell when it was handed over. The second they were alone, Vasily started. “Why the fuck am I watching

you disrespect her and our family name again? The last time, I’m ashamed to say I let it go. I can’t do that again. I don’t think you quite understand what you did to that girl the last time you were together, so let me paint a picture for you.” He jerked a chair over. Alek shook his head. “Can’t sit.” “Fine.” The chair was tossed across the room. It came to a stop with one of the legs imbedded in the wall. “Dmitri tracked her through the cab company she used when she left your home for the last time. She ended up at a small hotel just off the 59th Street Bridge.” Alek knew that because Maks had found her in the same place. “When she opened the door to me, I’ve never been so ashamed of my name, my gender; ashamed of the very genes we Tarasov men carry that make us treat the precious women in our lives with such cruelty. Sacha was a young, insecure girl who worshipped the goddamn ground you walked on in the most honest, open way. She was a pleasure to be around. Not that day.” He jammed his hands into his pockets as he began pacing. “She stood in that grungy little room, shaking, her teeth chattering. She kept making these quiet, pained sounds. Her cheeks were raw from wiping at her tears, her eyes swollen. She looked as if she’d been mauled by death but hadn’t been lucky enough for him to finish the job.” He grimaced. “Polite as ever, she invited me in, and like an insensitive fool, I made the mistake of mentioning your name. She broke right in front of me. When she gathered her composure, I insulted the hell out of her by offering the only thing I could; money. A new start. She refused, and I walk away.” Remorse clouded the room, coming from both of them. It subdued Vasily’s voice, and tempered Alek’s anger. It forced him to see his part in all of this. “It haunts me that I left a young girl with no father, no male figure to stand for her. I have stepped in and supported so many in her shoes, young men and women who come to the U.S. without their families. Yet the one who loved you almost as much as I do, I walked away from and left her to her agony. I should

have tried harder to convince her to let me help. She had no one, and, because I became wrapped up in your pain, that’s who I left her with. No one.” “Not true.” Vasily turned from where he’d ended up at the far wall, and Alek could plainly see the guilt ravaging him was most definitely about more than just Sacha. With his temples throbbing because he wasn’t sure anymore if he had a right to the anger burning through him, Alek brought Maks’s phone over and handed it to his uncle. “She wasn’t alone.”

SIXTEEN “No, I was not alone. I gave birth to Alekzander’s daughter in April of this year.” Vasily looked up from the records he’d just read through for the third time to see Sacha alone in the doorway. He was shell-shocked. It was funny how certain things still had the ability to do that. Sacha pulling off something like this? Staggering. And to learn of it after his impassioned speech that had portrayed her as a meek little victim? He might now have to accept that was something Alek’s woman was not. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud of her or pissed at himself for misjudging her so badly. A baby? A little girl? Holy shit. It didn’t surprise him in the least when euphoria swept through him to overshadow everything else. He held it off and gave his attention to his nephew’s not-so-meek girlfriend. Likely due to nerves, Sacha reverted to Russian when she spoke, her gaze fearful but steady as she owned up to stealing who was essentially Vasily’s granddaughter. He listened to the baby’s mother with a lump the size of a melon lodged in his throat. “Her name is Alekzandra Liliya Urusski. I deliberately kept her a secret after I walked in on her father in a…compromising position. He told me a few minutes ago that he set that up, and why, and I believe him. But that does not change the fact that he broke me when I saw…what I saw. I had planned to tell him about his daughter, but the chance was taken from me. I will now do anything to make up for the time I stole from him. And you,” she added quickly. “Anything but be separated from my child. Please, do what you will, but do not take my life away by taking my daughter from me. That would not only punish me, but it would hurt her because I am all she has known since she was born.”

“If you think to separate her from her child, I will stand before her and do what I must to make sure that does not happen.” They all turned to find Dmitri standing in the doorway, his gunmetal eyes furious as he looked between Vasily and Alek. A nerve had been struck. Vasily took no offense to the aggression pulsing from his byki. He knew a situation like this would always trigger the man’s protective instincts more than any other. Vasily dealt with that first by going over and offering a quiet reassurance that no one had any intention of separating Sacha and her daughter. Hell, Vasily was already planning which rooms in his house would work best for the new family of three. The speeding tic in Dmitri’s jaw was a good indication of what he was seeing in his mind’s eye. His mother and sister being torn apart, screaming and crying with their arms outstretched, reaching, before being silenced with two well-aimed bullets. “I will not separate them,” Vasily stressed. He waited for a sharp nod of acknowledgment, and then went back to Sacha. “I have more respect for you right now than I ever have.” He kissed both her cheeks and ignored the way Alek’s body stiffened next to them. His next words were for his nephew’s benefit just as much as hers. “I appreciate that you didn’t make excuses, and more, that even now you automatically protected Alek by glossing over the details to save face on his behalf. The fact that you honored us by naming his daughter after him, even after everything, well, that’s just icing on the cake.” She didn’t believe his amicability was sincere. He could see it in the careful way she was holding herself. Which showed how smart she was. Of course, he felt some anger over what she’d taken from them. How could he not? But he let it go because he understood her reasoning, and would never think to berate her in public—mainly because she was in no way solely responsible for this situation. They were all going to have to work to gain each other’s trust

again. But that would come over time, he thought as he turned her and nudged her toward his nephew, damn relieved there was now a little someone who would guarantee they would be together. “You and Maksim will take her home,” he told Alek. “Sydney will remain with her for support while you arrange to have her apartment closed up and her things brought to Old Westbury. My house, not yours. I think we’ll let her and the baby get settled before dropping them into the circus your place has become with all the new inhabitants.” While Sacha’s skin went snow white, Alek’s face transformed from pissed to smugly satisfied. Brat, Vasily thought affectionately as he went over and grabbed his brother’s only child with a hand over each of his ears. He landed two smacking kisses to his cheeks. “You didn’t think I was going to leave you to be the bad guy, did you, son?” He released this boy he loved so much and had to move away before this news got its teeth into him. Alekzander was a father. Jesus Christ, that made him want to weep. He cleared his throat and said over his shoulder, “Let’s move out. When I get home, I want to greet the baby girl who’s going to bring happiness to two men who probably don’t deserve it.”

♦ ♦ ♦ As Vasily left her and Alekzander alone, Sacha tried to get her bearings. Even though she’d always thought Vasily was a reasonable man, she couldn’t believe this easy acceptance of what she’d done. How could he understand and be okay with it, just like that? She watched the rise and fall of Alekzander’s shoulders beneath his tux and knew it wasn’t going to be so effortless with him. But she’d expected that, and as clarity had slowly seeped in over the past few minutes, she now understood the new choices before her.

She could cower under the weight of Alekzander anger. Let him continue to yank her to and fro while feeding fear into her heart until she eventually fell apart and was of no use to anybody. Or she could kill the trembling girl he was now studying and show him something more. The strong, capable woman she’d become. One who would do anything to keep her place in her child’s life. Some of the tension in her muscles eased. Where was the choice? She straightened, closed her eyes, and drew in a long, slow breath. Uncaring that he was watching, she blew it out, and with it, she released the dread and fear she’d been living with since staring down at her still flat abdomen in that hotel room. She’d known she was inviting this man’s wrath when she’d made her decision to keep her child from him. She’d known and had done it anyway. So now she would live with the consequences. If she had to leave her pride behind when they walked out of here, she would. If she became not much more than a nanny, useful for nothing more than rearing the baby she’d gladly give her life for, she would. If she had to whore herself to keep her place in her child’s life—sadly, that part wouldn’t be difficult—she would do it, and wouldn’t beat herself up for enjoying it. Much. She didn’t think. She shook the indecisive voice from her head. No. She wouldn’t. She would share Alekzander’s bed, if that’s what he wanted, and she would be adult enough to admit it wasn’t awful. If it allowed her to keep her daughter, who cared if Sacha eventually lost a piece of herself? What was pride anyway? Nothing. She focused on her warden and saw triumph glinting within the emotions swirling in his eyes. That was okay, too. It didn’t bother her. She felt her lips curve just a little. He saw her as a submissive, eager-to-please pushover, but she would show him. For her daughter, Sacha would become a rock. A mountain. One even a Tarasov wouldn’t be able to move. Her only place in this world was

with her child, and she would wear a brave face while doing everything it took to stay there. And if she failed herself by falling more deeply in love with a man who now hated her, then she would have no one to blame for that but herself. “You have changed since we were last together,” she commented as she saw Maksim appear in the doorway, an impatient look on his face. “What’s this?” Alekzander demanded. “What?” He tipped his chin at her. “You. You suddenly don’t seem upset anymore.” “I am upset,” she corrected. “But this is what it is, so…” “So…what?” “So I will not fight you.” “You won’t.” “No.” “Really.” “Really.” He was quiet for a moment. “Go over and stand next to that chair.” She sighed quietly, and her teeth ground together only a little as she walked to where he’d motioned. Men were so immature. “Come back to me.” She held his eyes, absolutely forcing herself not to glare. She felt like a puppy as she went back to stand before him. He inclined his head as though letting her know he was pleased. “You seem to have gathered your composure pretty damn well in only a few minutes. Would you like to tell me how you did that?” “Are you looking for lessons?” As Maksim choked, she held steady when Alekzander’s eyebrows slammed down. She never said she’d take everything he dished out. “I could use the help, yes. But you must know that already.” She blinked at his honesty, not expecting it. Especially not in front of his

friend. “I am struggling, too,” she admitted so he wouldn’t regret sharing that with her. Could he be softening already? “I’m sure you are. And you deserve to struggle.” No. No softening, she realized when he brought his face close to hers. The heat coming from his body was astounding. “All reasoning aside, after the time you’ve stolen from me, I think it’s only fair that you have to kick like hell to keep this beautiful head above water. At least for a little while.” She was tempted to snap at him that she’d never have stolen it had he not set her up, but she caught herself at the last minute. What was the point? In the end, she had stolen months of his daughter’s life, and she couldn’t deny it. He would come to see they were both to blame. She hoped. “Mmm. I remember this side of you.” He dropped his voice so only the two of them could hear. “It used to come out when we were in bed.” He ran his knuckles in a lazy circle around her clenched stomach muscles. “You were desperate to please me back then, weren’t you? It’ll be interesting to see how long it takes me to get you to that point again.” How smug would he be if she told him she was already halfway there? “We shall see,” she mumbled, moving on before he could say anything more on the subject. “When I first found out who you were, I was terrified of you. Do you remember? But you convinced me you were not “that” man. You said your family was all about big business that sometimes had a darker side.” She moved around him, giving his hard body a slow once over. Thank God for breast pads and their ability to hide her stiffening nipples. “You are an established, high-ranking member of a Russian Bratva,” she said with complete certainty and a whole lot of feminine appreciation that she wished she had the skill to hide. That she wished she didn’t feel. Shockingly, she felt no intimidation as she came to a halt before him and reached up to trace the strong line of his jaw. “You are Vasily Tarasov’s nephew,

and what you want, what you feel you are entitled to, you get. No matter who or what you have to trample in the process.” She stepped closer and had to push up on her toes to get anywhere near his ear. “I am not afraid of you,” she whispered in Russian, realizing for the first time how true that was. She feared what he could take from her, but she didn’t fear him. “You own me now. You may do with me what you will. Anything you want. And I will let you because there is nothing I would refuse to do for the baby who has waited almost eight months to meet you. But through it all, I will not fear you, Alekzander.” Inhaling his scent, she pressed her lips below his ear, and dropped down to her heels. Without looking at him, she walked out. She also paid no mind to Maksim and their bodyguards, but did smile and accept the hand Sydney held out for her. “I wasn’t expecting that to go so well,” the beautiful blonde whispered. “Me either,” Sacha whispered back as she and the unexpectedly supportive Australian walked down the corridor behind Anton. Maksim’s muttering came from behind them. “Just when you think you have her where you want her, huh? Wonder where they hide those balls that always seem to pop out when you least expect it?” Sacha strained to hear Micha’s grumbled comment added in Russian. “Scary part is; she’s one of ours. May God help us all.”

♦ ♦ ♦ Adjusting his grip on the bags he carried, Sergei unlocked the door to his home, already knowing it would be for one of the last times. He walked through and left it open for Reynard and the woman the idiot had picked up. He paid no attention to them disappearing up the stairs but went down the hall to the kitchen which was illuminated by the track lighting that only had two functioning bulbs. The hum of the refrigerator was the only sound until his phone rang. He

answered it as he started taking things from the bags. “I have your shit, you crazy fuck.” He held his cell to his ear with his shoulder and carried on with his task. He didn’t reprimand his contact over the disrespect. Why bother? “I will try to get to Gravesend tonight. If you will not be there, leave the package on the desk in the back room.” “It is there already. I noticed the supply of Propofol I got you for this month is also still there.” “I will no longer be needing it.” As of tonight, sedating his guest would be unnecessary. “No shit. You have had that ordered filled for months.” “I know,” Sergei said. “Tell me, what were you able to do in so short a time?” There was no need for him to discuss the details of his business. Not yet, anyway. “All of it. Birth certificates, passports, got the mother a driver’s license. Beautiful girl. I also supplied a social security number but tell her to use it only if she has to because the woman it belonged to has already been dead a couple of years. The IRS might wonder about those missing tax forms.” “Fine.” “Is she Russian? Looks it. Is she yours?” Sergei’s mouth thinned, and when he remained silent, Artur laughed. “I will not bother asking where she is headed because I am sensing you do not wish to share.” “I’ll leave payment in exchange for the documents.” He hung up without sharing travel plans, or who it was Sacha belonged to. If Artur were to learn she and her daughter were Aleks’, there would be no way the two females would make it out of New York. Artur would go straight to his father, and Sacha and the baby would be in their possession within hours. They would end up in the same delivery boxes Renee and Evan had come home in. Sergei shook his head. Fucking Baikovs. How he hated dealing with them.

But he did because, with the divide between the families, Sergei’s movements with their enemy had no way of making it back to Vasily. It wasn’t as difficult playing the role of double-agent as he’d thought it might be. Filling three bowls with oranges, apples, and grapes, he set them aside and opened up eight boxes of protein bars that he dumped into a cake pan because it was the only thing large enough to fit them all. He emptied the paper bag of medical supplies into a large plastic one that held feminine products and a crossword book. He’d added a pen to his purchases this time since he wouldn’t be returning to have it used against him. Looking at the haul, he wondered if he forgot anything. There was running water… He snapped his fingers and went to the pantry to grab a few rolls of toilet paper. A supply that wouldn’t run out for about two weeks was all that was needed. She couldn’t last more than that with what he was leaving her with. It took him two trips to get it all downstairs and outside her door. Then he slipped his gun out of its holster and opened up. She was sitting on the cot, her knees up, forehead resting on them. He got two bowls into the room before she lifted her head. Her eyes were lifeless, defeated. “Not in the mood to fight today?” He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get a response. Sometimes she was like this. “Take your clothes off.” He threw a black T-shirt, leggings, and under things at her feet. “You can put that on after your shower. Quickly. I am in a hurry tonight.” He got the rest of the supplies in and then stood looking down at her when she still hadn’t moved. He brought his gun up and cocked it before pointing it at her head. Her jaw clenched and a flush crept up her face as she slowly stood and completely disrobed, the same as she’d done every week since he’d brought her here. He took her arm, shoved the muzzle of his Glock into that soft spot at the base of her skull, then walked her out and to the bathroom where he gave her

just under two minutes to shower. He brought her back to her prison dripping wet because he never had supplied her with towels. She kept her back to him, one arm across her breasts, the other in front of her pussy. She needn’t have bothered. He didn’t see her as a woman. She was a pawn. “That will be the last shower you ever have.” She turned slowly, her eyes widening. He could tell her breathing had choked off. “You have enough supplies to last you maybe two weeks if you ration. The meds will stretch beyond that, but soon you won’t need them.” He stepped back toward the door. “I am sure you have wished to be rid of me. I grant that wish now. Goodbye.” To the sound of her bare feet slapping on the floor and her fists hammering against the door he slammed in her face, Sergei turned, and for the last time, left the responsibility he’d undertaken. It seemed she would inadvertently die by his hand, after all, he thought as the sound of her shouts faded the further up the stairs he went. By the time he reached the main level of the house, they were muted. When he made it to the second floor and began packing a couple of bags, he could hear nothing but the deep grunts and high-pitched pleas that came from the spare bedroom. After gathering what he’d need, he entered the hallway just as the door across the way was flung open. The dark haired prostitute stumbled out. She pulled her skirt down over a handprint on her ass and tucked in an exposed breast that had red scratch marks on it. She had blood running over her lip where it leaked from her left nostril, and her right eye was pink and already swelling from what had to have been repeated hits. “Wait,” he said as she limped away on one heel. He pressed a few hundred dollars into her hand. “Forgive me. I should have cared enough to warn you.” “You guys are fuckin’ nuts,” she whispered. “Yes.” Fear flooded her face at his ready agreement, and she was gone in the next second. Reynard came out, buttoning his pants. He appeared satisfied.

Sergei knew right then how he would dispose of this sadist who so enjoyed taking his pleasure at another’s expense. Had the women been willing, because there were those who got off on rough treatment, it would have been different. But Reynard didn’t want an eager partner. He enjoyed the panic and struggle, and that was wrong. “Where to now, boss?” Reynard asked as they locked up and got in the car. Sergei wasn’t sure how his uncle was going to react to his latest attempt to affect the family’s ability to do business. It would be the most public strike yet, and it might hinder how freely he and Reynard could roam afterward. He glanced at the house as they drove off. Unless he’d fucked up along the way and a drastic discovery was made in the next few hours, he and Reynard could probably return for one more night before they were forced to rest their heads under their enemy’s roof. He didn’t mind admitting he wanted to put that off for as long as he possibly could. Or avoid accepting the Baikov’s hospitality altogether. Who knew if they’d wake up the following morning? One could never fully trust an enemy. He reached out and turned on the heat. “Aside from getting Sacha and her daughter out of the picture, there is only one other thing I must take care of before this ends.” He thought about the weapon he’d stowed in the trunk just that morning. It was funny how a man was going about his life with no clue it would end in the next forty-eight hours. “What thing?” Reynard asked. “You never mentioned anything other than Brighton Beach and Alek’s woman. What else is there?” “A private matter. Call Anton and see if they are still at the convention center. If so, we will go there. I’ll try to get Sacha alone. If I am successful, I will kill her fixation with Alek by using the same means he did. How do you think she will take it when she learns the man she loves has a son with the woman he cheated on her with? She will believe the lie because, correct me if I’m wrong, she did witness them having sex. To twist the knife, I will tell her

Alek has spent an enjoyable year and a half with his ‘other family’.” He chuckled. “The poor girl will not be able to get away from him fast enough, and she will never know how lucky she is. After all, a broken heart is preferable to dead.” “And if you can’t get to her?” He went into his pocket and took out a small vial. “Then dead it is. At least for the little one, which will cause the most pain.” “No shit.” Reynard laughed, sounding too happy. “I didn’t think you had the balls.” Sergei rolled the brown bottle between his palms and looked out the window. It wasn’t about balls. It was about finishing what he’d started. And speaking of finishing a project, he had to get back to Rapture at some point in the next couple of days. Hopefully, when Micha, and his invasive stare, was out with Maksim. “Get in touch with Anton,” he repeated. “We need to be seen. Too, I would like to be present when they get the call.” He sat back with a sigh and felt some relief that it was almost over.

SEVENTEEN Alek was next to Maks in the back of the SUV stretch limo while Sacha and Sydney sat across the way. Micha was driving, Anton riding shotgun, and back at Sacha’s place, Grigori and Lucas were stationed with a team of four others, guarding what was now Alek’s most prized possession. Every little while Sydney would give Sacha a pat on the knee or arm. Sacha would look at her, offer a small smile; Sydney would return it, then look over and glare at him and Maks. It was more than apparent the two had bonded in the restroom. Women were funny like that. He turned over his cell that he was holding loosely in his hands, and took the edge of his jacket to wipe over the camera lens he now had every reason to use. His leg started bobbing, and he turned to look out the window. No traffic. “Micha drives like an old woman,” he muttered. “Cooks like one, too,” Maks drawled without taking his eyes off his phone. “Does a lentil soup that’ll make you cream your panties. Look. I took a pic of it last time for posterity sake.” He held his phone to Alek’s face so he could read a text that wouldn’t get sent. Congratulations, Papa. I have no words. You? Fuck. “Yeah,” he admitted, conscious the girls could hear them. “Put it in front of me and get me an army. No one’s getting anywhere near it. You guys liked to ride my ass about not being the sharing type before? Fuck you.” Sacha was looking puzzled. Oops. They were supposed to be talking about soup. He finished what he was saying regardless. “I’ll use a spoon or a fork. Don’t care. You can even give me a knife. A dull one that has a rusty bent tip that’ll really mess up the soft spots if anyone dares come near what’s mine.” Maks laughed and nudged him in the ribs to shut him up. “You want

drive-thru, brother? Sounds as if you’re starving.” Sacha’s eyes, which somehow looked more beautiful in their exhaustion, clashed with his. “Famished,” he murmured, tearing his gaze away when he started to get hard. He needed a kick in the groin. Fucking dick didn’t have a clue. Idiot, he snapped to the thickening appendage. She’s a fucking thieving liar. Shut it down. It didn’t listen. In fact, it shot back a response. She’s a thieving liar because of you. Now give me what I want. Then it hardened to stone and sent memories up to remind Alek’s of how hot and snug its favorite place was. The vehicle’s heat turned on and began blowing in his eyes as he tried to get his head out of his pants. A child. Living in a paper apartment with no protection from the time of her birth. His thoughts began to race right along with his heartbeat. How could Sacha have kept this from him? He wanted to rail. Lose his shit all over her firm, round ass. At the duplicity, at all he’d missed, at what he was missing even in that moment. He had a baby, yet he’d had no clue she was out there in the world. How could that be? Or maybe deep down he had somehow known. Had felt the connection on a level so deep he hadn’t recognized it. Maybe it was that connection that had pushed him so hard; that had refused to allow him to give up on his search for Sacha. Maybe it had been about his child and not her mother. Alek was jostled when Maks leaned over and took Sydney’s chin in his hand. He openly scrutinized her perfectly structured face, turning it this way and that. “What are you doing?” she asked guardedly. “Reminiscing.” He let go and sat back. “Haven’t seen that expression aimed at me since I was in hunting mode. First woman I ever had to chase,” he said to Sacha. “Caught her, of course, but it took some work. Used to think she

was just a fine piece of ass.” His goatee curved into a smile. “Little did I know how much more I’d be getting.” His focus was back on the woman he was speaking so openly about. But, with Maksim, you had to expect that. “You look at me like that and it kind of makes my palm want to get busy because there’s no justification for it. It isn’t my story to tell.” The quiet sound Sacha made at the mention of an itchy palm was ignored. Well, ignored by everyone but the idiot sitting all achy and shit on Alek’s thigh. “If I understand what that means,” Sydney drawled with her nose tipped in the air. “Might I ask that you close the bathroom door before you begin satisfying that palm. Maybe even get in the shower, so there’s no awkwardness afterward when we pretend we didn’t hear you making those odd noises. Isn’t that the normal way of things?” Alek found himself watching Sacha’s reaction to the backtalk. She’d rarely offered Alek any. Though in his favor, he’d never been quite as tactless as Maks was capable of being. Right now, Sacha was looking between the couple, appearing to hold her breath. “If we’re in the shower, princess, your tight little bod might slip out of my hands. Then where would that well place swat land?” “Well, if I were to climb onto your shoulders, Russia, most likely right where it should.” It was obvious Maks was totally enjoying himself as he slid to the edge of the seat and reached for his woman’s dainty ankle. Sydney didn’t pull away when he started massaging her calf. “Why are you mad at me?” “I wasn’t, really, until you opened your mouth. It’s more about being mad at all of you.” She included Alek in that, then said to Sacha, “Because no one will tell us—and by us I mean the ladies of the house—why you left him, we’re left to imagine the worst case scenario. Now that there’s a baby involved, and you still stayed away? Wow. Just, wow. The worst case scenario suddenly seems that much more painful.” She patted Sacha’s leg again before clasping her hands together in her lap and looking out the window, muttering about men in general.

With her history of being left pregnant and alone at seventeen, Alek didn’t hold it against her. When Maks put Sydney’s foot down and took up the other, he jerked her leg so her butt slid forward and she instinctively threw her arms out to save herself from landing on the floor. “Don’t lump me with the masses,” he warned. “I think we long ago established I don’t belong there any more than you do. And I’m not making what Sacha did a gender thing and cursing you for it, so, again, don’t put me where I don’t belong.” Sydney sighed and adopted a sheepish half-smile as she came over to their side and climbed into Maks’s lap much the same way Alek had pictured Sacha doing last night. Just like that, all was well in Maks’s weird little world of Bickerville. “Sorry,” he heard Sydney whisper. “Hearing what little I did brings back memories of how terrifying it was to be pregnant and alone.” Seeing a flash of resentment when he met Sacha’s stare, Alek was suddenly glad they were going to Vasily’s house. Because if they were going home, where Sacha would have the backing of Sydney, Eva, and Nika, Alek would be done for. The limo came to a stop, but it wasn’t until Sacha started spinning her rings that his gut began to churn. “We’ll be out here if you need us,” Maks said with an encouraging thump on the knee. Alek climbed from the truck, and after helping Sacha do the same, they moved at an even pace to the door. Most men had at least eight or nine months to prepare for fatherhood. He’d had just over an hour. He nodded at Lucas and Grigori, then held up a hand before Sacha could unlock with her keys. “This is what keeps going through my head,” he told her as he put his hand out to Grigori. “You must have a tension wrench on you.” One appeared on his palm in the next second, and he bypassed the cheap

lock as if he’d inserted her key. His skin crawled as he turned the knob and much too effortlessly entered the small unit. “Just that easily. More than seven fucking months.” As she came forward to greet them, Angela was much more subdued than she’d been earlier in the day. Which meant she’d already been updated. Sacha must have called ahead when she’d gone to the restroom with Sydney. “Are you going to be okay?” her friend asked with genuine concern. Sacha pulled back from their hug and smiled. “Yes. Of course.” She sounded as if she meant it. He wasn’t sure why, but it bugged him that she was more nervous than afraid. “I’m taking her and the baby home,” Alek said as he shrugged out of his coat. His gaze strayed to the closed bedroom door. Made sense now why Sacha had drawn him away from it this morning… A slow burn started up when he realized something, but he put it aside to deal with later. “Sacha will call you in a day or so,” he continued. “If you’d like to see her, let her know, and I’ll bring her into the city. We have a place near Madison Square Park in the Flatiron District.” Sacha’s eyes flared. “You still have it?” she said in surprise. “Of course.” “Why?” “Because it was our home,” he ground out through a tight jaw. He wanted in that fucking bedroom. “Oh, girl…” Angela whispered, her voice rising an octave at the end as she beamed at him. He wanted to yell at her that he didn’t need the approval shining in her eyes and she seemed to get that because she got her ass in gear. “Okay,” she said as she gathered her things, which included her little guy asleep in a portable bassinet. “Get settled then call me. Don’t leave me hanging for more than a day or two, though, okay? God, I love this. Sorry, but I had to say it. You better play nice, Russian,” she said over her shoulder as she closed the door

behind her. Sacha was trying not to smile. “She’s…a funny bird.” “Where’s my little bird?” “Um.” She moved between him and the bedroom, and he could have sworn she now had stars glittering in her eyes at his reference to their daughter. Could she sense his impatience? “Would you like me to bring her out? Or do you want to go inside? I will bring you to her if you would like. Or you can go on your own…?” He reached out and put a stop to her ring twisting before she skinned her finger. “You can bring me to her.” “Okay. Alekzander, I want you to know—” “Don’t. Not now. Let me at least see her, for Christ’s sake.” “Oh, yes, of course. Come.” He looked into the room when Sacha opened the door. His heart pounded. A nursery. Pinks and purples, clouds and angels, a rocking chair, crib, a small table. There were fuzzy blankets, a squat lamp, and stacks of neatly folded laundry on the corner of the dresser. A single bed along the wall, unmade and cozy looking. A coffee cup was on the table with an open book beside it. The room was full of life. A quiet, private, beautiful life. His gaze landed on the wall above the crib. And stayed there. The name, made from pink stickers in the shape of a rainbow and surrounded by smiling suns and moons, knifed him directly in the heart. Alekzandra. “Was she with you today? Outside?” Sacha turned. Her fist was pressed against her mouth. She was trying not to cry as she nodded, her eyes full of apology. How could he not have known he was inches from his child? How could he not have felt a connection to the baby that had been wrapped in the pink blanket Sacha had adjusted one time too many? Why had the nervous actions not registered?

Because I was too distracted by the one who stood there, doing whatever she could to hide my daughter from me. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He held onto the knob, his extremities stinging as adrenaline leaked into his system. His knees went weak. He looked to the crib. Couldn’t see anything yet, but a barrage of feelings smoked him where he stood. So much shock and wonder. A joy the likes of which he’d never known. Excitement. Pride. Fear. And fury. White hot and debilitating. He grew dizzy as betrayal devoured him again, bringing with it a reminder of all he’d missed thus far. Of all he could never, ever get back. The softness of Sacha’s hand registered when it slipped into his. She tugged him forward, and they crossed the softly lit room together. Alek couldn’t help but wonder if his daughter, Alekzandra, might instinctively know him. Would she feel some sort of connection to him? He sidled up to the crib and felt vines of the softest, strongest connect wrap around his heart and squeeze until the organ barely functioned. A tiny blonde baby. Sleeping so peacefully. Jesus… His lungs sucked in a hard breath all on their own as he tried to swallow and couldn’t. Through blurry eyes, he watched Sacha reached down and lift his daughter. “Lekzi, your papa is here to meet you,” she whispered with a catch in her voice. Alek accepted her light weight, wrapping her in his arms as he drew her against his chest. Without knowing why, he brought her right under his chin so he could inhale…a scent so pure and unique he knew it belonged to his child alone. Too bad he didn’t get much of it before his ability to breathe deserted him. If she woke, would she cry in fear at the sight of her father’s face? Would his child’s instincts go off in warning, telling her he was there to harm her?

When in reality, all he would ever do for the rest of his life was love and shelter her? Their relationship was only seconds old, but Alek knew he would be her champion until the day he died. And because nothing could change the fact that she’d given this to him when she could have made an entirely different decision regarding her pregnancy, he reached out and drew Sacha in with a light touch on the back of her head. He buried his face in her hair, closing his eyes when her arms slipped around his waist. It took a moment before he could speak. “Thank you. For her…for her name…” He breathed for a second. “Thank you for this extraordinary gift.” She nodded but didn’t say anything as she hugged him and their daughter. After a long minute of her stroking his back, patting every so often as if she was trying to comfort him, she drew away. “I will give you some time with her.” Once the distraction of her mother was gone, Alek focused completely on the feel of the treasure in his arms and tears finally fell onto his cheeks. He wouldn’t have cared if their entire organization was witness to his emotions. He was meeting his baby girl for the first time, and he was completely overwhelmed.

EIGHTEEN He had to put her down. Alek continued to rock the chair he was sitting in by lightly pushing with his foot. He released the tiny hand with its teensy fingers so he could stare at his daughter’s perfect little face again. Soft, round cheeks, tiny chin, button nose, bow lips—that pursed and made a sucking motion every little while that without fail made him smile and choke up. Her hair was a few shades lighter than his. What color were her eyes? He had to put her down. Shit. He would gladly have walked to Old Westbury so that he could keep her in his arms. He lingered, needing to feel her just a little longer, and it wasn’t until another ten minutes had passed that he finally got up and placed her back in the crib. Time to go out and close this chapter of Sacha’s life, he thought as he reluctantly left the nursery. The moment he walked out and saw her rise from the sofa, looking drawn and anxious, her eyes red-rimmed, the peace he’d found being in his daughter’s presence shriveled. Sacha had changed out of her evening wear and now had on a pair of black yoga pants and a loose-fitting long-sleeve pink tee. She looked young and innocent. But wasn’t. How often had Sheppard sat on that sofa, cradling his daughter? Had he fed her? Lounged with Sacha’s feet in his lap while she held the baby and they talked about their day? Babysat on his own while Sacha went shopping? What had she looked like with a round belly? Had her pregnancy been hard? Easy? Did she breastfeed? Bottle? Cloth diapers? Store bought? Had there been complications? He thought of Eva and her gestational diabetes. Had the delivery been hard? Any complications there?

His temples pounded. There was no way he could process this. The scope of it was just too large. The part he’d played in Sacha’s deception wasn’t making the impression it should. What he’d done by setting her up he’d done out of love and had been wrecked over it. She had consciously and deliberately kept his daughter from him to exact revenge. “Do you have suitcases—don’t,” he snapped when she took a breath as though she were about to speak. His voice was quiet but deadly. “You shut your mouth, get in that goddamn bedroom, and pack what you’ll need for the night. Everything else will arrive at the house tomorrow. You have thirty minutes.” A crimson flush climbed her neck as she stood rooted to the spot. Did she think to refuse him? Why? Because in the past he’d have allowed it? He wanted to laugh. Those days were over. Taking full advantage of his size, he moved into her. He didn’t touch. Just towered. Her lashes fanned up when she raised her eyes to him, and he almost groaned as his focus changed in an instant. He tried to pull it back. “Do I really have to remind you how I was raised, Sacha? Tell me you haven’t forgotten what a spoiled bastard I am.” He brought his hand to her waist because he had to fucking touch her. “If I wanted to, I could have you taken away right this minute. I could arrange for you to be in Russia by lunchtime tomorrow, tucked away in the middle of nowhere. With one phone call, I could make it so you never saw our daughter again.” Her gold eyes began to shimmer as she stared up at him. “You do not have to go so far. You already know I am willing to do this your way. Please do not make us suffer by separating us.” “But wasn’t that your intent? To keep me separated from her?” He released her with a light shove toward the bedroom. What if this meeting hadn’t taken place until Lekzi was ten years old? Twenty? “Get out of my sight before I forget that I live by a code that prevents me from doing to you what many of my

associates would have already done.” He turned away and wanted to punch himself in the face. Right in the mouth. Because he couldn’t get past the urge he had to take hers and suck those trembling breaths right out of her. He was hungry. For her. Even with everything else going on, he wanted to kiss her. Strip her. Fuck her where they stood. Why the hell was he getting tangled up with lust? He was hot and hard and uncomfortable. And if felt fucking amazing. He hadn’t felt this alive in sixteen abysmal months. But it was also twisted, considering the circumstances. A sick, gnarled desire jumbled together with all the other mangled emotions he was supposed to be keeping at bay. Unexpectedly, adding to it, was an unreasonable but crippling fear. It rose up out of nowhere to clobber him. “If I am willing to be civil about this, the least you can do is attempt the same.” He wheeled around and grabbed her by the arm to jerk her forward. “You’d be wise not to make demands of me right now,” he rasped. “You have no idea how close to the edge I am. Jesus Christ, after everything—” He cursed and tried to block the thoughts winging around, torturing him. “I never expected this from you. Never! How the fuck could you do this? I just spent thirty minutes with my seven-month-old daughter. Thirty fucking minutes! I knew nothing of her existence, nothing of her birth. You robbed me of the opportunity to wonder, to dream and prepare. I didn’t even have the chance to worry that something might go wrong!” He shook her as terror overtook him. “What if something had gone wrong? What if we lost her and I never knew? What if I lost you and I wasn’t even aware?” As her tears welled and overflowed, he yanked her against him and banded his arms around her. He pressed her entire body against his, trying to absorb her so she would be in him, safe, and forever in a place no harm could come to her.

An image of her bleeding out on a fucking operating table slammed into his head. He saw a doctor call the time and draw a sheet over her pale face. Distressed, he squeezed her so tight she moaned. “Goddamn you, I could have fucking lost you both, and I wouldn’t have known. I would have just kept searching. I would have searched forever. For nothing.” He picked up her heart beating against his, and he centered on it. “I am so sorry.” She gently stroked her hands over him, his head, down his neck, his shoulders. Petting him. Soothing him. “It is okay, Alekzander. We are okay. I am so sorry I have done this to you.” He came back enough so he could see her face. He devoured her every feature as he’d yearned to do every day since they’d last been together. He could tell she didn’t know why he was going here. Hell, he didn’t know why he was going here. Once again his focus changed when he felt her body soften as she leisurely reached up to slide her fingers into his hair and push it back from his forehead. She shifted slightly, rubbing against him, her fingertips traveling down over his cheek. But it was the feel of her brushing them across his lower lip that lured him off the ledge and made him see what she was doing. He remembered her using this method of distraction before. After an associate he’d been close to had been killed in a situation that could have been avoided. Sacha had seen he was suffering, and she’d used the attraction that blazed between them to bring his attention away from his grief. Right now, she was using it to get his mind off his greatest fear; losing her. She was the only woman who could tangle him in fucking knots and make him enjoy the cramping pain. His body began to stir and he welcomed it, savored it. If she thought she was going to take him from helpless to helplessly aroused just so she could wander off to pack, she was mistaken. “Since you’ve brought us here, you’re going to follow through.” She would feed the beast she’d disturbed. She blinked as if she hadn’t expected that and he was charmed by the

sudden apprehension in her eyes that did nothing to lessen the need he was responding to in a big way. She’d always made it impossible for him to concentrate on nothing but the physical, by effortlessly reaching his emotions. “Come on,” he encouraged under his breath, wanting her to make that leap the rest of the way back into them. It was the only place she had to go, so she might as well do it now rather than later. “Bring me that mouth I’ve never stopped dreaming about. Let me suck on your cherry tongue and maybe I’ll give you a few reasons to moan down my throat.” His hunger for her flared, overtaking his anger. It clawed his insides to fucking shreds. The moment stretched, and just as he reached the end of his patience, she lifted her face and parted her lips. His invitation. That he accepted by swooping in and taking that mouth he couldn’t resist. She whimpered once and then went octopus with her arms around his head. She opened wider, and her tongue was thrusting deep from one heartbeat to the next. She gripped his hair and just about killed him when she tipped her pelvis and rubbed against his aching cock. “That’s my girl. Just like that,” he encouraged before sucking her tongue the way he wished he was sucking on her hip or inner thigh. With a mind of their own, his fingers stroked up her ribs until he was in inch from— She came in and linked their fingers. Thwarted. On purpose? She brought their hands down and around. “Squeeze.” He nearly spilled right then. Best instruction he’d ever been given. She released him, and he had two decadent handfuls of her ass in the next second. When that wasn’t enough, he lifted her off her feet. “Legs up,” he commanded. All at once, her legs came around his waist, she yanked on his hair and sank her teeth into his bottom lip good and hard. Sublime. He brought her over and plopped her onto the kitchen counter to free up

his hands. Fisting her hair, he held her steady while he devoured her mouth, stealing her moans, her breath, her very essence. “Tighten your legs.” When that wasn’t enough, he sent a hand down and flattened it on her lower back. He jerked her forward. “I want to feel the heat coming from your pussy.” She moaned as her feet locked at the ankles across his ass. Better. Palming her breasts, he scored her covered nipples with his thumbs and licked down her neck. The second she rubbed herself on his spasming abs, he was striving to give her what she needed. He dropped his hand to her thigh and tightened his fingers to draw her attention. When she didn’t protest but worked her roaming hands under to push his jacket off his shoulders, he went up, his fingers heating with every inch. When he reached where torso met thigh, he passed his thumb firmly down the center of her body. Hot. Damp. She jerked and was then pulling his shirt out of his pants. The feel of her palms running up his abs was nothing but a blazing trail of fucking pleasure. “Alekzander? I need…I need…” Love. Her. “You need me.” “Yes. I need you.” As a reward for her honesty, he tunneled his hand under the waist of her pants and pressed his searching fingers into the silky wetness that was the center of his universe. Finally. He was home. “That. Yes.” As she gripped two handfuls of his shirt, she spread a little wider and scooted even closer. “So long I have waited for this.” He scissored, catching her clit between his fingers. “Oh…fuck,” she breathed shakily, eyes rolling as her head bumped back into the cupboard door. Satisfaction roared through him. “Yes, angel. Get that dirty mouth going, because I’m back, and your pussy is going to celebrate that in a minute.” His angelic little beauty did not curse. Until he was inside her. And, holy hell, he loved hearing the F-bombs fly because he knew that meant she was

enjoying herself. She pulled him in, clinging to him. Her open mouth slid across his cheek to latch onto the indent below his ear. The sucking sound she made blew. His. Fucking. Mind. He started circling that sensitive spot at the top of what he could feel was her bare slit. Needed his mouth on her. “So wet. Soft. Get your legs open.” They jerked wider, and a waft of her scent slammed into his nostril. “Christ Almighty.” He pressed harder, went side to side, up and down. Wanted to go further back but then he’d sink in and never come out again. “I need…oh, yes…no, not there…okay, harder, please…you are teasing… mmm, there…no…Alekzander, please.” Speaking half Russian half English, he didn’t think there was anything sexier than that hoarse rasp in her voice. Okay. He stood corrected. The feel of her gripping the hair at his nape and smudging her lips over his jaw while bringing her other hand down to press on his fingers, trying to push them inside her, was the sexiest, neediest thing she’d ever done. “Fuck, yes. Take from me.” She was becoming the greedy little lover he’d created. Right in his arms she was breaking out of that reserved shell to reveal the sensual creature he’d worshiped. She offered no apology for her need, and he would never have asked for one. “What is this desperation I’m sensing? Do you need me inside you, Sacha?” “Alekzander!” Her sharp tone sent a hot rush of fresh blood pouring into his groin. So painful. But he forgot about it when tremors shook her because, naturally, he gave in and fed two fingers into her pussy. Tight. So fucking tight. Blistering hot. He moved in, retreated, moved in, deeper this time, and out he came but not all the way. He wanted to pull her off the counter and grind her through the goddamn floor when her inner muscles clamped down on him, clinging. The quiet mewl of pleasure that came from her had fire pounding through his veins, filling him up. His cock was seething with

jealousy that his fingers were so privileged. In and out they went. In and out. He had to get inside her. Needed that connection like he needed his next heartbeat. His moan turned into a tortured groan when she kissed him again and got both her hands between them. She brushed over his erection, hammering at his control. As quick and as gentle as he was able, which wasn’t at all, he grabbed one wrist and then the other and slammed them above her head. Her mouth was torn from his as the cupboard door shook and dishes rattled. “Stay.” In and out. In and out. He could hear her wetness. “Jesus Christ, my cock wants in. So fucking bad.” “I…I…okay.” Her eyes flashed open, and she blinked rapidly as if she were confused and trying to come to her senses. He didn’t give her a chance. He withdrew his fingers to the sound of her sharp cry, tore her off the counter, and swung her around to push her upper body over the small dinette. “Get your hands to the edge and hang on.” Her arms shot out, and she clamped onto the sides of the table. He caressed his way up her ribs, taking her shirt along for the ride. As her firm, creamy skin was exposed, he knew there was no turning back. “I’m going to fuck my pussy now, Sacha.” She shook like a leaf as she nodded and looked at him over her shoulder with anticipation blazing from her. Her hair had fallen over one eye, and a strand was caught between her lips. He was torn open by that look. Exposed and as vulnerable as a man could be. Regardless what she’d done, she fucking owned him. Needing to take back some control, he stole it from her body by squatting, whipping her pants down, and sealing his mouth to her lush core.

♦ ♦ ♦

Sacha’s strangled cry echoed in her ears as she gripped the table tighter. She hadn’t meant to take it this far. Her need to soothe him, to take that panicked look out of Alekzander’s eyes, was what had driven her to bring his attention from thoughts of losing her and the baby to something he could control. Something carnal and entirely physical. But this wasn’t entirely physical because it was them. This man owned her body. He’d awakened it two weeks after they’d met, and it had been slumbering, waiting for him to return. He lifted his mouth from her and gripped her rear end, digging his fingers in so he could spread her. “Oh, my sweet, sweet angel.” There was a reverence in his voice that made this okay. He wouldn’t judge her for her need. He was feeling it, too. “I want to rush, but at the same time, I don’t. It’s been sixteen months since I had you here. Sixteen months since I ate this pussy. Sixteen fucking months since I made you come. I want to rush this,” he repeated, swiping his lips across hers. “But at the same time, I don’t.” Already riding the edge, his words pushed her that much closer, and the moment his tongue penetrated again, his bristles scraping so deliciously, his lips sucking, his teeth nipping…her clit was pulled into his mouth, and Sacha’s orgasm came barreling in. “Da, da, da…” “Nyet, nyet, nyet,” he corrected, removing all forms of stimulation. “Oh, God, do not do that…Alekzander, please…” He chuckled, licked slowly and deeply through the center of her body twice more, then stood. She heard him undoing his belt, and like an animal, she readied to take her mate. She kicked one foot free of her pants and lifted her leg to rest her knee on the table, opening herself for him. His long string of curses in that guttural tone had her glowing because her actions had pleased him. Was there any greater feeling? Not for her. “How could I have sent you away?” she heard him say under his breath before he slid a hand under her to lift her upper body off the table. He pulled her

to him with his arm banded diagonally across her chest. As he tucked his face into that spot where her shoulder met her neck, she gripped his forearm, sinking her nails in when he ran the head of his cock through the wetness he’d created. Tears flooded her eyes, her throat clogged with emotion, and her love for him burst from her heart. At the same time, a hard knock sounded at the door. She cried out in misery, muffling the sound against Alekzander’s arm. “No,” she whispered as he cursed into her hair. “Goddamn this,” he hissed, killing her because he continued stroking that smooth head through her lips. “Your pussy is hot and tempting, my angel,” he said against her heated skin. “If I can’t have it right now, I’m not going to be very good company on the way home. What is it?” he called. “Kill me for interrupting later,” Maks said. “We gotta bounce.” “Fuck me.” That is what I am trying to do, Sacha wailed in her head. The sound of Alekzander’s belt buckle tinkled and then his heat was gone. She wilted and swallowed a frustrated moan. Her breath caught when a kiss was placed on each of her cheeks before her pants were dragged up and she was presentable once more. “Last thing I thought I’d be playing at tonight is edging,” he muttered as he turned her. He settled his hand on her throat and kissed her long and deep, transferring the taste of her pussy from his mouth to hers. “You’re going to use me hard tonight.” Her breath shuddered out to drift over his lips. She wouldn’t have believed they would be here so soon, but she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t in one hundred percent. “Agree.” She licked her lips. “Yes.” “Yes? Yes what, Sacha?” Her cheek burned hot. “I will use you hard, Alekzander.”

“You won’t overthink it.” “No. I will not overthink it.” He nodded once. “Until then.” He kissed her once more before releasing her so he could go to the door and call Anton and the others in. As she ducked into the bathroom, she noted Sergei and a man she hadn’t seen before had arrived. She made quick work of splashing some water on her face and brushing her hair, and when she was sure she no longer looked as if she’d just been mauled, she came out and was nearly run over. “Hello, Sacha.” Sergei greeted her with a kiss to each of her cheeks. Before she could even think to offer her condolences, Alekzander was at her side and his cousin got down to business. “Reynard will gather the things from this room while you tell us what you will need for the night from the others.” Reynard slipped by and disappeared into her bathroom. He wasn’t very quiet about packing her toiletries in the tote bag he carried. She instructed them to gather a few other things, but Sergei didn’t have time to do much more than fill a tote with toys and a few baby things before more than one phone was chirping. Dark looks of disbelief were exchanged. “What is it?” Sydney asked Maksim. They were lingering by the playpen. “Business. You two, go take a few spins around and see what you can learn. Call Alek or me with an update when you have one.” He was speaking to Sergei in Russian. “If they aren’t already on scene, contact our NYPD and FDNY guys and get them in to keep the others from seeing anything they shouldn’t. I want to know if anyone was inside when it went. Motherfucker!” Alekzander came over, his thumbs flying around the screen of his phone with some mad typing skills. “Vasily wants to know if you can check the new surveillance cameras from your phone?” “Tell him I’m downloading footage from the last few days right now.” Sacha saw Sergei look over sharply, pause, and then rush out with Reynard. That was when Maksim’s gaze clashed with hers. He threw up his

hands, obviously just realizing she’d understood every word they’d said. “Told you. One of ours,” Micha muttered by the window as he hung up from a call only to place another one. “She won’t repeat anything she hears,” Alek said with a pointed look that made her stomach flutter because it landed on her mouth. “Not when I tell her Maks is only keeping this type of thing quiet because Sydney has recently been through a tough time and she doesn’t need any more stress in her life.” “I have no intention of interfering in anyone’s relationship,” Sacha reassured them, finding it ridiculous that she had to. Sydney settled on her back leg and crossed her arms over her chest, her white faux-fur coat making her look like a snow princess. She glared at them all as they continued in Russian. “What happened?” Sacha asked, giving her new friend an apologetic look for shutting her out. “Our warehouse in Brighton Beach just blew sky high,” Alekzander surprisingly shared in a controlled tone. His focus was on Maksim, who had his hands stuffed in his pockets and his furious eyes on the door. Sacha was impressed by Alekzander’s calm. “Was anyone hurt? Do you have to go there?” “No. Definitely not. The property was purchased under a dummy company the authorities can’t trace, so one of us showing would be foolish. Our people will take care of it.” It was all Sacha could do not to slip her arms around his neck and plant the warmest of kisses on that information offering mouth. It touched her deeply that he trusted her enough to tell her these things. Especially now. Rather than give their audience a show, she went with socially acceptable and just gave his wrist a squeeze. She hoped the smile she gave him conveyed her appreciation. “Wooow,” Sydney said as she went to stand toe to toe with her fiancé. “He didn’t give her a lot, but enough to put her mind at ease. You know, I could

understand if you’d been there and you didn’t want to tell me about the explosion because you could have been severely injured or killed. I get that. I do. Because you’d be right. I’d lose a week’s sleep over what I would have been left with. But to keep me in the dark because you think I’m too sensitive to handle some bad news? Really, Russia?” Maksim stared down at the little blonde for a moment, and then laughed, the sound more impressed than anything. “How the fuck do you know what we’re talking about?” Sydney looked exasperated. “Because I was born with a brain that quickly picks up languages and Vasily arranged for me to see a tutor behind your back. Now you’ve ruined my surprise.” She looked at Sacha. “When the time came, I wanted to be able to recite my wedding vows in Russian. Wouldn’t that have been romantic? So much for that idea. Why would a romantic woman like me even marry a secretive, closed-lipped—” Maksim scooped her up around the waist and carried her toward the bathroom. Sydney clung to his arm like a little doll. “I swear to God I’m going to gain a hundred pounds so he can’t do this to me anymore,” she muttered as she went by. The door closed, and Sacha waited for a moment before turning to Alekzander. “They are a funny couple.” “Yeah.” He was looking at the bathroom with a small smile. “Even though she kept it from him, her making that gesture got him. Did you see his face?” Sacha hadn’t noticed. But it said a lot that Alekzander had.

NINETEEN Alek looked out the window of the limo as they passed a gas station and then some average-sized family homes before the forest on either side of them became denser. The driveway they eventually turned into was wide, the gate in front of them tall, daunting, and marked with an ornate T that split when the sensor Micha obviously had in his possession gave it the all-clear to part ways. They drove down the long lane and pulled up in front of a beautiful gray brick mansion. It was large but not Lucian-Fane-ostentatious. About the only extravagance that might have made someone roll their eyes would be the fully functional infirmary taking up a large chunk of square footage at the back of the house. Only three people resided here full-time since Alek had moved out; Vasily, Dmitri, and Yuri. The MD had the run of the basement here the way Maks did at their place. Only difference was, Yuri’s lab consisted of test-tubes and beakers where Maks’s was made up of computer equipment. When everyone got out of the truck, Alek’s gaze once more went to the car seat Sacha was unclipping. He’d barely taken his eyes from it the entire drive, which had been made listening to either the radio or Maks or Sydney talking to their respective staff members about issues that had cropped up at the clubs in their absence. “Take the baby inside,” he said to the girls. “Maks, can I have a minute?” Micha brought the girls up the stairs and were greeted by Aron, one of Vasily’s men who opened the door to them. Grigori and Lucas, who’d driven behind the limo, went with Anton to the den above the garage where the boys normally converged when they needed some downtime. Alek and Maks pulled their collars tight against the cold and remained by the limo that would be sent back in the morning. There was no rush since the

company the vehicle had come from was owned by Alek and Gabriel. “Your kid is a pretty little thing,” Maks finally said after the silence between them stretched. “Still trying to wrap my head around it. Can’t wait to see her animated. When they’re asleep, they don’t seem real. If she doesn’t wake up before me and Syd leave, I’m poking her.” “Do that. I want to see her eyes.” “Listen, I’m sorry I blindsided you with the info back at the convention center. I guess I could have handled it better. But when that fucking piece of the puzzle finally fell into place, all I saw was her deception. Now I’m getting the bigger picture. Actually, my Aussie painted a fucking landscape while you were giving Sacha bristle burn.” “If I promise not to be as preachy with you as I was with him, can I put in my two cents?” They turned to see Sydney coming back across the drive. She was still bundled in her coat. “Hear her out,” Maks said. “Just to get the perspective.” Even though he didn’t think he needed it, Alek nodded. “Some of this might come across as insensitive, but I don’t mean it that way. Okay?” Sydney waited for him to nod again before she began. “I can’t stop hearing Sacha ask Vasily not to take her baby away from her. You just met your daughter, Alek. Think about how you felt holding her for the first time.” She gave him a second to do that then reached up and gave him a hug. “That must have been so amazing. Congratulations.” He looked at Maks’s over her head and got an eye roll. “Women,” the idiot muttered out loud. Alek hugged her back. “Thanks, Sydney. It was a life changer.” “I’ll bet,” she said as she settled back. “Now think about a year from now, when that little girl is deep in your heart and owns your soul. Imagine someone coming in with the power to take her from you then.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and started rattling some coins as the

humor in the air dissipated. He wasn’t sure the idea of taking Lekzi away from Sacha was still a possibility—if it ever really was—but he let Sydney continue because the perspective couldn’t hurt. “Sacha carried that baby for nine months. Alone. Every night she probably laid in bed, talking to the peanut, vowing to keep her safe, to do the best she could with what little she had. That, too, she did alone. She walked into that huge hospital, in excruciating pain, knowing it was time and her life was about to change. That she did alone. She laid in that bed and pushed her child from the protection of her body, all by herself. There would have been no one holding her hand but some stranger whose job it was to do so. There would have been no one there to support her. No one to tell her they would get through it together. She was alone, and she became that baby’s champion. She brought her home, alone. She laid awake at night, terrified of sleeping just in case she woke up to find her child had stopped breathing at some point and was gone. Yes, that’s what we do. And Sacha and I did that alone. I lived what she went through, Alek. She may have had her friend there for a chat, the one who was babysitting, just like I had Emily, but it’s still not the same as having a partner who is struggling with the same fears you are because they love your child as much as you do. Gabriel is the perfect example of what a woman’s dream partner is. He might be a little grouchy about it, but he’s invested, and that’s everything.” She hugged Maks’s arm where he settled it around her waist. “You came barreling back onto the scene, and within days threatened Sacha’s primary role in life. I can’t believe how amazing she’s being about all of this. I know I wouldn’t be. I’d be a right nightmare. But that’s not the point,” she said, waving it away. “How do you think she’s going to sleep when the lights go out? She won’t because she’ll be too afraid when she wakes up you or Vasily will have done what you easily have the means to do; take away the baby she’s been singularly responsible for since conception.” She reached over and touched his arm. “I can’t tell you how to deal with this because I don’t know the whole story, and it wouldn’t be my place to open my big mouth even if I did. But I’m

standing here doing just that because I feel a kinship with Sacha, and I’ll happily admit I’m impressed by her. Slightly intimidated, if you want the truth. She’s so…compliant.” She frowned as if that wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. “And comfortable about it. She didn’t give up and allow you to drag her and her daughter away. She yielded to you, and I’ve recently learned that giving in sometimes takes more strength than fighting. A lot more strength.” Her gaze drifted to the house. “It seemed to come so naturally for her,” she mused. “As if she didn’t have to work at it. She just let it happen.” After a few seconds, Maks tugged on a lock of her hair and she snapped to attention. The embarrassed little blonde cleared her throat and rubbed at her bright pink cheeks as she jerkily moved out of Maks’s embrace. She didn’t look at Alek again as she rushed through the rest of her speech. Good thing, too, because he couldn’t hide his grin. “All I’m going to ask is that, if you haven’t already, please take separating her from her baby off the table. If someone had come along and taken Andrew from me when he was that age—because he was my entire life—I would have killed myself. I don’t think you want to do that to a woman you love the way you love Sacha.” She flashed a tight smile, slapped at Maks’s hand when he reached for her, and hurried back into the house. “Mmm. She is so fucking beautiful.” There was no embarrassment or awkwardness to Maks’s claim. The guy was proudly admiring his choice. “She’s flustered because this is the first time she’s recognized a fellow submissive.” Alek chuckled. “Yeah, I got that. Though Sacha has never worn the label. I don’t think she’d even recognize many of the Dom/sub aspects between us.” “Do you?” Maks asked, sounding curious. He thought about that for a second. “There’d be a lot of boxes ticked off if I went through a checklist, but, again, I wouldn’t label us like that either. It’s just who we are together.” Who we’ll be tonight, he added silently. “It used to burn my ass that someone so real in that respect just fell into

your fucking lap. Now I don’t care because I have a little princess of my very own who’s allowing me to shape her into my ideal partner. She’s so willing to learn it brings a tear to my fucking eye. But that stubborn streak of hers still rears its bitchy little head to thrill the hell out of me every so often. And speaking of thrilled, Andy’s going to shit bricks when he hears his mother made another friend.” “You freak me out with this normalcy,” Alek said, only half joking. Maks laughed and leaned his back on the limo. “Yeah. I creep Micha out, too, so you’re not alone. Now, back to your drama. Just so we don’t have to revisit this at a later date and stir the shit up again, I’m going to freak you out a little more and add my piece. Ready?” To refuse to listen would be pointless, so Alek figuratively bent over and hoped the spank didn’t hurt too bad. “Have at her.” “You’re intelligent enough to understand why this is what it is; now you have to get over it.” “Do I,” Alek said wryly. “Yup. Does hearing me say that sound as funny to you as it does to me?” Maks blew out a hard breath. “Fuck. Anyway, you must see where she was coming from when she stashed the kid. You two were talking about buying a house before you got spooked, weren’t you?” “Yeah.” “Imagine this scenario took place, say, a couple of weeks before you two split. You searched for and found the place of her dreams—it’s not as important as a kid, but work with me here. You closed on the deal and stressed all afternoon about how to surprise her. You told her you were going to be home by six and that you’d bring dinner. You’re all fucking happy, grab a bottle of wine, maybe some flowers; the papers are in your pocket as you head up in the elevator and let yourself into your place…Sheppard has your princessa bent over the back of your sofa, fucking her good and hard. Yeah, that’s a nasty vision, huh?” he whispered, turning the knife. “Now picture her barely looking at you,

hardly pausing, because she’s ‘enjoying it so much’. She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even alter her position. Wasn’t that what Sacha saw that night? Now you tell me if you’d go running to her the next day and share your good news. Come on, brother. Don’t let this fester. Accept the loss and get past it before any more damage is done.” As Alek’s anger slithered into a pocket in his heart and scabbed over, a cold chill swept through him that had nothing to do with the December night. How the fuck had he buried Sheppard so deep that he hadn’t even thought about him in the last couple of hours? Maks clapped him on the shoulder. “Of course, she couldn’t come to you. It was human nature for her to want to hurt you back. I’d have fucking killed you, probably twice, for inflicting pain like that on me. I’m sorry, but as much as I love you, even I can’t make light of what you did. With a particular type of woman, I understand having to resort to something harsh to get rid of them. But Sacha? No. We know it, and so do you. You’ve always known it, and that eats away at you because there’s nothing you can ever do to change how hard you hit at her. Seriously, she’s fragile enough that all you had to do was tell her your feelings had died, and she’d have believed it. That’s kind of sad considering the truth is you’d give your life for hers.” He paused for a second. “Am I getting through to you? Because I’m tired of talking.” Alek stared out at the sprawling grounds beyond the garage. They were miles from any other homes. The moon wasn’t full, but it was bright enough to bounce off the patches of snow and illuminate the area. Wandering over, he made a snowball from the fluffy white stuff hanging over the lip of the empty fountain. When he tossed it up, it rained down in a powdery mist after it hit the top tier that was shaped like a huge leaf. “I’ve been trying not to think about the smile that was on her face when she walked into my office that night. It wasn’t her usual I’m-so-happy-to-seeyou. It was different. Vibrant. It was fucking electric.” He kicked at some ice and nearly drown in the regret that rose in him. His fading anger was making room

for the pain. Something he’d been trying to avoid. “Now that I know what it was about—a fucking baby, Maks—I…” He shook his head, at a loss as to how to describe how much more tragic it made something already so unbearable. “I ruined one of the most incredible moments of our lives, and I can’t change that.” How would she have told him? What would she have said? “All of you think Sacha is this docile, fragile little thing who can’t take what life throws at her. She’s not, you know. She’s strong, like Sydney said, and resilient. Think about it. Her parents—the only family she ever had—get killed. She grieved, and then stepped up and got past it. On her own, she moved to the other side of the world to start a new life. She hooked up with me, feared who we are, yet got past it. I fucked her over, left her pregnant and alone, yet, once again, she was getting passed that, too.” “Careful, brother,” Maks murmured. “You make it sound as though you actually respect her.” “I do. I respect the fuck out of her, and couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my daughter.” He shoved his hair off his forehead and turned. “That doesn’t mean I’m not fucking furious at what I mis—” His gaze clashed with Sacha’s shocked eyes. She stood still as a statue a few feet away from a self-satisfied Maks. “F-forgive my interruption,” she murmured as she moved to the limo. She fumbled open the door and bent to reach for something that was on the floor. Lekzi’s diaper bag was in her grip when she straightened. “The baby needs to be changed.” Away she scurried, head down, hair hiding her face, her ass looking downright edible in those yoga pants. “You’re such an asshole,” he murmured to Maks though his attention remained on Sacha. The moonlight glinting off the caramel highlights nestled in her sable hair was gorgeous. “Sacha,” he called before she could reach the door. She stopped on a dime and looked back over her shoulder. He felt the punch of that shy look through his entire system because it was the same one she’d given him when he’d had her bent over the table in her apartment. She’d

been so wet. So ready for him. She’d have taken him and he’d have filled her body. He would have loved her so fucking hard. “Yes, Alekzander?” He blinked into focus to find her waiting on him while he fucked her in his head. “Nothing. Go on.” He didn’t even know why he stopped her. Something skittered across her face, but he couldn’t identify it in the fifty feet separating them. And then she was gone. “Asshole or not, she needed that,” Maks said in a pleased tone. “Did you see how surprised she was to hear you respect her? As the mother of your child, that knowledge should always be a given. She still has no idea how you feel about her, does she? But then, she never did.” “I don’t know how she can’t. I haven’t killed her. Haven’t even really given her shit.” “You two will share a bed, right?” Maks asked bluntly, as though it wasn’t the most personal of questions. “Of course, we will.” “Good. When the kid’s asleep, get her mother naked. Treat her dirty. Admit to her all the nasty things you’d like to do to her. Beg her to do them to you. Crack that reserve so you two can talk candidly about what happened. Syd always spills shit after sex. Says she feels connected and it’s easier for her to open up.” “I’m not a first-timer with this, you know. I’m just wondering if we’ll get very far with the baby. Everyone always bitches about how they get in the way.” Fuckers didn’t know how lucky they were that they had a baby to get in the way of getting their dick wet. “Fuck off. We have two preteens with great hearing. My woman’s exhausted.” He tilted his head to the side and looked back at the house. “Were you guys ever into BDSM? You could always bind her in a way that puts her completely at your mercy,” he suggested with a shrug as he came back around. “Then punish the fuck out of her. There are many toys and methods you can use

that’ll help you gain a sense of control—I think you feel you’ve lost that—but won’t cause her too much pain. Just enough that you might feel better when you finally take her. Who knows? Might help.” Alek shook his head and ignored the tightness entering his groin area. “She likes being handled, but I’d scare the fuck out of her if I ever tied her down to whip her.” “I’m not saying to cane the fuckin’ girl. Just, I don’t know, use a flogger or a leather paddle or some shit. If you think you might want to give it a go, I have a fully stocked cabinet at home. Text me and I’ll tuck something useful under your pillow. But make sure you get it before Sammie changes your sheets, otherwise, we’re likely to come down for breakfast one morning and find him swatting flies with a suede-tasseled crop.” Maks pulled him toward the house. “Come on. Let’s go wake up your kid.” “I’ll pass on the entire scenario, but thanks for that very fucked-up offer. I would suggest you don’t extend it to anyone else.” They were chuckling when they walked into the large, well-lit foyer of the house Alek had moved into when he was eleven. The sound of their humor blended with a baby’s excited gurgle, and he was suddenly tripping over himself to get to the living room. His daughter was wide awake and in Sacha’s arms. As he neared, she turned her soft blonde head and kicked the air from his lungs. Fascination descended. He was looking into his own eyes. Amazing. First his father, then him, and now his daughter had inherited the pale-blue eyes that ran in their family. Vasily and a distant uncle were the exception with a much darker blue. Alek wanted to go down on the floor with her and just stare at her for hours. He wanted to listen to her babble and see her wave her arms. Kick her legs. He wanted to watch her drool and fuss and get cranky. He wanted to hold her gaze and try to communicate the instant, blinding love that now bound her to his very soul. She blinked.

He blinked. And then she smiled. When he saw two bottom teeth the size of a couple of grains of rice, he was done. He held his arms out and was grateful Sacha didn’t say a word but simply handed her over. With his hand cradling her fragile head and his arm holding her sturdy little body snug, he exited through the other entrance to the living room to take his daughter for her first walk. Didn’t matter that it was only to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers, with his ear being slapped and his bowtie getting yanked on, it was most profound experience of his life.

♦ ♦ ♦ Sacha’s heart overflowed with love as she stood and stared after where Alekzander had— They were back. In all his masculine beauty, with his dark blond hair haphazardly pushed off his forehead—and staying back—his remarkably pale eyes dazzling in their purity, Alekzander brought Maksim a beer. His daughter was wrapped securely in his strong arms. Sacha devoured the sight of the two most important people ever to enter her life. Together at last. It was a poignant moment that touched her so deeply she knew she’d remember it forever. “Holy shit.” Rather than take the beer, Maksim scooped the baby from her father’s arms and held her out in front of him, legs dangling. “Hello, malishka. Look at the little pretties staring at me. Just like your papa.” He brought her in and appeared completely comfortable tucking her into his chest. He didn’t seem to mind when his nose was grabbed. “You’re quite the little joy-bringer, kid. Wait until your dedushka gets home. Hundred bucks says he cries.” He held his hand out. “Good God, that’s a sexy look,” Sydney murmured at Sacha’s elbow. Her

purple eyes were bright with something Sacha completely understood. “They do look very comfortable holding her,” she agreed as she watched the men. Alekzander didn’t shake Maksim’s hand but put a beer in it before taking Lekzi back. Maksim transferred the bottle to the table and left it unopened. “No time. Syd has to get to Pant, and I’m going to pass by the warehouse before I go to the loft. I want to get online and take a close look at that footage. Listen, make sure I’m around when you tell the boys tomorrow. Gotta see their reaction to this news.” Alekzander looked amused. “Since you’ll be at home with them, and I’m taking a few days off, why don’t you bring everyone by for lunch?” Sacha bit her lip. Did that mean she would have to take those days off too? She would have to call her families first thing and tell them she would be unavailable until further notice. For how long, though? “Before we go,” Maksim said, stalling before he and Sydney reached the door. “What’s the kid’s name? Didn’t even think to ask.” “Alekzandra,” her father supplied with a note of pride. “But Sacha calls her Lekzi.” Maksim shocked Sacha by coming over and kissing both her cheeks. “Beautiful job,” he praised softly enough that it remained between them. “Be patient while he has his tantrum. We’d all do the same. Just know he’s already coming around.” He gave her arm a squeeze then left with Sydney, who promised to drop by tomorrow. And so Sacha found herself alone with her small family. Alekzander placed his own untouched beer next to Maksim’s and sat on the sofa with Lekzi in his lap. “I will need to pick up some groceries tomorrow,” she said as she mentally began organizing. She’d always prepared Lekzi’s food from scratch, but she kept some store-bought jars on hand for convenience. She also had cereal in the

diaper bag, but it wouldn’t last long. Speaking of eating. While Alekzander had spent that time in the nursery, Sacha had pumped but could once again feel the firmness of her breasts and knew she would have to do so again. Or feed the baby. Angela must have given her formula earlier for her not to be fussing yet. “Make a list and I’ll have Yana get everything you need in the morning.” “Yana is still with Vasily?” She’d always loved sitting in the kitchen talking with the older Russian lady. “Um, do you think she would mind if I shopped with her. I have been making Lekzi’s food since she started on solids, so I am familiar with what works best.” “How about you and I will take a trip into town in the morning. What does she eat?” As her stomach dipped with pleasure at the thought of shopping with him again, she listed off the meals she commonly made up and began putting supplies back into the diaper bag. “Don’t do that,” Alekzander interrupted. “Find a spot…” He looked around and pointed at a bookshelf against the wall. “Over there. Pick a shelf and we can keep some things handy. That way you’re not always running upstairs when you need to change her. I’ll have a small cabinet put in my office, and keep it fully stocked so you can easily replenish.” His thoughtfulness and the fact that he was planning ahead left her shaken. This was happening, she thought as she looked around at the type of luxury only the very wealthy could take for granted. “You do not have to go to the trouble. I do not mind making the trip upstairs. I can always use the exercise,” she tacked on under her breath, remembering the size of Sydney’s waist. She took a few diapers, a container of wipes, and an extra tube of Vaseline from the bag and placed it on the shelf. “You won’t be needing the stairs to get your exercise.” Down went the Vaseline. She cursed softly and shivered as she bent and picked it up.

“Look at me.” She turned on straightening when she heard his command and a sweet gurgle right behind her. “I want to be honest and let you know there are two things I’m struggling with right now. Would you like to hear what they are?” She itched to touch the beginnings of what would be a beard if he let it go any longer but instead took Lekzi’s hand when she grabbed at Sacha’s earring. She couldn’t read Alekzander’s expression at all. “I am not sure,” she said carefully. He brought his mouth to hers. His breath was warm; his tongue wet where he leisurely licked at the seam of her lips. Lust exploded inside her, weakening her muscles and readying her to take him. “First, I want to lay you down and strip the clothes from this body. I want to get inside you and fuck you for hours and hours until neither of us has the energy to move.” She was mortified to realize she was nodding. She didn’t know why she bothered when he’d just witnessed it, but she stilled her head immediately. When a third face joined in on their almost-kiss, Lekzi pressing her open mouth to Sacha’s cheek, she laughed in a nervous burst. Alekzander’s smooth chuckle was the equivalent of fingers stroking between her legs. “You can’t get enough of her either, ptichka?” Him addressing the baby in Russian—he’d called her little bird—was the sexiest thing Sacha had ever heard. “I know the feeling.” He straightened and moved away, taking their kissing birdie with him. “At the same time,” he continued, passing his wide palm over the crown of Lekzi’s head. “I want to kick your beautiful ass out the door and watch you beg for the right to see this precious little thing in my arms. I want to keep her all to myself for sixteen months. Until she’s almost two years old. Can you image the things you’d miss? Can you image how helplessly enraged you’d feel knowing there was no way to get that time or those moments

back? That’s where I am. One minute wanting you because I need you like the air I breathe, and the next, wanting you gone because you showed me a side of you I didn’t want to know you had. A vindictive, calculated, deliberately deceitful side you weren’t supposed to have.” As guilt withered her heart, he turned to show her his forehead was creased with a confusion of sorts. “In my eyes, you were perfect. Flawless. You sat on that pedestal, and I worshiped at your feet. I’m fucking furious you dared step off where I need you to be.” She watched the way his big body moved as he prowled the room, no longer looking at her. Why was he being so forthright? It was baffling. She’d assumed he’d want to keep her in the dark regarding a variety of things. His intentions. His feelings. His life. His business. She thought he wanted to have her here because of Lekzi, and maybe for some sex. She hadn’t expected him to open up to her. First at her apartment regarding the explosion, and now. He’d made his way around the leather sofas and dark furnishings to stop with a few feet between them. The golden edge of a massive mirror on the far wall made it look as if he was wearing a crown. He’d been well named. “I was a better man when I endeavored to be worthy of you,” he floored her by saying. “Now I’m just like everyone else. You should find that disturbing.” He shifted Lekzi to his other side. “But those who should really fear it are the ones who would dare threaten you or my daughter, because if they become my target, they will be shown no mercy.” She looked up at him through her lashes, stunned more by the way he’d viewed her than by the shadowed resolve that resonated in his voice when he spoke of protecting them. He scrutinized her. “Does that frighten you?” It should, but it didn’t. “No. For some reason, it does not.” He tipped her face up with a knuckle under her chin and kissed her. “That only proves something I was already aware of; you understand me better than

any other woman ever could.” Whether he’d intended to make her happy with that statement, she couldn’t be sure. But the result on hearing it had a glow lighting in her chest and a smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. She was falling again, and she was too enamored to care.

TWENTY After an interview-like conversation that consisted of Alekzander grilling her about every aspect of her daycare business and the lecture transcript he’d seen from her open Yale course, Sacha once more found herself on the defensive when things took a turn. He was frowning at her from where he was now perched on the arm of a comfy looking chair, balancing Lekzi on his knee. She liked the way he kept staring at the baby, as if he was trying to memorize her every feature and expression. Which he probably was. “From what I understand, daycare is not cheap. If you have more than a half dozen children, you must earn a comfortable living. Why are you living in squalor? Are these parents taking advantage of you?” “I am not living in squalor,” she protested, insulted that he would be so blatantly rude. She waved a hand around the room. “I do not need two sofas, and chairs no one sits on to prove I make a decent living.” “You don’t have a chair someone could sit on,” he said, his tone and expression so snobby she just stared. “And that sofa in your barren apartment looks as if it saw its best day about fifteen years ago.” Her jaw fell, and then she was slapping her hand down on the back of fancy leather sofa number two. “You do not judge me! You do not know what it has been like living in fear that my ex-Russian-mobster-boyfriend was going to show up and find out I had his baby. I thought I might one day have to run for my life. I saved every penny I could in case that happened.” His brow flirted with the hair that had once again fallen over his forehead. “Ex-Russian-mobster-boyfriend?” Her hands fisted when she heard the amusement curling through his voice. A teasing humor danced in his pale eyes. “Yes. You goons represent something

very scary to us peasants who live in squalor.” Lekzi punctuation her mother’s sarcastic remark by yanking on Alekzander’s bowtie that she’d undone. “You have no more reason to fear me than this baby does. I’d take myself out before harming you.” Aaand there went her heart. The stupid thing started beating against her chest as if trying to break out so it could go over play with the one it loved. “Well, that is very sweet.” She plucked at the soft leather, knowing she’d overreacted because she was embarrassed by her simple, barren apartment. It couldn’t compare with Alekzander’s lifestyle in any way and not come up lacking. “But I was not aware of that this past year so I prepared myself for the worst. And my apartment appeared empty because I had already hidden all of Lekzi’s photos before you arrived. My fragile items I do not display because I do not want the children to break them.” “I see. Well, it was clear you hadn’t tampered with her nursery. It was one of the most peaceful, comforting rooms I’ve ever been in. If you could duplicate it here, I’d appreciate that.” Sacha was once more rendered speechless. How did he know just what she needed when she needed it? “Okay,” she whispered, her hurt feelings soothed. “Were Angela and Steve your first clients?” She nodded as Lekzi began to squirm. “Have you been to the office? Sheppard’s office?” She twirled her rings. “No.” “Why not? You used to come to TarMor all the time.” She shrugged distractedly, her fingers clenching when Lekzi looked back at her. Sacha wanted to take her but didn’t want to “take her” from Alekzander. “Have you met his family? I hear they’re fucked up.” “No. I do not know much about them.” She clasped her fingers together and took a half a step toward them. Lekzi was sucking on her fist. She was hungry.

“So you hadn’t met Vex before?” “Who?” “Sheppard’s brother.” “Oh. Er, no.” Her breasts were beginning to tingle. “He’s the president of the Manhattan chapter of a well-known MC.” “What is an MC?” Lekzi was noisily sucking now and trying harder to see Sacha. “A motorcycle club. Do you remember hearing me talk about the Obsidian Devils?” She’d heard the name often enough to be intimidated. “Yes.” “So why don’t you know him?” “Who? Vex?” “You were with Sheppard for months, and he didn’t introduce you to any of his family? Not even Vex? Why?” A high-pitched whine had her stepping forward as what he was really asking finally registered. “She is hungry. May I have her? I will feed her and then give her some cereal. Or you can give her the cereal, if you’d like. I do not mean to take her away, but…” Her hands were fluttering, and she could have sworn she saw a softening in Alekzander’s face. “Of course. I’m sorry. I was distracted.” He got up and handed her over. “You were distracted by nothing.” She took his hand when he went to sit back down. He’d been honest with her. It was time she came clean with him. “I lied, too.” His pale eyes went flat. “About something else?” “Yes.” “Do tell.” “I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me so I pretended Justin and I were romantically involved. What you said when we were dancing was accurate. I was not very convincing when I told you he was my boyfriend, because he is not. He is only a friend. A very close friend who I adore,” she added quickly,

figuring she should get it all out at once. He was staring at her intently. “Not your boyfriend. Just a friend. Who you adore.” She nodded and forced herself not to cower as she waited for the explosion. “He’s never seen you naked. Never touched you. Made you come.” “Alekzander!” Her face squished up before she could stop it. “No! God, no.” Then she laughed, remembering Justin’s David Beckham comment. “That is not something he has any interest in.” “Then he must be gay.” “Yes, he is.” He gaped at her and barked out a laugh. “Are you fucking with me?” “No. And please do not discuss his personal life with anyone. It is not our business.” She put her hand on his chest when it started to rise and fall faster. “I am sorry I lied. I felt I needed the protection of a pretend—” He kissed her hard, cutting off her explanation. Grabbing her nape, he did it again, moaning this time. “You little witch.” Another kiss landed on her mouth at the same time as a light swat to her ass. She yelped in surprise which had Lekzi laughing and bouncing as she slapped at them both. “If we were alone, I’d be so tempted to spank this ass. I’d bare it and make you count each swat I landed. Jesus Christ, you zeroed in on my worst goddamn nightmare with that fucking guy.” He stepped back and swiped a hand through his hair, shaking his head as if he was trying to get his bearings. “Okay. Let’s do this. You need to feed her. Come on. I’ll show you how much I appreciate that confession later.” He took her arm and led her from the room. “Holy fuck,” he muttered again before asking, “Do you need to fix a bottle?” She tried not to smile. “I do not give her a bottle unless I have no choice.” “Privacy it is.” They crossed the foyer, and after passing by the curved staircase leading to the second floor, they entered a narrow corridor. Halfway down, he opened the

door to his office that Sacha remembered spending some time in. “No one enters this room without knocking.” “Thank you.” She went over to the loveseat against the wall. Her stomach dropped when he closed the door but remained inside. “I’m going to invade your private moment to witness something I’ve yet to see. I hope you don’t mind.” She shifted uneasily and then shrugged mentally. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen her breast before. He just hadn’t seen it in the role of udder. What if he became turned off? He’d always been a breast man. What if seeing the primary function for them changed that? “I do not mind,” she lied as she looked around. “Would you hand me that cushion, please?” She pointed to a throw pillow on a winged back chair. He gave it to her, and she put it on her lap, then laid the baby out. Lekzi immediately started flailing and making a fuss. Sacha laughed. “You silly baby,” she murmured. “So theatrical.” Her face felt warm, the routine strangely awkward, as for the first time, she had an audience watch her do what she’d done so often since bringing her daughter home from the hospital.

♦ ♦ ♦ Alek took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned his ass on the edge of his desk. He knew he was observing Sacha prepare to feed their daughter with an unusual degree of fascination, but he couldn’t help it. As he’d said, he’d yet to see it happen, and felt he needed to. She smoothly went through what was clearly a routine, her movements graceful and sure as she maneuvered her clothes and kept the baby secure on the pillow he’d supplied. All the while, a small smile remained on her lips. The flash of her firm abdomen gave him a poke, and naturally, the sight of her bare breast kicked him in the nuts because it was a gorgeous, round globe of nothing-but-

beautiful. God, that tight nipple made him want to join his daughter and suck until he was pulling her mother onto his— Fuck, he was a nasty bastard. He soon forgot about everything but the incredible act he was witnessing. As society continuously tried to instill, Sacha’s breast was much more than something for him to sexualize. He realized it the minute his daughter’s gaping little maw latched on and began pulling. An emotion unlike anything he’d ever felt before shot up his throat. His eyes stung and his fucking nose burned at the innocent beauty of it. “Maybe you can sit?” Sacha said quietly. “I feel as if I should charge you an observation fee.” He forced himself to chuckle through his tight throat, and he had to clear it a couple of times before he could speak. He went over and sat next to them. He could see now that her breasts were slightly bigger than he remembered, which was only natural considering she was producing milk that provided his child with the nutrients that had kept her alive for the first months of her life. Incredible. “I’m sorry. I’m finding this weirdly mesmerizing.” He placed his hand on his daughter’s head and swallowed hard when her pale eyes flipped up and met his. And didn’t she get him completely when her lips stretched into a smile? A soft click sounded when it broke the suction and milk ran down the side of her cheek. She immediately forgot about flirting with him and got her grip again. “You’ve stolen my heart,” he whispered in Russian as he watched her throat work as she swallowed. Jesus Christ, this tiny human was killing him. “She does so very easily.” He nodded to acknowledge that. “How is she? As a baby, I mean. From what little I’ve seen, she’s damn near perfect.” “Close. She is quite exceptional. She has slept well from the beginning. She is a good eater.” The pride in Sacha’s voice was unmistakable. “In the hospital, they had me feed her shortly after the birth, and she took to it as though

she had been feeding for months. The nurses were very impressed.” Of course, they were, he thought, suddenly desperate for information. “What else? Tell me about the pregnancy.” The pain that flashed in her eyes was stark. It reminded Alek of how she’d looked when she walked into his office that night. But, forever gracious, she pushed past it and answered his question. “The first few months were effortless. I would never have known I was having a child had the doctor not told me. There were no drastic changes until I neared week twenty, but even then I was able to manage with clothes that were a few sizes larger than what I normally wore.” He nodded, staying in the moment and out of his head. Kept thoughts of Sheppard and when he’d come on the scene buried deep, as he’d been doing for the last while. “I eventually appreciated the maternity wear. Particularly in the final weeks,” she was saying. “I was tired more then, being on my feet all day, and carrying around thirty extra pounds.” “Why were you on your feet all day?” She smiled when Lekzi yanked on her hair. She patiently unraveled it from little fingers and kissed the baby’s hand. “I was doing double shifts waiting tables to save enough money so I would not have to work for the first couple of months after her birth. I knew I would be babysitting afterward as my primary source of income—so that I could avoid childcare costs and stay home with her —but I did not want to bring the other children into the apartment until she was old enough to handle the germs that would come with them.” Protective right from the start. How could he not admire that? “Were you afraid?” he asked, even though he didn’t really want to hear the answer. He’d realized after Sydney’s lecture that he’d been so busy thinking about himself, he’d skimmed over what Sacha must have gone through. “Yes. I was terrified.” Fuck. “The labor?”

“My due date was the last day of April. Everything I had read indicated she would come after that, but she came early. Right, my sweet sunshine?” She was rubbing her hand over the pink elephants on Lekzi’s white sleeper. Alek couldn’t look at them. He only saw her do so in his periphery. “I was at work during the early dinner rush when my water broke. I could not afford an ambulance bill, so I had to catch two buses to get to the hospital. I remember being so worried I would not make it in time, but I did. She was born at 7:42 in the evening, not an hour after I arrived. So I guess the labor went quickly for my first.” “Jesus Christ, Sacha,” he whispered raggedly through the massive regret crushing his chest. He reached over to cover her hand. “I am so fucking sorry you had to go through that alone. Why didn’t you tell me?” He felt as if the words should be shouted, but they came out barely audible. “By then, could you not have told me?” “By then I was afraid you would take her from me. Plus, I thought you would be too busy with your women to want to bother with us. I had no idea what I saw that night was not real. And…I was so angry with you.” Yeah, his fault. But hers, too. She was not some conniving bitch. She was tender-hearted. So that meant she’d struggled with herself, and had still made the decision she had. To keep him and his child apart. To rob him of the joy of being a father. He couldn’t discount that because it was fucking huge. It wasn’t her. Not the woman he knew. The worst part was, he’d brought that out in her. He squeezed her knee and got up. “I’ll bring the bags upstairs and make sure everything is ready. Vasily had a couple of the boys move much of what was in the nursery into the room next to ours.” “What nursery?” Alekzander’s smile was wry. “My uncle is pretty anxious for his grandson to arrive. He’s had a fully functional nursery ready to go for weeks now.”

“That’s very convenient.” Their eyes clashed. “Hmm. Very convenient.” He broke the connection. “Go on to the kitchen to prepare her cereal when you’re done here. I’ll meet you there.” “Alekzander?” He stopped and looked back with one foot out the door. “Thank you. I know you are trying not to be angry with me, and I appreciate that.” The picture she made with her hair flowing over her shoulders, her expression open, their baby cradled to her breast…he’d never seen her appear more angelic. Justin Sheppard. Gay. The guy never touched her. Alek went back and lifted her face. He kissed her twice, and then a third time. “Every time you open this mouth, I’m finding I don’t have to try so hard.” He left her with that.

♦ ♦ ♦ Sacha was finally winding down after the long day when the sound of approaching footsteps had her straightening in her chair. Lekzi was strapped into her highchair, and her face and hands were, as always, sticky with cereal. At least she hadn’t gotten any in her hair yet. Spooning another portion into a mouth that was still accepting it, Sacha turned and waited with a familiar anticipation to see Alekzander come through the archway into the large kitchen that housed a massive old-fashioned stone hearth and enough cupboard space to please any woman. But it wasn’t Alekzander. It was the Pakhan of the Tarasov Bratva and his grim-faced byki who’d touchingly come to her rescue earlier. She quickly scrambled to her feet, which put her in front of Lekzi.

“Hello, Sacha.” Vasily’s gaze swept the room. Looking for his nephew? Yes. Now would be a good time for him to appear. “Hello, Vasily.” She could hear Lekzi kicking her legs and babbling in her darling voice to show her displeasure that her supply had come to a halt. Dmitri expression darkened as he made his silent exit while Vasily approached her. “I hear you are not alone. Would you mind making introductions?” She looked up from the steeple she could see tattooed at the base of his throat where the top two buttons of his white dress shirt were opened. Her face cooled as the blood drained from it. So much history would be on this man’s body. That was hair-raising. Too nervous to bother with English, she spoke Russian. “If you would rather Alekzander introduced you to his daughter, I would understand. It is probably a moment you would like to share—” “I am finding myself too anxious to wait any longer. Besides, I do not mind sharing the moment with you.” He smiled encouragingly. “Oh. Er, okay.” Her heart was racing. A loud screech from behind her had her jumping. “Perhaps she is also anxious.” Vasily chuckled. Sacha nodded and stepped to the side and back. When she saw Lekzi looking up at her, she smiled a reassurance, even though it meant nothing to the baby. “Oh, my goodness,” Vasily whispered as he closed the distance between them. The sound of his voice had Lekzi’s attention shifting, and the sharp breath Sacha heard let her know he’d recognized his nephew’s eyes. He cursed in Russian and apologized almost immediately. “Forgive me. I tried to keep it clean.” She waved it off. “This is Alekzandra Liliya.” She bent to the baby’s ear.

“Lekzi, this is your dedushka.” If she wasn’t mistaken, there was gratitude on his face when he smiled his greeting at the baby. Sacha was glad she’d never thought of her child as anything other than an extension of the man she loved—even when she hated him. To give her son or daughter Alekzander’s name hadn’t even been a conscious decision. It had just been something she’d known she would do. She’d also known the second name would come from her parents. Vasily took the baby’s chin in a gentle hold. He turned her face toward the light and his smile widened when little Miss Sunshine’s gums made an appearance. A gooey hand landed on his wrist and slipped a couple of times before it made purchase. “Hello, beautiful.” He sat in the chair Sacha had been using. Without taking his eyes—which were wet; Maksim won his bet—from the baby, he held out his hand for the spoon. Sacha didn’t think twice about giving it to him and then watched as he picked up the small bowl of cereal and began feeding her daughter. “You two certainly make gorgeous babies.” He was speaking English once again. “Eva is going to be excited about this development.” Sacha pulled a chair over and sat. This wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting. “Sydney and Maksim were able to meet her when they accompanied us here. Alekzander told them to bring the others for lunch tomorrow so introductions can be made.” “That will be nice. There is not much I enjoy more than having everyone together for a happy occasion. Alek is upstairs?” “Yes. He went to ready our rooms.” “Forgive the personal question, but how many are you using?” Her face did the opposite of only moments ago, heating up as though she was standing too close to a campfire. “Two,” she murmured. He appeared to stiffen. “If you are not comfortable with that, I would be happy to arrange a room of your own.”

Oh, God. Could this be any more awkward? “Forgive me for saying so, but I am happy with the arrangement as it is.” He glanced over, his brow quirking, and she looked away. He wanted to laugh. She could tell. “You don’t have to ask my forgiveness, Sacha. Your answer is a relief. Despite this hiccup, it is my wish that you and Alek find your peace again.” That made her feel teary. “Thank you. That is very generous of you considering what I have done to him.” “Not so generous considering what he did to you.” Something passed between them at that moment. Forgiveness on both ends? An understanding? Sacha didn’t know, but she was grateful to this generous man for whatever it was because she knew it was in his power to make her life miserable, and he had no intention of doing that. “Thank you,” she repeated in a whisper. “And I thank you,” he returned with a gentle pat to Lekzi’s head. “I thought I heard your voice.” A tremor started up in her lower belly when Alekzander padded into the kitchen wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of black Adidas warm-up pants. His feet were bare. Oh, God. His feet were bare. Had he done that on purpose? He had to remember how much she liked when his feet were bare. Vasily got up and congratulated his nephew with a robust, affectionate embrace. They spoke quietly, and even though Sacha went to the sink to wet a cloth so they’d have some privacy, she still caught snatches of congratulations, son, and you’re a father, and she couldn’t be more precious. As she went back and cleaned Lekzi’s hands and face, for the first time in their acquaintance, Sacha was pleased to see her baby’s pale eyes were sleepy. “It is time you went to bed, my angel.” Mummy and Papa are going to have some alone time, she added silently. Was the excitement thrumming through her what most women felt when putting their children to bed at night? Knowing it was time for them and their partner to enjoy each other?

“Sacha?” She blinked to attention and looked at Vasily. It was apparent he’d called her name more than once. “Yes?” “I would like to ask you to think back over the last year. Have you come into contact with any of our people?” He reclaimed his seat. “Not formally, but in passing. On the street. Maybe seen someone in a car.” She thought for a moment and felt silly mentioning it because it was probably nothing. “I was sure I saw Sergei once. But that was last spring, and it was more the way the man held himself that reminded me of Alekzander’s cousin than what I actually saw because he was quite far away.” Both men frowned. “Where was this?” Vasily asked. “What was the man doing?” “Just standing there. He was next to the school that is across the street from my building.” She remembered squinting through the rain but hadn’t lingered because she’d been on her way to work and her back had already been aching. She’d had Lekzi three weeks later. She was too aware of Alekzander coming up behind her. He placed his hands on her hips and shifted her to the side. “I’ll take her,” he murmured. She watched the surety of his movements and found her gaze traveling to the tattoos on his arms that were generally hidden by the dress shirts and suit jackets he favored. The artwork was of religious figures, and on each muscular forearm was a different passage praising loyalty and the power of family. The broadness of his back was showcased as he bent forward. She wanted to purr when she saw the two muscles that ran the length of his spine ripple as he straightened. She started at the feel of a hand on her arm. Vasily’s eyes were hooded, his expression grim. “Unless we have given you permission, you do not leave Lekzi with anyone other than myself or Alekzander. Not under any circumstances.” As an icy sensation trailed up her spine and she nodded, four men came

into the room from the hallway that led to the small medical center at the rear of the house. Yuri, Dmitri, Anton, and Aron gathered around the table while Alekzander prodded Sacha toward the exit with a hand low on her back. She didn’t protest. As they made their way upstairs, Lekzi cuddled her face into her father’s neck, searching for a comfortable spot to sleep. “Your uncle is one of the nicest men I know, but also the scariest I have ever met,” Sacha admitted. Alekzander’s thumb stroked the bottom of her spine. “The one I told you about that’s causing trouble from the inside; he, or rather they, are getting ballsier. We can’t say for sure, but we’re assuming the warehouse explosion was their doing. But it’s nothing for you to worry about. Just don’t fuss about me keeping you in the house for the time being until we deal with our issue.” He pressed his lips to the top of Lekzi’s head as they entered a nursery. Sacha gaped. If this was a make-shift move in the middle of the night, she’d been interested to see what Vasily’s men would do if they had some time. Alekzander handed the baby over, kissed her and Lekzi on the temple, and left with the words, “I’ll let you put her down. Meet me next door when you’re ready.”

TWENTY-ONE With a fan quietly hissing through the baby monitor gripped in her hand, Sacha entered Alekzander’s bedroom. What would now be their bedroom. At least for the time being. The sound of the shower running in the en-suite bathroom stopped her dead. An image of a naked Alekzander, tawny skin gleaming over his rippling muscles slammed into her brain. Warmth filled her, much of it centering between her legs. Doing her best not to overthink—or think at all—she crossed the room, shedding her clothes along the way. When she reached the bathroom door she was in her maternity bra—yuck; she removed the pads so she wouldn’t be completely unsexy—and panties. Nerves swept in to pause her hand before she could turn the knob. What if he didn’t find her extra pounds acceptable? What if they turned him off? What if she forgot the things he liked her to do to him? What if she disappointed him? Left him unsatisfied? How could she not overthink this? You’re going to use me hard tonight. A trembled moved through her as she remembered his earlier demand. There had been no indication he found her new body distasteful when he’d had her on the table in her apartment. Not in any way. He’d acted as if he couldn’t get enough of her. His behavior hadn’t been controlled or calculated. He hadn’t looked as if he was suffering through her touch. He’d been lost, and hadn’t seemed anymore capable of denying this thing between them than she was. God, that was exciting. And encouraging. She twisted the knob and entered the steamy room. Utter perfection met her eye through the glass door. And, oh God, but

she’d missed that. All of that. Every hard inch. And every inch was already hard. His eyes were closed as he washed his hair and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. She placed the monitor on the counter and devoured the familiar sight of the skull tattooed on his front. It had human hands covering the eyes, mouth, and where the ears would have been. Free of color, it was elegant, and she’d always found it eerily beautiful. He had a new one on his side; a fancy old-fashioned timepiece attached to a length of chain that had a distorted, grotesque heart hanging precariously off the end. Unlike his uncle and Maksim, Alekzander’s artwork didn’t catalog his history. It merely hinted at it. She made a small sound when he turned. The muscles in his back rippled as he rinsed the shampoo out. His ass… Mmm, his firm cheeks were begging for her nails to sink into them as she pulled him deeper into her body. Off came her bra and underwear. She went to him. She placed her hands on his upper back and pleased herself immensely by pressing her front against his wet skin. A surprised grunt came from him, his body stiffening when she brushed her navel across his buttocks. “Oh, fuck me,” he murmured. “A naked angel.” Something rooted deep in her lower belly clenched with need when he put a hand around and drew her in front of him. Rather than kiss her as she’d been expecting, he spun her to face the wall and sent his hands roaming everywhere at once. She felt warmth at her entrance as she grew wetter and wetter from something other than the falling water. He was gentle and reverent, but after that first pass from her shoulders to her hips, it all changed. “Fucking incredible. And still all mine.” A firmer touch sent her forward so that her breasts pressed into the cool tile. She gasped and moaned when he traced across her shoulder blades with his fingers. He hissed when he went down and grabbed two handfuls of her ass, squeezing hard before bringing a stinging swat down on one cheek that made her cry out and her inner muscles pulse with need. “Don’t you ever lie to me again about allowing another man at what

belongs to me. I’m a greedy, selfish fucker, but never more so than when it comes to you.” “I could never,” she assured him with a shaky voice. “Never what?” “Be this way with anyone else.” With a hand splayed on her abdomen, he pulled her back into his hips so she could feel his heavy erection part her cheeks. He thrust in a lazy rhythm. “So this is still mine?” “Da.” Down his hands went to stroke the front of her thighs. He spread her legs as he came back up. “Here, too?” “Da.” He swept between her legs to cup her mound. “This sweet little pussy is all mine. Isn’t that right, Sacha?” “Yes, Alekzander. It is yours.” “It’s only ever been mine. No other man has ever seen it or touched it?” “No. Just you.” He growled. “Because that is such a perfect answer, I’m going to make you come so hard you just might pass out.” Her entire body shook in reaction to the threat, her breathing turning ragged. He stroked up and down her back with his palm, swearing as he shoved her hair aside to lick and bite at her shoulder. “You haunted me. Never gave me a moment’s peace. Not only this unforgettable body. But you.” “I am glad.” Because it had been the same for her. His chest vibrated against her back as a chuckle rumbled through him. “Did you miss me? Did you miss us like this, Sacha?” She should probably play hard-to-get, at least a little bit. Didn’t. “Every day,” she whispered. “I’m glad. Now, you must know what I’m dying to do. Give them to me.

Right now.” The moment he gave her some room, she turned with her hands already under her breasts. She lifted them, offering. “Holy Mother of Christ. You’re too goddamn beautiful.” Desire was carved into his face. “You slay me with this eagerness to please.” “Take them,” she whispered, thrilled when he bent and rubbed his lips across one nipple and fully cupped the other mound. He closed his eyes against the spray, and she looked at his wet, spiky lashes. When he opened and sucked her into the hot depths of his mouth, she moaned wildly, her knees trembling at the feel of his slippery tongue twirling. Then her breath jammed in her throat as her body’s biological role came into play. “I am sorry,” she panted. “I cannot stop it.” His eyes flipped open, and he came off her breast with a pop. “Stop wha —” He frowned and smacked his lips together. He pulled her away from the spray of the shower and watched. Droplets of white formed on the hard peaks of her nipples and dripped off onto the swell of her breast. More quickly followed until streams of milk were rippling over to trail down her stomach. “I cannot stop it,” she repeated, bringing her hands up to cover herself. “I’ll walk out if you hide that from me.” She went back to caressing the bumps of his abs, getting closer and closer to the V at his hip that was making her mouth water. “Your body thinks it’s time to feed a hungry mouth. I’m unbelievably moved by that. How generous, supplying me with a snack as I gorge myself. Get that embarrassment off your face before I yell at you.” He took her nipple back into his mouth and sucked hard. “Mmm.” His tongue swirled as he brushed his thumb over its twin before catching it between his knuckles. “No wonder our little bird dove at you earlier.” He was putting her at ease even while he softened her heart and turned her knees to jelly. “I am relieved that you are not bothered by this.” He scoffed. “Bothered is not what I’m feeling right now.” He pushed

together and licked at both her breasts. “The difference in them is sexy as hell. I don’t mind admitting I’m the one who’s now embarrassed by how this is turning me on. There’s a name for guys like me. Not pervert, but I think I’ve heard of a fetish, and I’m crowning myself king.” She grinned and stroked his glistening skin, relearning the width of his shoulders and the strength in his arms. She scraped her nails down his ribs and brought her hands together with her fingers wrapping around his cock. So hard. That ridge beneath the head so defined. “Give me your mouth.” She was on her toes in the next second, kissing him with all the passion she was feeling. When he pinched her nipples, the pull that arrowed into her core made her head spin. She moaned embarrassingly loud when he wedged his thigh between her legs. He lifted. “Ride me,” he commanded, showing her what he meant by gripping her hip and working her back and forth so that her lips opened and her clit was directly stimulated. “Oh, my God, Alekzander,” she breathed against his mouth. There was no awkwardness to his movements, no inhibitions either. He demanded. She complied. This time by bracing her feet and taking over. She wasn’t going to last. He was pushing her to the end too quickly, and she’d gone without him for too long. She tightened her grip on his shaft and sent the fingers on her free hand down between her legs. She needed to get there now. “Uh-uh.” He snagged both her wrists to prevent her from stimulating either of them. “I work this pussy. You need it stroked; you tell me. You want it fucked; you tell me. You want to come; it’s all about me getting you there. You want to do it on your own; you do it when I’m not around.” He removed her from her perch and got his hand between her legs. With four fingers, he used just enough pressure to separate her folds to get to that pulsing bundle of nerves. “You’re going to come for me now. Then I’m going to get inside you and stay there until I hear our little bird calling for you.” His hand slid forward, and

he dipped the tip of his finger into her opening. Then he extended it and pushed it deep inside. He thrust into her wetness only a few times before adding another digit. That and the continuous stimulation on her clit had her pleasure mounting faster than ever. This time, there was no stopping, and Sacha cried out sharply. She locked her knees as her back arched, and she welcomed the insanity that swept through her as she worked her hips through the brain-bending climax. “That’s my girl,” he praised as he sucked on her jaw. “You give up what’s mine.” As the waves calmed, he kissed her, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers. She barely noticed the shower turning off but did enjoy the feel of a warm towel settling on her shoulders. He dried them both while she paid homage to his beautiful body by nibbling and licking at the sinewy pillows that were his pectorals, his tight nipples, his ribs. But when she went to go further, he finished towel-drying her hair and scooped her off her feet. “Can’t go there yet. You touch me with that mouth, and I’m done.” In no time, he had them laid out on top of the covers in the king-size bed, Lekzi’s monitor hissing on the bedside table. Alekzander knelt, met her eyes, then spread her. He draped her legs over his thighs. “I need to look at you.” Her face started to get hot. “You know that will make me uncomfortable.” He shrugged, his eyes already roaming. “Then you’ll have to feel uncomfortable for a few because I need this.” Where his gaze touched, so did his fingers. Soon she was squirming and moaning, pleading with him for more. He was thorough, devastating, and so intent it made her eyes water. “I am ready,” she said for the third time, panting and trying to spread her legs wider. “It is aching. I need you to fill me, Alekzander.” He fisted his length and pumped hard. “With this?” “God, yes.” She braced her arms on the headboard and pushed down to

meet that thick shaft. A gasp stuck in her throat when, just as he’d done at the apartment, he brought the smooth head of his cock and passed it up and down between her lips. “Yes. Right there,” she encouraged, lifting her hips. “In. Push it in. Please fuck me with it.” He smiled and got a hand beneath her to lift her a little higher. When he was in perfect position, he paused. “Such a good girl, keeping the most important things in my life safe and protected. Watching over them until I returned to claim you both; my baby, and you.” Her throat closed up as her love for him filled her just as he did. He pulled down on her hips and sheathed himself, pushing hard through her slickness to fill her to bursting. She looked away from the spectacularly sexy sight of him disappearing into her ready body and met his eyes which were already on her. Peace flowed through the connection. A peace she wasn’t sure existed anywhere else. Not for her. She knew she belonged to him. Her body knew it belonged to him. “Do you feel that?” he questioned, his voice tight. “Do you?” She nodded and pushed at the headboard to get him even deeper. “Oh, yes,” she breathed. “Yes, yes, yes. So good.” “Where am I?” “Home.” He cursed and gripped her hips tightly. With the hold, he began pumping her backward and forward on his cock. “Right where I belong, angel?” “Fuck, yes,” she moaned as her hips rolled and heat poured into her body. “Always.” The scorching, blissful sensations she’d only ever felt with him swept her up and away.

♦ ♦ ♦

Alek looked at the clock and knew his and Sacha’s alone time was coming to an end. First chance he got, he’d be thanking his daughter for being such a sound sleeper. The darling hadn’t made a peep in the hours he and her mother had been getting reacquainted. He appreciated that more than either of them would ever know. Rolling onto his back, he dragged his limp woman on top of him, so her back was to his front. “Spread for me.” Her gorgeous legs opened. “Mmm. That’s it.” He ran his hands down her body, loving the fullness of her breasts even though he’d been warned off them about an hour ago. They had a job to do soon, and they were ready to do it. He could tell by how firm they now were. That made his cock pound. Passing over the soft swell of her belly, he reached paradise and put a roof up with his palm. Using that as a guide, he pushed his nudging cock into her snug, welcoming passage as deep as it could go in one long drive. “Oooh, that first one is always so amazing,” she murmured. Her hand came back to slide her fingers into his hair. She turned her head and kissed his grinning mouth. He silently agreed, though, any one of the hundred and ten thrusts that followed could also be considered his favorites. She licked his lips. “You are still so hard.” “And your words are slurring.” She laughed weakly then jerked when his fingers found her clit. He swiped that little hood back and used the wetness they’d created to draw small circles on the swollen bud underneath it. “Oh, shit.” Her head fell back, exposing her neck that he wanted at but couldn’t reach from this angle. He brought his hand up and splayed his fingers across it. Her pulse hammered under his thumb. “You have a dirty mouth, Ms. Urusski.” She’d been alternating between cursing and begging for the better part of an hour. So goddamn hot. She nodded and her lips parted on a silent gasp as he went deep. “Faster?”

“Yes, please.” He pushed his heels into the mattress and drove into her faster. As she moaned that hoarse little sound that thrilled the fuck out of him, his mind reeled at the pleasure she continued to give him. She’d branded him all over again. With her generosity, her enthusiasm, her passion. With every moment that passed, she was binding him to her, making him forget everything but how perfectly they came together. The sweet relief that kept flowing through him returned to remind him he was inside a woman who’d never known another man. She belonged solely to him. “Is my pussy feeling tender?” “Yes. But do not stop.” Her fingers went down to dig into his sides. “I am almost there.” He hooked his arms beneath her knees and yanked her legs further apart. Then he sunk his teeth into the muscle at the base of her neck and let his hips go. With the single-minded purpose of filling her, of marking her on the inside as well as the outside, he dominated his angel once more. He could see his cock, the wetness gleaming as it pumped in and out of her. The sight made him go wild enough to make her scream. The urgency to come wasn’t gradual; it didn’t build. It slammed into him from out of nowhere, nailing him in his lower back. He held it off, guarding this moment with a ferocity that surprised even him. Quickening his stroke on her clit, he groaned when he felt her pussy constrict. She turned her head and he’d never seen anything so beautiful as Sacha straining to get there. The gold in her eyes was brilliant and sparkling with demand, her teeth bared. She appeared feral. And only he had the power to sate her. He couldn’t hold it any longer. “Come with me. Soak me as I empty into your body.” She hissed, and as was her way, she obeyed him by breaking. She wailed through an orgasm that shuddered through her like a seizure. Letting go, he jammed himself to the hilt and felt his release flow from his body into hers.

It was an endless moment of communion, made more powerful by the sight of tears slipping out the corners of her eyes. Minutes later, after her inner walls stopped pulsing around him and their breathing was returning to normal, he withdrew his softening length from her body and didn’t protest when she rolled over and laid her head on his chest. “You wore me out,” he muttered as he threw an arm over his eyes. She came up and lifted the heavy appendage. The smile on her face was one he hadn’t seen in over sixteen months. It was dazzling, real, and uncensored. So warm. So…her. He stroked his thumb across the drying moisture on her cheek. “Thank you.” He hadn’t felt this calm since seeing Justin Sheppard’s lips touch her skin in the entrance of that Chinese restaurant. “You do not thank me for this, Alekzander.” She kissed the corner of his mouth before nuzzling into his cheek like an affectionate kitten. “It was very much my pleasure, as I am sure you are aware.” He sat up and pulled her in tight with an arm melded to her spine. The move had her straddling him. She didn’t question him or complain, she simply wound her arms around his shoulders and sifted her long fingers through his hair. “I’m not thanking you for rocking my world with your tight pussy. I’m thanking you for remaining faithful to us despite what I led you to believe. For giving me the opportunity to lift you back to your place of honor in my mind. For helping me get that much closer to forgiving you for what you stole from me.” He wanted to kick his own ass when her light dimmed. He shouldn’t have brought their issues into this moment. Cupping the back of her head, he brought her mouth to his. “Sorry. Forget I said anything. All that shit doesn’t belong in here when we’re like this. I won’t go there again. Sorry.” She kissed him back. “My pussy rocks your world?” she asked softly. He pulled her back by loosely grabbing a handful of her thick hair. Her

eyes were twinkling with humor when they met his. Fuck, this woman was his undoing. “It knocks the fucker right off its axis,” he admitted. Satisfaction flashed and her thighs tightened around his hips just as the thump of Lekzi’s legs coming down on her mattress came from the monitor. Her musical chatter followed, and Sacha sighed. “Thank goodness,” she said with relief in her voice. “I was beginning to get uncomfortable.” He got up first after she climbed off him. “I’ll get her.” He slipped on his robe and went next door to collect his hungry baby, then thoroughly enjoyed watching her mother feed her. It wasn’t until later, after Lekzi was once more in her crib and Sacha had fallen asleep on his chest, her fragrant hair spread all over him, that Alek realized something. He looked down at the mother of his child, his gut tightening with an excitement she’d likely punch him for. First chance he’d gotten and he’d failed to protect her. The result could change both their lives. All three of their lives, if he included his daughter, which he couldn’t help but do now. Had he done it subconsciously? Because he wanted all that he’d missed out on? Maybe. Though the reason didn’t really matter. All that mattered was in one night, three bone-rattling times, he’d released into his woman’s lush, fertile body without the barrier of a condom. If she wasn’t on the pill, well, there just might be consequences to pay for their negligence. What did it say about him that he felt no remorse as he closed his eyes and drifted off into the best sleep he’d had in well over a year?

TWENTY-TWO Just before lunch the following afternoon, Alek left Sacha and Vasily’s broadly smiling housekeeper to get reacquainted over baby food preparation. As he followed Anton out of the kitchen, he snagged Lekzi’s monitor and clicked it off, silencing her soft murmurs. He left it on a side table before entering the foyer where Gabriel, Maks, and Vincente were milling. Two of them wore identical frowns shadowed with curiosity, proving, for once, that Maks had kept his mouth shut. “Where are the girls?” Alek asked while exchanging a round of hand clasps and shoulder bumps. “And the kids?” He had to admit he was disappointed. He wanted to show off. “Vasily insisted on bringing them.” Gabriel’s frown deepened as they all got out of their coats and handed them off to Anton. Everyone was dressed casually, G in black cargos and a long-sleeve Tshirt, Maks in dark slacks and a royal blue shirt, and V in his usual jeans and a worn MMA Tee. Alek would have matched Maks, but he’d had to change his shirt earlier when Lekzi had over-eaten and decided it was his fault. He’d never been so unaffected having someone vomit on him. He’d changed and now resembled Vincente. “Okay,” Maks said, grinning and rubbing his big mitts together. “Let’s kick some balls. I’m jelly that you get to deliver a shock like this one.” He clapped when no one moved. “Better hurry; I swear I saw a tear in Quan’s eye when I insisted he wait outside with Micha. Fucking guy probably thinks we’re gonna take them out.” He winked mischievously as he tipped his chin at the Italians. V smirked. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail that reached the middle of his broad back, showcasing a face not nearly as menacing as the one

they’d all gotten used to seeing. “What the fuck is going on here?” Gabriel glared at them. “You two coming out, or what? You look as if you’re about to go at it.” Alek laughed and motioned them to follow him upstairs. “Come on.” As they climbed, Vincente cleared his throat. “We gonna pretend that elephant with a semi-automatic isn’t in the room with us?” “Later,” Maks snapped. A punch sounded. “Don’t fucking ruin this with that shit. It can wait a few minutes.” Alek paused on the stairs. “What shit?” Maks gave him a shove. “The handful I’m going to shove down the Reaper’s throat if he fucks with this moment.” Alek’s moment. Pride glowed in his chest, and he got moving again. “This better be good,” V growled. “Because you’re getting on my fuckin’ nerves.” “It’s better than good,” Maks assured him as they made their way down the corridor. Alek paused again in front of Lekzi’s door. He felt he should say something but didn’t know what, so he opened and went in first. He looked over his shoulder and took in two startled expressions when a sweet gurgle and quiet thud-thud came from his daughter. Maks looked as if the anticipation was killing him. By the time Alek reached the crib, he was grinning like an ass. His heart oozed through his ribs when he saw sleepy pale-blue eyes peer up at him. It melted completely when two teeth and pink gums flashed when she smiled. Her strong little legs kicked to identify the thud-thud. She rolled halfway to her side but then settled back as if not wanting to bother with the effort. “I want to introduce you boys to my daughter.” A couple of murmured what-the-fucks sounded and, yes, they were clearly men who weren’t used to babies because they looked at Lekzi as if she might break into hysterics and projectile vomit in their faces at any moment.

Vincente was the first to react. But it was only to take a few steps away. He planted it ten feet from the crib and then just stared at the baby, his shoulders stiff, his jaw stiffer. Gabriel scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. “Do not kill my image of your woman by telling me she kept this from you. Just…don’t. And, holy hell, could she be any smaller?” he muttered, sounding distinctly nervous as he bent at the waist so he could see Lekzi better. No doubt he was imagining his own child arriving in a few months. “How old is she? Look at her goddamn fingers. They’re like matchsticks, for fuck’s sake.” Straightening, he gripped the back of Alek’s neck and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Holy fuck. I don’t know what to say. Huge congratulations, brother. She’s beautiful.” He looked down at her and then back at Alek. “Holy fuck. You have a baby. How the hell did this happen?” He cast a dark look behind him. “You knew, you asshole?” “Of course, I knew,” Maks drawled arrogantly as he came right in and placed his enormous hand on Lekzi’s tummy. “Met her last night. Hey, malishka. Told the kids about you this morning and they agreed to babysit while mom and dad get their shit together. Doubt they’ll get the chance, though, once the ladies get a look at you.” He drew back and shook his head. “Fuckin’ minis are crawling out of the woodwork all over the damn place. V, you’re falling behind.” Vincente didn’t even look at him. “Yeah, because you contributed so much to the two under your roof.” He drifted over, going in a wide circle even though there was nothing in his way. He glanced at Alek, and then at the baby. “You have a fuckin’ girl. A boy is one thing. He’s having a boy,” he motioned to Gabriel, “I want a boy. But a girl…that scares the fuck out of me.” He seemed to catch himself, and his goatee went crooked. “Not that this isn’t incredible.” He came over and yanked Alek into a hard embrace that ended with a couple of back slaps that lingered. “Congratulations, man. She’s fucking perfect. Oh, shit,” he muttered, looking at the baby. “Sorry—” His face screwed up even more. “Jesus Christ, I’m apologizing to a fucking baby now?” No one said anything, all of them understanding the guy was struggling.

They watched him bend, his ponytail sliding off his shoulder to sway in the air. Lekzi’s eyes followed the movement. And then the room stilled because V reached out and picked her up. She looked ridiculously small in his arms, and so sweet when she tangled her fist in all that hair and jerked. Alek felt emotion swim to the surface as his daughter and his damaged friend stared at each other. “I remember holding Sophia like this. My mother used to hover around,” he mused. “But I never would have dropped her. Hey, kid.” His voice went quiet and personal as he walked over to the window. “Where the fuck did you come from? That meathead back there, for real. Look just like him.” He passed his hand over her hair and brought his eyes to Alek. “You get that you can’t wonder around on your own anymore, right? Not ever. Especially now. If I hear you fucked off and left Anton behind, I’ll hand you your ass, and it won’t be pretty. Who have you assigned to them? To her and her mother?” “Lucas and Grigori. But they won’t be leaving the house for the foreseeable future.” V shook his head and came over, his face hardening. “Look at her. Feel her. Listen to the sound of her breathing.” He put her in Alek’s arms. He didn’t appear to be hearing Alek agreeing with him. “Feel that? Hear it? That needs protecting. Anton is on your ass for good because she needs you to stay safe. Yeah, she’d have us if tragedy came to visit, but we’re gonna avoid that if we possibly can. You got it?” “I got it, V.” “Okay. They don’t go anywhere without a crew surrounding them,” he confirmed once more. “Got it.” “Okay.” “When Nika gives you the green light, who will you take on?” Alek asked, trying to lighten the mood. His long-suffering sigh filled the room, the expression on his face echoing it. “You think I’ve been dragging Alesio around for the past few months because

he’s good company? No. He’s a fuckin’ pain-in-the-ass who talks too much and needs to can it with the ladies. But he’s at my back because as time goes on, he reminds me more and more of my boss. When my redhead’s belly begins to swell, I’ll have my shit taken care of. No worries there.” He snagged Lekzi’s foot where it was kicking Alek in the stomach over and over. “I better see some hanging shit on that ultrasound or Nika’s gonna be sleeping beside a jacked up Gandalf for the rest of her life. Think white’s my color?” Maks made a sound deep in his throat. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or girl, shit happens to everyone. But we’re not going to let anyone get to our newbies. Never again.” He gently patted Lekzi’s head and left. “He has to let go of that guilt.” Gabriel took his turn touching the baby’s head. What was it with her head? “I don’t know what’s getting to him more; Tegan’s sitch or Andrew’s. Think she’ll cry if I hold her?” “I doubt it.” Alek carefully handed her over. She latched onto Gabriel’s collar and rubbed her head into his chin as she sucked on her wrist. “I think she’s getting hungry.” “I think she’s fuckin’ adorable,” the soon-to-be-father murmured. “Feels more solid than I expected.” “She sure seems to react well to strangers.” Alek frowned, not sure if that was a good or bad thing. “What’s happening with Andrew?” They all looked over when heavy footsteps sounded before Maks barged back in. “Knew you’d start a discussion, you fucking gossips. Andy’s having nightmares and he doesn’t want to return to his school after the Christmas break because the kids know he was snatched from there, and he’s embarrassed that he allowed it to happen.” He fell into the rocking chair and pushed hard enough that he’d have toppled backward if he wasn’t carrying close to two-eighty on his sixfoot-seven frame. “Can you believe that? He’s embarrassed. How do I fix that? Seriously. You’re standing there like a bunch of monkeys. I’m asking you how I help that kid get over feeling like he is. I don’t deal enough with embarrassment to be able to coach him. V? You?” He tipped his chin at Alek. “G, you must have

some advice.” “Think he’s aware he just insulted all three of us in one breath?” Gabriel asked dryly before giving an answer. “If you want to learn about changing behavior, ask Quan. If he can’t help; his sister’s a child psychologist. He can pick her brain.” “She practice in New York?” Maks asked, all ears. “No. Vancouver.” He waved his hand as if swatting at a fly. “That’s helpful.” “I thought so.” G grinned when Lekzi jabbered. She’d soaked the shoulder of his shirt by sucking on it. “Right? He’s an ungrateful fuck. But you’ll get used to him. Now, onto you. Maybe dad can tell us how you came about. Did mom really have the balls to keep you from him?” His eyes were serious when they met Alek’s. “What are you going to do with that?” “What would you do?” Alek asked curiously. He was thinking his methods of dealing—bone-rattling sex with the dishonest mother of his child— were working out pretty good. But maybe he was wrong. After last night, he was finding his resentment fading fast. Though it had lived hot and healthy when he’d walked into the kitchen this morning. Goddamn triggers. After feeling slightly panicked when he’d woken to find his bed empty of the warm body he’d had pressed against him all night, he’d showered in the already wet cubical, which proved he wasn’t far behind, thrown on some clothes, and hoofed it downstairs. He’d entered the kitchen to sounds of baby-speak competing with Sacha talking about the children she cared for every day. Lekzi had been in her highchair with Yana sitting next to her; a wide grin plastered on her wrinkled face. Sacha had sat two feet away scooping something orange into the baby’s mouth. Vasily had been at the head of the table, sipping his coffee. He’d had the Times in his hand but hadn’t been reading it. His contented gaze had been on the incredible scene they all should have been used to by now rather than only experiencing it for the first fucking time seven months into Lekzi’s life.

Anger and that feeling of being cheated had surfaced fierce and bright, and it had been aimed directly at the beauty who’d turned and offered him a blushing good morning. Her hair had been damp, and she’d dressed in jeans, a white Vneck T-shirt, and chunky gold watch. Nothing else, not even socks or shoes— something he’d gotten used to with her right from the beginning; she loved being barefoot. She loved him barefoot. It had taken him half an hour and two cups of coffee before he’d been able to speak to her without his jaw locking up. Gabriel slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “From day one, Sacha accepted all of us as we are. She occasionally showed some fear, but never censure or disapproval, even though I’m sure she felt it. So, I for one, will offer her the same respect. I couldn’t begin to image what she went through after walking in on you with another woman, which means I can’t stand in judgment of her ways of dealing.” And that right there was why Alek had loved and respected this man since they were teenagers. He was fair, wasn’t quick to condemn, and he had compassion for those around him. Those qualities also made him a great leader. “I’d hang her,” Maks muttered as he rocked. A part of Alek understood that sentiment, too, unfortunately. “Maks,” Gabriel admonished. His tone was one Vasily would have used had he been there. “What? I get it. Hell, I told him to give up the fight just last night. But I understand why it burns that she took that time from him. Those are a lot of firsts he can’t get back. Picture it. Things didn’t work out with you and Eva last summer. You went your separate ways. This summer, you run into her in Pike’s Market, and she’s got your son on her hip.” His eyes glinted. “That would fly with you? Get the fuck out of here.” Gabriel bobbed his head. “Yeah. It’s different when you make it personal. So let’s do that. What if it was you? Picture things falling apart with Sydney. You find yourself walking along the boardwalk at Coney Island eighteen months

from now and see her on a bench with Andrew and Eleanor. They’re all bent over a stroller, playing with an arrogant little guy with eyes like yours. No doubt the kid would complain good and loud if you interrupted because you’d be taking away his spotlight,” he said sardonically before pausing a second so an image could form. “Now tell me you’d hang your Aussie.” Alek watched Maks bury a flash of something spooky before a cool grin curved his mouth. “Goddamn right, he’d complain. And you forgot to mention the women in the surrounding area who’d also be fawning over him because even at that age he’d be irresistible.” Vincente let out a bark of laughter. “Did you honestly expect an intelligent response from him?” Before Alek could pose the question again and get a serious answer, a loud wet rumble came from the little person in G’s arms. Four heads snapped her way. Lekzi had a too familiar look on her face; her mouth was slightly open, eyes glazed. Nobody wanted to admit it, but they’d all worn the expression at some point in their lives. With their noses twitching, he and the boys exchanged uneasy looks. V smoothed his hair back when it didn’t need it. “Hmm, as stupid as I feel saying this, that was unexpected.” Alek nodded, his sudden apprehension making him feel the same. He cleared his throat as Gabriel came over with the baby hanging from his extended arms. “Since you made her, you can deal with that.” He gladly took his not-so-sweet smelling baby. “Okay, well, since none of us have done this—have any of you changed a diaper before?” he asked to be sure. “Negative.” “Not yet. I’m safe until spring.” “Seriously?” “Right. Well, I think we’ve hidden away up here long enough anyway.

Sacha has supplies downstairs. Let’s go put them to use.” “There’s a table full right there,” Vincente said, pointing to, yup, a change table overflowing with everything necessary to get the job done. “You want to stand here and argue, V?” Alek snapped. As the scent grew stronger, his face got warmer. “She needs to eat, too, and I can tell you, I don’t have the necessary equipment to get that job done either. We going?” Pretending not to notice the smothered smiles, Alek led the way. Shit— zero pun intended. He’d helped identify the exposed kidney belonging to one of their men after a brutal knife fight a few months ago. But hearing that wet sound? He just wasn’t ready to tackle what would be found in that diaper. Not yet. Maybe not ever, he thought with a shameful shudder. What if he’d humiliated himself by gagging, for Christ’s sake? Maks would never have let him live it down.

TWENTY-THREE Sacha had just set aside two dozen portions of boiled veggies to cool when she heard the distinct sound of a baby girl talking to her papa. Wiping her hands on the towel she’d tossed over her shoulder, she came around the large granite-topped island, her belly once more fluttering with nerves. Alekzander appeared with a pinched expression on his face. “Did everything go okay?” she asked hesitantly. Ever since the group had gone upstairs, she’d had half an eye on the monitor above the refrigerator which regularly flashed all areas of the house and grounds from the security cameras scattered everywhere. “V shit his pants over how we planned on protecting her; Gabriel shit his when she did the same in hers.” She burst out laughing as he dropped supplies she hadn’t noticed he was carrying. “I’m ashamed to say I can’t go here yet,” he added as he handed Lekzi over and snapped the towel off Sacha’s shoulder in the process. He laid it out and pointed to it. “Demonstrate.” She wondered if she was crazy for loving that commanding tone, not to mention his endearing cluelessness. And because she just couldn’t ignore the urge, she stood on her toes and pressed a lingering kiss to his firm mouth before laying the baby on her back. “Did you scare the big bad men?” she teased as she opened Lekzi’s clothes up. Changing her took some effort because Lekzi was well rested and in a happy mood. It was difficult but enjoyable trying to control two legs bouncing and stiffening while happy squeals rang out every few seconds, but she eventually finished by pulling tiny jeans up over a clean diaper. “That wasn’t so bad,” Alekzander murmured as he took the baby so Sacha

could wash up. She’d just torn a sheet of paper towel off the role to dry her hands when her mood went in the toilet, which was fitting considering the task she’d just performed. “Nope. I’m telling you; I heard her.” “I don’t think so. Why don’t we find the guys first and let Alek bring them to us?” “Did you tell them we were coming, Dad? See? She’s expecting us, Nika. And what woman wouldn’t want to show off her baby? Seriously, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were scared or something. Don’t worry, you can’t get pregnant by touching one. They’re not like germs or something.” “Shut up, Humpty.” “Girls,” a quiet male voice interceded—Vasily’s. “Remember, make sure you don’t overwhelm her. She hasn’t had a chance to settle in yet. We don’t want to spook her.” Two feminine gasps sounded. “We’re not going to attack a baby,” one of them said. “I wasn’t talking about the baby.” Sacha sidled up next to a grinning Alekzander and followed his gaze to the back hallway. The first woman to appear was the spitting image of her father, so Sacha knew it was Ava…? No, Eva. Too, she was pregnant. The other she assumed was Vincente’s. “Oh, God.” Sacha couldn’t swallow her groan as every insecurity she’d ever had came crashing down on her. She suddenly felt fat, short, and frumpy. Alekzander looked down at her. “What?” She spoke out the side of her mouth “You should have told me to expect two more supermodels; I would have put on some makeup.” He gave her an incredulous look before the trio reached them and Vasily made introductions. Eva took Sacha’s hand and smiled warmly, her gaze darting to the baby.

“It’s so great to finally meet you. I wanted to introduce myself last night, but we had to leave early. Sorry for that.” “Do not be sorry. Things were…” She glanced up at Alekzander. He returned her look but offered no help. She was as diplomatic as she could be before moving on. “Er, unsettled. Congratulations to you and Gabriel on your marriage and the coming baby.” “Thank you. And yours…” Sapphire eyes so similar to her father’s brightened, and as if she’d been given permission, she shifted her attention. “Oh, my God, you guys.” She went in and kissed Alekzander’s cheek then smiled at Lekzi. “She’s so gorgeous. I can’t tell you how happy I am for all of you. Can I hold her?” There was a catch in her voice that Sacha remembered well. When she was pregnant, she’d cried for no reason at all. After Alekzander had passed the baby over—something they both seemed to be doing all the time—he accepted an affectionate hug from Nika. She said something too quiet for Sacha to hear, which caused a sickening feeling to take up residence in her stomach. She tried not to resent the familiarity between him and the women but couldn’t help it. The last beautiful female she’d seen so close to him had faked some very convincing sex. She slapped on a smile when Nika turned to her with dazzling but cautious green eyes and asked what she and Yana were cooking. The next hour was tense and uncomfortable for Sacha. They ended up joining the men in the living room, and after what turned out to be an amiable reunion with Gabriel and Vincente, Sydney showed up with Micha. She appeared put out because her son and daughter had chosen to stay behind to go rabbit hunting with someone called Jak. Casual talk flowed, though Sacha didn’t miss the looks she kept receiving, especially when she and Alekzander got within touching distance of one another. Her eyes were continually drawn to him when she remembered something he’d said or done the night before. Was the love she could feel radiating from her as blinding as it felt?

“Sacha?” Her head snapped up to find him standing in front of her with Lekzi arching her back and reaching for her. Sacha placed the empty coffee cup she’d been staring into on the table next to her and jumped up to accept the baby. She’d been feeling naked and not very useful since everyone had wanted a turn holding Lekzi. “I’m not sure if she’s hungry, tired, or just needed you.” “Of course. I should have seen that she was getting fussy. I will feed her and put her down.” With an apologetic smile aimed at Nika, who’d been sitting next to her, generously allowing her to stare off into space, Sacha escaped.

♦ ♦ ♦ When Sacha left with her and Alek’s treasure—Vasily still couldn’t look at that baby and not fall in love all over again—she took the happiness in the air with her. Judging by the way the girls grew quiet, his nephew hadn’t been the only who’d noticed the silent conversations Vasily and the boys had been carrying on with barely perceptible head shakes, brief frowns, and quirking brows. He was glad to see an irritated light in Alek’s eyes because it meant that Idon’t-need-to-know mentality he’d held onto for so long was indeed fading. Ever since Renee and Evan’s death, Alek had slowly been lowering his guard and allowing himself to accept who he was. Alekzander had been born Bratva, and like his father and Vasily, and even Gabriel, if another example was needed, Alek had attempted to deny it. For his own reasons, he’d focused on his legitimate dealings with much more gusto than he’d ever brought to family issues. But, as expected, that was changing. Eventually, whether they were in their teens like Vasily and Evgeny had been, or in their thirties like Gabriel and Alek, they were pulled into this life because it

was in the very blood that ran through their veins. And ultimately coated their hands. While it broke their hearts. Bending, Vasily pressed what he hoped was a reassuring kiss to the crown of his daughter’s head. “We’ll be back.” He motioned the boys to follow him. When he entered the foyer, he waved the others lingering by the front door to come, too, and led the way to his second-floor office. “What the fuck happened?” Alek demanded as the morose group filed into the large room lined with walnut bookcases and a matching desk that sat in front of the bullet-proof window. Maks, Gabriel, Alek, and Vincente sat around the table in the center of the room while Micha, Anton, Dmitri, and Quan played sentry around the perimeter. Muscle rarely sat during meetings. Vasily nodded to Maksim, who slid his phone over. It came to a stop at Alek’s elbow. Going behind him so he could watch over his nephew’s shoulder, Vasily saw a video loaded and ready. Alek hit play. The area around what used to be the warehouse in Brighton Beach came up. “Different days,” Maksim said to Alek. “Different streets, same timeframe each day, same vehicle parked at least two blocks from the warehouse.” Then images of the warehouse itself appeared, with Sergei and Reynard nonchalantly wandering along, but stopping every so often to place something in the corner of a window, then at the top of a door frame, then along the base of the building. “The footage from the regular security cameras show light activity from the same timeframe,” Maksim supplied. “At closer inspection, it’s clear the files were doctored. That footage was previously recorded. In one frame that was supposedly from this past Monday, it shows Rusef the Hook walking around. As you know, Hook was killed at the docks three months ago.” Vasily once more smothered the rising tide of blackness that tried to crest

every time he realized again what this had to mean. Alek replayed it then turned and looked up, his head already going from side-to-side. “No,” he stated flatly. “You’re not telling me this.” Vasily kept his mouth shut and squeezed his beloved, loyal, trustworthy nephew’s shoulder before going over to one of the file cabinets. He pulled open the bottom drawer and pushed back the hanging files so he could open the false bottom. He had to push aside stacks of different currencies and a variety of passports to get to the two folders he needed. Evidence he and Dmitri had compiled over the last year of phone calls, blown deals, near misses, and one photo of a burned out shell of a car that now took on a whole new meaning. Rising from his squat, he went to his desk and opened the top folder to show a photo of Kathryn and Eva’s house in Seattle. “Not a word,” he warned as he hit the speaker phone and dialed a number. “Dmitri, have Leo and Nestor move in to block the exits. They are not to let Sergei or Reynard leave unless they hear back from you personally.” Alek shoved his chair back and got to his feet, his expression vicious. “What the fuck is this? You can’t seriously think he has anything to do with what’s been going on. You think he was planting shit in that video? Maybe they were sweeping.” Vincente got up and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Alek. “It’s not just the warehouse he’s going on.” There was an apologetic note in his voice that made Vasily sick because it meant Vincente was already convinced of Sergei and Reynard’s guilt. “Not a word,” he repeated, meeting his nephew’s eyes as his sister’s son picked up the call. That’s when Vasily slid into that place of suspension he went to when having to perform unpleasant tasks. There was nothing to get in the way of what needed to be done. He merely functioned. “Hello.” “Sergei. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No. I was up.” “Good. I wanted to talk to you about Alek if you have a moment.” There was a slight hesitation. “Sure.” Empty tone. Vasily’s heart started to beat a little faster, and he knew then remaining detached from this one would be next to impossible. “Maksim told me you were there to offer a hand last night at Sacha’s place. Did you by any chance meet Alek’s daughter?” “No. I was not there long enough to do much of anything. Maks sent Reynard and me to the warehouse.” “Oh, that’s too bad. She’s quite a little beauty. It will be nice having her around to bring some light into our world.” He couldn’t hide his wince as he lowered himself into his chair. Never had he been so deliberately cruel. “Tell me your thoughts on Alek bringing his family home.” “My honest thoughts?” Sergei asked with a noticeable difference in his tone. It was harder. Less controlled. Which had been the point of the cruelty. “Yes, of course. Why would I be interested in bullshit?” “He should have left them the fuck alone. That is my honest thought.” A new tension entered the room as the boys took offense to that. “After seeing him struggle through this past year, do you not think he has the right to this happiness?” Vasily asked. Sergei snorted. “Alek being lonely would be my choice over him bringing them into this.” Vasily set aside the urge he felt to climb though the connection and slap the shit out of this man who had fooled them all. He made his voice even. “I’m afraid I don’t agree.” “Of course, you don’t. You want him happy, and that’s understandable,” Sergei said unexpectedly. “But how happy will you both be when the day comes where he can put their pretty heads on his mantle? Tell me, how fucking happy will he be staring longingly at Sacha and his daughter on those cold winter nights when the nightmares make it impossible for him to sleep?”

A low sound came from Vincente, causing Vasily to look over. As his gaze quickly skipped around the faces, he saw the same thing he was feeling. Confusion. Indecision. No one knew which way to lean here. Did they keep their fingers on the trigger because Sergei was likely the one responsible for the losses they’d suffered? Or did they lower their weapons because they had no choice but to acknowledge why he may have done what he had? But to them? To his brothers? His family? Was it possible to overlook such a betrayal? When their criminal culture could be traced back to the Tsarist era, even though it wasn’t until the 20s and 30s that the Vory had established themselves as a distinct group, there was a lot of history. Which meant there were many cases of backstabbing sons, disloyal brothers, turncoat cousins and nephews. Why had Vasily never entertained the thought that he might one day have one in his own Bratva? His heartbeat accelerated even more. “I also understand your view on the subject so we’ll close it. Just one more thing before we do; I’m sure there will be a wedding in our future, and on the off chance Alek doesn’t want to remain here with his family, I would like to be prepared. Would you mind accompanying me to look at some homes in the area? You’d know better what would be suitable for young children.” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at the ache in his chest. “If things go as planned, having something ready might be a nice wedding gift.” “Yes. I could do that with you, uncle.” Spoken with no emotion whatsoever. “Thank you. Eva and I were talking, and she mentioned it being too bad her house is on the West Coast. We could have used it here. Though Alek will want something more than a bungalow, I suppose.” He didn’t breathe as adrenaline seeped into his thighs and sickened his gut. He waited for it. And when it came, he could have sworn he felt something in his heart break. “The house on Mercer Island is two story.” “Hmm. You’re right.” He was glad they weren’t in the same room because

there would have been no way he could have hid his reaction. His whole body wilted as his last hope for an innocent verdict was dashed. “Are you going to be around later? Gabriel mentioned a big card game in Astoria. We could lose some money together.” “No. Reynard said Maks has a job for us.” He looked to Maks and received a negative. His attention went from there to Dmitri, who slowly brought his phone up to send a message to Leo and Nestor. Sergei wouldn’t be leaving his house. Not until it was dark and he was being taken out by a group of enforcers chosen by Vasily. “I have to go. Goodbye, Uncle.” Vasily felt the loss as he cut the tie that bound him to this man he no longer knew. “Goodbye, Sergei.” He hung up and explained before he could be asked. “There are very few of us who know where Kathryn and Eva’s house is. Sergei has never been told.” Gabriel got up and started working off his tension by slowly circling the table. “Could he have overheard you speaking about it?” “No. Absolutely not. But even if I’d been so careless, there is no reason he should know its exact location. And he certainly wouldn’t know what it looks like…unless he’s been there.” “Holy fuck.” Alek came to the front of the desk. “I’m so sorry, Vasya.” “I’m sorry, son.” They spoke at the same time just as Dmitri’s phone rang. “What! Fuck. Sit tight. Someone’s on their— Aw, no. Okay. If you can get him inside, do it. If it’s going to make you bleed, leave him and go inside yourself. I will send the boys right now.” Dmitri hung up. “Get a crew to Sergei’s house,” he ordered Maks as he made a call. He spoke into the phone but looked at Vasily. “Yuri, I need you to get to Oceanside. To Sergei’s house. You can’t help Nestor, but Leo was hit in the leg. No. Sergei got Nestor point blank; Reynard got Leo as he rounded the corner. Lock up the house and get them the hell out of there before the neighbors start coming home from work.” He hung

up. “Forgive my disrespect, but you, get that fuckin’ look off your face,” he said, pointing the phone at Vasily. “You are not going over there. For all we know, they could be waiting for you or Alek to show. I do not know what Sergei’s end game is, but I can tell you this; it won’t be either of you.”

TWENTY-FOUR The following days were busy ones for Sacha. She arranged personal visits with her families to let them know she would be going on an indefinite hiatus. The more she’d thought about it, the clearer it became that continuing with her small operation wouldn’t be possible, only one of the reasons being she would now be living almost an hour away from Sunnyside. Unless she and Alekzander eventually returned to their apartment. Even then, Manhattan wasn’t Queens, and the convenience of being readily available and right in her clients’ backyard had been an attractive bonus in their eyes. She’d been stunned when Alekzander had offered to find her some commercial space where she could open a permanent daycare. She’d feigned interest in the bare trees that had surrounded them in the woods behind the house until she could swallow the emotion that rose in her throat. Wanting to bring up her hope of returning to school, but thinking it too soon, she’d told him she would think about it but would likely pass on his offer. When he’d blown out a sigh and muttered “Thank Christ. I don’t know who we’d have assigned to watch over you and a nursery full of babies”, she’d laughed at the imagery and nudged him off the well-trodden path they were traveling. He’d snagged her by the hand and pulled her against him, careful not to crush Lekzi, who was in her baby carrier on Sacha’s front. He’d kissed his daughter first, and then Sacha, unconcerned that Anton and Grigori had been ten feet behind, accompanying them on their morning walk. Today was the day she would let go of her last family. And since she would be in the neighborhood of the women’s center, she was taking advantage and had arranged to meet Angela for lunch. As Alekzander brought Lekzi out and strapped her into the already warmed up Maybach, his brow was down low, and he kept exchanging those silent looks with Grigori and Lucas,

communicating who-knew-what. “Where is your vehicle?” she asked, wondering why they were taking his uncle’s car again. They’d used it to go into town the day before. “Still at the convention center,” he said absently. “I haven’t had time to pick it up. Maybe we’ll go by and get it on our way home.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Anton shake his head, nixing the idea. She knew by the many closed-door meetings the men had been having something was going on, just not what. She was relieved not to be the only one. When Alekzander’s friends dropped in, they’d gotten into the habit of bringing their women. Sacha had taken to gathering the ladies around the kitchen table, and while she puttered about making tea, leaving them to fawn over Lekzi, they would all speculate about might have happened to cause this new upset. Last night, she’d again asked Alekzander if she and Lekzi were in any danger. He’d told her as long as she didn’t wander off on her own for any reason, no one was getting anywhere near them. As the garage door went up to let in the crisp winter air, Sacha gave the tip of her nose a rub. “Um, can I ask you something?” She looked out to see bright white clouds interspersed with dark gray ones, indicating snow might be on the way. “I, uh, thought I might ask Angela to go Christmas shopping next week. Is there any reason that would not be all right?” If it were dangerous, he would veto the idea outright, and she would know for certain he wasn’t telling her the whole story. She waited for him to straightened from clipping Lekzi’s car seat into its base. He looked intimidating and unapproachable today in his suit and coat with his hair slicked back. “That should be fine. Arrange it, but don’t mention a time or place yet. Specify the day you’ll go, and on your way into the city on that day, you can tell your shy friend you’ll pick her and her son up within the hour.” She couldn’t say whether he was being insulting or facetious. “She can text her husband her

location once you two have settled somewhere, but not where you’ll be going afterward if you plan on traveling from store to store. And, I’m afraid you’ll be taking more than Grigori and Lucas with you. They’ll be visible, but a small team won’t be.” She bit her lip and took her brand new iPhone out to look at the time. An invisible team? “Are you sure everything is all right, Alekzander? I mean, I know something is going on, but are you sure it is not something I should be worried about?” That wasn’t what she’d wanted to ask right then, but… A myriad of emotions danced through his pale eyes as he stared down at her. All were marked with possession, and all were so raw and violent she couldn’t hide the shiver that feathered the length of her spine. He smiled when he felt it and lightly trailed his knuckles down her side. “No, angel. You don’t have to worry. I’m doing enough of that for all of us.” He didn’t look particularly concerned as he tilted her head up with his thumb under her chin and kissed her. “Get in.” “What is it that is troubling you?” she asked, ignoring the order. “Many things. But at this moment, getting through traffic to get you to your appointment on time would top the list. Get in. We’ll talk on our way.” She frowned. “You are coming with me?” she squeaked, the possibility dashing her plans before she could even voice them. “I’m coming with you. I have a few conference calls that I can easily take part in from the car. It won’t be the first time I’ve done so.” “And you will sit at the curb while Angela and I have lunch?” He nodded and looked at his watch, then he snagged her hand and tickled her palm with his fingertips before she could rub at her tingling nose again. “What’s on your mind, Sacha?” She took his arm and led him out into the sunshine, away from Anton and the others. “I, er, wanted to ask you something but am hesitant because I am afraid it will upset you.” “Regarding what?” he asked curiously.

“Lunch.” “Just ask.” She nodded and swallowed her trepidation. And didn’t it just figure a cloud would pass in front of the sun right at that exact moment as if foreshadowing a coming storm? “I wanted to call Justin to see if he is available to meet Angela and me,” she rushed out. “I miss him,” she added quickly, then kept on when a dark blanket fell over Alekzander’s features. “He is a wonderful man, and if you would just give him a chance, I am sure you would like him. He has been a good friend to me, Alekzander, and I have no intention of cutting him out of my life.” “Really.” “Yes.” “You ever meet any of his boyfriends?” The disparaging tone he used had her brow tightening. “He does not have boyfriends,” she defended. “He is not a philanderer. If he were with someone, he would consider that man his partner. Have you met all of Tegan’s boyfriends?” His head slowly swiveled her way. He’d been watching Anton as he talked to Lekzi. All the men seemed to enjoy her. “Why would you bring Tegan into this?” “Because I think you feel threatened by Justin.” Her fault. “The same way I felt when I first met Tegan, and now Nika, and Sydney, too, but only for a short time. I have no choice but to watch those beautiful women touch you and kiss you and tell you their secrets.” The insecurities she’d been battling every time the girls came around rushed out in a tumble of words. Not that she’d seen Tegan since she’d been back. “I can tell you, I am glad you and Eva are related. If not, I would find it tough to watch you stand in the corner and have your intent conversations with your heads almost touching as you look at your cell phones. I see you interacting with them with such familiarity, and I cannot help but remember how you held that woman in your office. As if you had done the same many times before. You appeared very comfortable with her.”

She stepped away from him, no longer wanting him to touch her. She felt silly voicing this when she now knew why he’d been holding that woman so convincingly. But she supposed sounding like a harpy was better than burying her anxiety and letting it become something more than what it actually was. “Why should you not have to suffer just a little?” she muttered as she tightened her wrap around her shoulders. “I will not sit in his lap, for goodness sake. Like that woman did in yours,” she added pettily. “If you were nicer to him, Justin would probably prefer to have lunch with you rather than me, so I do not know why this should be a problem.” She finally looked up, exasperated because he still hadn’t said anything. He was regarding her with a small smile playing around his mouth. With lazy movements, he came to her and took the corners of her wrap. He twisted them once around his fist and used the hold to draw her in until their chests were touching. His lips were cool where he pressed them to the top of her cheekbone, leaving them there while he spoke. “I am sorry I created that sense of mistrust in you, but would be sorrier if you hadn’t led me to believe you were sharing your friend’s bed. I would feel extra sorry if I wasn’t so goddamn jealous that he’s known my daughter her whole life while I can count on my fingers the days since I met her. And that remorse would be genuine if the fucking idiot hadn’t played along, relishing the torture he was inflicting by letting me believe he was fucking my woman.” She was thoroughly kissed before he brought her over and bundled her into the car. Proving he could be reasonable, despite his Mine Complex, Alekzander gave in and Sacha called Justin. She ended up having a delightful lunch with her two best friends and a happily mauled Lekzi. But no matter how many times she texted and asked Alekzander to join them, he refused, claiming he was in the middle of a call. She wouldn’t let him get away with that next time. And it was trivial little matters like those that peppered the days that followed as a comfortable routine was established. There was an underlying

mutual distrust between them that seem to fade little by little with each veiled comment or snooty remark they tossed at each other. Alekzander found her under-the-breath digs amusing, but it was his that were funny because he’d taken to slipping zingers into conversations he had with Lekzi that Sacha couldn’t help but overhear. But the humor surrounding their issues didn’t change the fact that they had them and they would have to be dealt with at some point. The only time all pretense between them fell away and Sacha revealed how completely she’d surrendered to her Russian was when they were in bed. There was nowhere for her hide then. She couldn’t pretend she was anything but his. The thing that made that more bearable than humiliating was with every touch, every whispered word and scorching kiss, every climax they shared, Alekzander never once tried to pretend he was anything but hers.

♦ ♦ ♦ “It’s funny how once they reach a certain age, they just aren’t that into you anymore. Seriously, enjoy it when it comes, girls, because the adoration doesn’t last.” Sydney rested the knife she was using to cut a cantaloupe with and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m afraid to voice this, but, I think I hear a clock ticking.” She brought her head to rights and looked at them, waiting for a reaction. Sacha, who could see her through the reflection in the kitchen window, turned from where snow was pelting the glass from the force of the winds. She looked at the clock on the far wall. She’d never heard it tick, she thought with a frown as she placed the basket of bread in the center of the table and went back to finish chopping the salad. “It’s the fumes she’s putting off,” Nika said, pointing her handful of

cutlery at Eva. “They’re affecting everyone. Vincente is driving me crazy.” “Gabriel said he was dead set against having kids until you came along.” Eva placed the last of the glasses around the table and went back to claim the chair in front of Lekzi, who was in her highchair playing more with her small squares of cheese than eating them. “Has he told you he only wants a boy?” Nika’s brows pinched together. “No. He didn’t have to tell me that. I’ve had pregnancy nightmares where I go for an ultrasound, and the doctor tells me I’m having triplets; all girls. Can you imagine?” She sifted her fingers through Lekzi’s hair on her way by. “Are you really thinking of having another one?” she asked Sydney. “Maksim and I haven’t talked about it yet, but I’m seriously considering bringing it up the next time he seems receptive. Or we could just find Jak a woman to knock up, and he can give me back the two children I already have.” Eva came over and put a few pieces of banana on a plate to bring back to the baby. “Gabriel said he hasn’t seen Jak so normal since he came back from Afghanistan. He says being around the kids is doing his veteran a world of good.” “Is there anything your husband doesn’t talk to you about?” Nika grumped as she walked by with two pitchers of ice water. “Yes. Plenty.” “Speaking of talking,” Sydney said as she sidled up next to Sacha and bumped hips with her. “The girls and I are dying to stick our noses into your business.” She pulled over the colorful fruit tray she was preparing and continued with her work; slicing strawberries now. “Sydney…” Eva turned from the quiet conversation she’d been having with Lekzi. At the same time, Nika, who’d taken up her spoons and knives again, murmured, “She’s in a good mood. I don’t think now’s the time…” The Australian gaped at them. “Weren’t you the ones who were saying we had to get her to open up soon because the not knowing was annoying?”

Nika turned away. “Yeah, but…” Eva blushed. “Well, yeah. But, listen, Sacha, we really are dying to know why you kept this sweet peanut a secret. But if you’re not comfortable talking to us about it, please don’t feel obligated. We’ll understand.” Even though her tone was light, Sacha could see it was more than curiosity that had Eva asking after her cousin’s daughter. Sacha was pretty sure there was a protective element to the inquiry. As she glanced at the door, wishing Alekzander would come prowling in, Sydney surprised Sacha by sharing first. “You probably think I’m obnoxious the way I’ve been acting so familiar with you. I’m not really. It’s just that I feel a connection because, um, our stories are so similar. You know?” She flashed her pearly smile and looked as uncomfortable as Sacha had ever seen her. “I, uh, understand what you went through better than you think.” She picked out a strip of cucumber peel that went in with the slices Sacha had just tossed in the bowl. That drew Sacha’s eye to her lovely manicure, and the even lovelier diamond on her ring finger. As Sydney continued to talk, she used one of Sacha’s tricks and hid behind her hair as she finished preparing her fruit tray. “Andrew has never known his father. The last time I spoke to Colin, I was seventeen and standing on his front stoop, humiliated, scared, and furious because he was shoving money at me to have an abortion. Your dad tried messing with my head about that, by the way,” she said to Eva. “Used his experience with you to plant the seed that I might have made a mistake keeping Andrew away from his father. It got to me, and—Maksim would probably kill me if he knew—but I got on one of his computers just to see where Colin had ended up. I’m proud to say my instincts were dead-on. Six years ago, a thrice divorced Colin was charged with embezzlement and sentenced to four years in prison and one-year house arrest. Apparently, he didn’t understand that house arrest also meant he wasn’t allowed to leave the country, because he was caught on a fishing boat headed for Japan, carrying enough cash to solve the mystery as to where the embezzled funds had ended up. He won’t be out again for a few years.”

She went to the fridge to get a watermelon, and Sacha was almost positive her lavender and white yoga sweats had to be a child’s large. A quick glance at a very tight butt had Sacha vowing to take Lekzi on longer walks. Maybe she could start running with Alekzander in the mornings. Sydney nodded at Nika and Eva, who’d both stopped what they were doing to stare at her. “They’re looking at me like that because I’m not one to air my personal business.” “She isn’t,” Nika confirmed. “It’s true,” Eva seconded. “We’re thinking because the guys are being so tight-lipped, they must be in protect-mode. Alek must have been a real dick. Am I right?” Sacha laughed and brought the knife and cutting board to the sink where she rinsed her hands. “Yes. He was a dick,” she agreed as she tore off some paper towel. After tossing it, she went and picked Lekzi up to gently bob her on her hip, as was her habit. She hated to use the baby as a shield, but she knew she was. “But I now understand why.” “What did he do?” Nika asked with a wary frown. Because Alekzander had told her a little about the beautiful redhead’s violent history, Sacha gave in and offered them the short version of the worst moment of her life. If only to reassure Nika it wasn’t anything close to the horror she’d been through at the hands of her deceased husband. The girls’ expressions of dismay were a comfort. “Holy shit balls.” Nika dropped the silverware on the table and walked around shaking her hands out. “I would have died. Holy shit, Sacha. One of the most amazing moments of your life…ruined. So unfair how men can do that to us, just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “How did you find the strength to walk out of there? I’m afraid I wouldn’t have been so classy.” She gave Eva a wide-eyed look. “Can you imagine what I would have done? Oh, no,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t have walked away. Maybe at one time, but not now.”

“I have a feeling you’d have channeled your inner Caleb,” Eva said before explaining, “That’s her brother. He’s a big teddy bear bad-ass with a nasty temper and a protective streak that stretches from here to Seattle.” Nika looked thoughtful and a little ill as she began twisting the bottom on her bright hair. “No. I’m pretty sure I’d have taken it further. If I walked in on Vincente and some woman, I wouldn’t channel my brother. I’d channel my Reaper and totally wreck the bitch. And him? Oh, God. After I gathered the pieces of my heart, it would get ugly.” Sydney’s snicker had Nika pretending to hand the mic off to her. “What would you do?” Sydney put the knife down and folded her hands on the counter as she tapped her tongue on the inside of her top teeth. When she reached over to take the imaginary microphone, she gave them a sly smile edged with something deliciously vindictive. “I’d take Jerome and his cousin—they’re two of my meanest bouncers at the club,” she said to Sacha. “I’d take them to an unknown location and film the dirtiest BBC porn ever made. Then I’d program it to play on a loop on every one of Russia’s computer screens. Oh, and it would be in HD. Oh! Oh! And the volume would be locked on ten.” She figuratively dropped the mic and rocked back on her heels, looking smug. “You?” she asked Eva. Sacha was surprised crickets didn’t chirp when they all just stared at her. Sydney’s smile fell. “What? Too much? I wouldn’t actually have the nerve to do it. We’re talking hypothetical, hit-them-where-it-hurts, right?” Nika leaned across the island with her hand held up for a high five. “You’re nasty. If it ever happens, I’m calling you.” Eva sat back in her chair, a hand on her belly, her expression sheepish. “If I caught Gabriel with another woman, after I died, I’d wimp out and call my dad.” It was Sacha’s turn to circle around Nika and bend. Holding Lekzi’s hand up for a high-five from the Pakhan’s daughter, and in all seriousness, she declared, “You win.” They all laughed, even the baby.

“Did we really just hear that shit?” Maksim’s question caused the feminine humor surrounding them to run screaming from the room. Standing under the archway was a wall of bristling testosterone made up of Maksim, Alekzander, Vincente, Gabriel, and Vasily. All but the older Russian looked put out. He was chuckling as he passed by the others. “If you boys think a man is the only one capable of harboring violent or vengeful tendencies where their partner is concerned, you need to take the blinders off.” When he reached Eva, he stood behind her chair and rested his hands on her shoulders. When together, the resemblance between them was striking. “And there’s nothing wimpy about calling on your father when you need someone’s ass kicked. It would be my pleasure to have your back, precious.” He offered the assurance with a mischievous wink aimed at Gabriel.

TWENTY-FIVE As everyone got comfortable, some around the table that would seat fifteen with no trouble, others at the island, a few standing, Alek watched Sacha out of the corner of his eye. She was nibbling on her lip as she eyed the men interacting with their women. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about the topic of the girls’ conversation, but he wasn’t bothered by it. Maks, on the other hand, had a look in his eye that was putting a bright pink color in Sydney’s cheeks that hadn’t been there before. Vincente was looking down at Nika as she talked to him while twisting the ends of his hair around her pinkie. He would flash a grin every few seconds as if what she was saying was entertaining him. Gabriel was standing behind his wife, his hand resting on her nape, his jaws full of a roast beef sandwich Eva had just given him. Vasily had moved to the back of the room and was once again on his phone. This past week, he’d been worse than Maks with that fucking cell. After the shooting at Sergei’s house, where they’d lost one man, things had been eerily quiet. Quiet was unsettling because it meant Sergei was either planning, or waiting for a time to strike, and since they had no idea which way he would come at them this time, tensions were at an all-time high. Even days later, Alek was still working to get his head around the fact that it was his cousin who’d done this to them. He didn’t want to believe it, but there was no way to deny it. A man they’d loved and trusted like a brother had thrown those sacred offerings back in their faces. The worst part was… Sacha glanced at him and a little smile formed on her face. The worst part was, Alek understood why his cousin had gone off the deep end. He understood it. He sympathized. He felt sorry and wished like hell he could have done something to comfort the man.

But he did not condone Sergei’s methods for dealing with his pain, and despite the blood they shared, that would have to be addressed in the proper way. He dropped the knowledge for now and took a few steps back to intercept Sacha on her way to the table. “Interesting talk with the girls?” he murmured. “I am sorry.” She kept her voice just as quiet. “I was put in a spot and could not refuse to share without appearing rude.” “Ah.” She glanced up at him from under her long lashes. “Oh, no.” She made a mou with her soft lips. “Could you be upset because I have tarnished your spotless reputation with the ladies?” Man, he loved that playful note in her voice. He dropped his head down and spoke to his daughter in Russian. “Your mother is getting something of a mouth on her, Lekzi. Now, I don’t mind when it’s my mouth, but anything else sort of bugs me.” He made a quiet click sound and screwed up one side of his face as though he felt bad for that. He didn’t. “Once you have her alone in your room later, maybe you can give her a tip on how to make up for tattling.” He reached over to grab a serviette so he could dab at the drool making his daughter’s chin shiny. She put her hands out and it was with such pleasure that he scooped her up and brought their hearts together. “You tell her if she’s at all into pleasing your papa, she’ll dig through the bottom drawer of her dresser, and won’t quit searching until she finds something sheer and gold that has the words push-up somewhere on the tag. That’s all. Very simple.” When Sacha’s soft laugh came, Lekzi turned, and both he and his daughter took in the beauty of the woman next to them. “When she gives me this advice later, I will be sure to listen closely.” With a lingering touch to his waist, she went to the table and grabbed two plates. As she filled them, exchanging a few words here and there with the others, Alek openly watched her. If they could get past the shit still wedged between them, and if he could ditch the goddamn apprehension he continued to feel over hers and Lekzi’s

safety, perfect would be right around the corner. But that sense of unease wouldn’t go away. Not with Sergei out there. His looming presence was riding Alek’s ass hard when it came to his females. And, for some reason, even harder when it came to his uncle.

♦ ♦ ♦ It was dark by the time Sacha finished unpacking the last of hers and Lekzi’s things. When she’d come up to the bedroom after everyone had left, she’d found the missing duffle bags, and a dozen boxes that she’d opened up to find full of clothes and all her personal mementos. The bedroom now had her pretties scattered around. Carousels, figurines, dancing couples in full ballroom garb. Some had been her mother’s, but most were things Sacha had bought because she had a small problem that made it impossible for her to pass on baubles that stirred a memory. Feeling as if she’d accomplished something, she showered before collecting Lekzi from Yana, who bid them goodnight and went home. Sacha spent a relaxing time feeding and chatting with her daughter before putting her to bed and tiptoeing from the room with the baby monitor in hand. She went downstairs and spent a few minutes wandering around, looking for Alekzander. When she didn’t find him in the kitchen or living room, she went to the rec room where Vasily had an ornate pool table and a row of dart boards along the far wall. They looked conspicuous amid the stunning landscapes, one of a Russian church in Dunilovo, and another of a gorgeous chapel in Vuoksa. She turned the large TV on and flipped through the channels as an odd feeling tightened her nape. It was unsettling. And familiar. She remembered this from when Lekzi was very young. Sacha would worry when putting her to bed because she’d made the mistake of reading an article on crib death. Tapping her foot, still standing, she tried to watch Family Feud, but couldn’t find an interest. She clicked the TV off and went out to linger in the

foyer. She looked up the stairs and brought the monitor to her ear. Maybe she would take Vasily up on his offer and put the video system in Lekzi’s room that he’d purchased for Eva’s son. She chewed on her lip and glanced toward the hallway that led to Alekzander’s office. She could barely hear the rumble of voices, but caught enough to know Vasily and Yuri must still be in there with Alekzander. They’d gone in with a stack of files under the doctor’s arm over an hour ago. After fighting a chill, and remembering her doctor telling her the best thing she could do when she felt like this was to check on the baby, she gave in and went back upstairs. Her heart was pounding by the time she rushed into Lekzi’s room, attempting to be quiet as she approached the crib— “Lekzi!” she screamed, lunging for her daughter. She snatched her up into her arms without hesitation. “Alekzander!” She raced out the bedroom and down the hall, taking no care on the stairs whatsoever. She screamed for Alekzander again and again. When she hit the foyer, he, Vasily, and Yuri flew in from one end while Anton, Grigori, and Lucas came from the other. “The baby,” she panted, going directly to Yuri. English was a thing of the past. It was all in Russian “She’s blue. She’s blue, Yuri!” Looking at Lekzi, the MD ripped her from Sacha’s arms and brought her to a long padded bench against the wall. He placed her on her back and bent to put his ear to her chest, and then mouth. “What the hell happened?” Vasily went down with Alekzander, both of them landing on their knees. A tattooed hand touched the baby’s face. Vasily’s. Yuri cursed and lifted Lekzi again. Sacha had to run to keep up with the men as they aimed for the infirmary. “What the hell is wrong?” Alekzander demanded as he took hold of Sacha’s arm and helped her along. She couldn’t feel her legs. “Her heart rate is…weak. Breathing shallow. Where was she?” the MD

barked at Sacha. “Was there anything around her face that could have smothered her? Was she lying near a pillow?” “No, of course, not. She was in her crib. I do not even use a blanket on her. Do something, Yuri. Please…” She tried to slow her breathing because she was seeing fireworks. They entered the fully equipped rooms, and it was as if they’d been transported to a hospital. Yuri went directly to a stainless steel table and laid the baby down. He immediately pried her tiny mouth open. Sacha whimpered at the sight of those two white teeth. “Oh, God…what’s happening? Alekzander…please help her. Please. Be careful, Yuri! Her neck! You’re going to hurt her!” “Get her out of here,” Yuri said in a clinical voice that scared the life out of her. “She doesn’t need this as a memory.” All Sacha heard was the word he omitted. She doesn’t need this as a final memory. “No!” She shook her head violently and ripped her arm away when Alekzander grabbed her. “Oh, my God, no! Are you fucking crazy? I am not leaving my daughter!” She jerked away again as she watched Yuri continue his examination. He tipped Lekzi’s little head back and stuck something into her throat. Bile rose in Sacha’s, and she gagged in sympathy. “Hey.” Alekzander came in front of her, getting in her line of sight. He snagged her chin. She tried to wrench herself away, but he wouldn’t release her. “Let me go!” “No.” She strained to see around him, struggling like mad. “Alekzander!” “I’m not letting you go no matter what you do, so stop this before you hurt yourself.” “Shh!” She covered his mouth with her fingers so she could hear Yuri. “What did you say? I did not hear you, Yuri.” “Thank you,” he said, clearly speaking to Vasily. “There is nothing lodged

in her throat. A good thing. Hand me that package.” Sacha had never concentrated so hard on a sound. Plastic rattled. A small pop. Rubber squeaked. “Hold her arm straight.” The sound of Yuri’s calm tone startled her into blinking her blurry eyes. That’s when they focused. She was looking into the face of a man capable of unapologetic cruelty, and Sacha wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything so beautiful in her life. Right then, she fell in love with her Russian’s darkness. Appreciation was born for this side of him she’d always secretly feared. But would no longer because it existed to protect her and their child. She felt herself being moved. It was only steps away, but it seemed as if it were miles. She whimpered, and the moisture in her eyes overflowed to join the tears already trailing down her cheeks. “We’re staying right here,” Alekzander promised. “She’s two feet away. I swear we won’t go any further. We’ll be right here.” Feeling as if she were about to shatter, Sacha held his stare, unable to let the connection go. If she did, she knew she’d lose her mind. She knew it. “Our baby, Alekzander,” she whispered. “What’s wrong with our baby?” She was yanked into the tightest of hugs and spun around so that he could see what was happening to their daughter. She couldn’t, but it was okay. She could feel every twitch and tremor in Alekzander’s muscles. Yuri whispered something to Vasily that made Alekzander turn to stone. Her fear grew exponentially. Yuri murmured something else. The sigh Alekzander released got caught on something in his throat, but Sacha recognized it as relief. A fraction of her tension eased. “Very good, Lekzi,” Yuri whispered. The rigidity in Alekzander’s back lessened slightly. So did Sacha’s. Until she heard Vasily’s voice in the corner. His tone had the hair on her nape springing straight, his instructions making her soaked eyes widen. “I need to touch her,” she whispered.

Alekzander immediately walked her backward, took her hand, and placed it on their daughter’s tummy. Sacha’s composure smashed to pieces.

♦ ♦ ♦ “Poisoned? I do not understand. Poisoned from what?” Sacha’s voice was hoarse from the display of a mother’s love and terror they’d all witnessed an hour ago. Alek had known before, but now knew without a shred of doubt, he could never, under any circumstances, take his child from this woman. It didn’t matter what she’d done, or what she ever did. Her love for the baby resting comfortably in her arms right now was the most incredible thing he’d ever witnessed, and he would do nothing in his lifetime but honor and revere it. They’d just come out to the waiting lounge outside the room where Yuri had recently finished pumping Lekzi’s stomach. Sacha’s hair was once more a wet mass hanging down her back, and she was wearing a hospital gown. Alek tightened his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. His hand was still resting across his daughter’s legs where she lay, sleeping peacefully. Breathing. Pink. “I am assuming you fed her last?” Yuri said. “Yes,” Sacha answered. “Was it something I did that made her sick?” Yuri shook his head. “Not directly.” Alek had heard Vasily’s instructions earlier. He questioned them now. “What was it you were talking about earlier? You told someone to get the stuff out of our bathroom? Why?” Yuri got to his feet. “The only thing a baby this age puts in her mouth is her hands, her few toys, and the things her mother feeds her. I also had her toys brought downstairs and had Lucas swab those while I did the same all over

Lekzi’s skin; no residue of any type was found.” “You swabbed my skin, too,” Sacha said with a deepening frown. “Yes. And I’ll compare what I find on those swabs with what I suspect I’ll find in what you put on her body. This could very well have been you we just treated.” He patted a confused Alek on the shoulder and went to the door across the room. There were two sets of stairs leading to the sprawling basement. One here, and another off the hallway behind the kitchen. “I’ll be up as soon as I have confirmation.” “Fuck that,” Alek scoffed. “How about you share your suspicion, and then let us know later if you were right.” Yuri paused and gave Sacha an apologetic look. “Forgive me. This might make you uncomfortable.” She nodded and shrugged. “Obviously, I am thinking something was put into her hygiene products. Plant extracts keep coming to mind. Maybe something in the same family as Hemlock or Oleander, but neither of those because Lekzi’s reaction would have been different. Since I have seen no baby bottles, I am assuming she is primarily breastfed, and I noticed Sacha’s hair was wet when she brought the baby to us. I assumed you showered?” he said to Sacha. With her cheeks turning pink, she nodded again. “And I am also assuming you fed her directly before putting her to bed, as is the normal way of things?” “Yes.” Yuri went on. “Since Sacha is in no way affected, as she would be if this substance had entered her blood stream, Lekzi had to have ingested it at the point of contact. Her mother’s skin. And seeing as Sacha doesn’t feed her child from her elbow, I can only deduce it came from her nipple.” He looked at Alek. “Had you been at her breast—or her elbow—after the shower, you’d have sickened, too.” Alek glared over when his uncle had the nerve to chuckle. It was a relieved sound, but the humor was still not welcome here.

“How would this substance get into her toiletries? No one has access to our bedroom or en-suite. And you only just unpacked that bag today,” he said to Sacha. “Then it was tampered with before it came into the house,” Vasily reasoned. “Reynard.” They all looked at Sacha when she dropped the name. She rubbed her cheek on Lekzi’s hair. “That man, Reynard. He and Sergei were waiting when I came out of the bathroom in my apartment the night we left. Sergei sent Reynard in to pack that room. He was very anxious to get in there. Could he have done this?” Alek met Vasily’s gaze, and a death sentence was handed down right then. It wasn’t right, but he felt of rush of anticipation. Sacha didn’t seem at all embarrassed when she handed the baby to Alek. She was horrified. “So, I was poisonous to her? That is why you insisted I shower with that awful soap? What if I did not get it all? What if it is in me?” Yuri shook his head. “There is nothing I know of that can seep into our skin to be released at a later date. I’m sure much of it rubbed off on your clothes. I will test those, too.” Alek didn’t mind admitting the excitement in Yuri’s voice was fucking irritating. Guy was a scientist through-and-through. “If you would feel more comfortable pumping once, and then feeding her after that, I certainly wouldn’t stop you. But I do not think there is a need. After all, perfume and lotion does not seep into your breast milk, so why would this?” He inched toward the door. “I am thinking it worked so quickly on the little one because she ingested it directly after it came into contact with your skin. Now, allow me to go down and make sure I am not wasting our time with this conclusion.” Yuri left, and when Sacha looked at Alek, he was alarmed to see something familiar. The return of the fear he’d seen in her eyes when she’d first

learned who he was.

TWENTY-SIX Alek sat back in his seat, tired of pushing the late snack of cold meats and cheeses around on his plate. Sacha was next to him, playing with a cooling cup of tea with her free hand. Vasily was across the way, his gaze constantly straying to Lekzi. All heads turned when Vincente walked into the kitchen. He had his long coat on, his hair was down, and his expression was blacker than a pit in hell. He nodded a greeting that encompassed the table, his eyes hooding when he saw the baby in Sacha’s arms. “You mind if I take Alek out for a while?” The rumbling question V posed to Sacha had the baby turning to look at him. Lekzi’s sleepy smile had him cursing under his breath. He came forward to chuck her gently under the chin. “Hey, kid,” he said in Italian. “I’m taking your father out to rip a new asshole into the stupid motherfucker who already tried to hurt you. The world will be well rid of him in a couple of hours. I promise.” Having learned Italian while Gabriel and Vincente had studied Russian, Alek understood every word. V obviously knew where to find Reynard. Popping to his feet, Alek kissed his girls then sprinted upstairs. He changed his clothes, threw his harness and an array of weapons on, and was hoofing it back down in under five minutes. Anton was waiting at the front door with Vasily and Vincente. Sacha must have been instructed to remain in the kitchen. Alek felt bad for that but got it. She didn’t need to know where he was going. But he’d damn well tell her a gory tale when he returned. “It’s gonna be a quick in and out,” V was saying. “No offense intended, but the fewer of us, the better.”

“Then three it is because Anton is now an extension of Alek.” There was no room for argument in Vasily’s voice, though V didn’t look as if he wanted to offer one. “You’ll call me the minute you’re on your way home,” he said to Alek, then turned back to Vincente. “You’re lucky I’m not sending an army with you.” V looked at the ground, ran his tongue across the front of his teeth, then lifted just his eyes to narrow one on Vasily. He cursed. “Fuck. I might as well come clean since you’re gonna find out anyway. We’re heading to a Baikov safehouse.” The temperature in the room plummeted, but Alek ignored it and opened the door. All he could see was that blue ring around his daughter’s lips. He needed to replicate it around Reynard’s. Vasily glared at him as he came over and slammed the door again. “From the beginning, Vincente.” “Maks got a ‘tip.’ Thinks in a roundabout way it came from Sergei because it’s Reynard’s exact location. To be safe, we had a crew comb the area around the specified building to see if it’s a set up; they found nothing. Sweepers are inside now. Maks assumes Sergei is doing away with a loose end by giving us the maggot.” He turned to Alek. “He said to warn you they won’t be able to get into the apartment without alerting Reynard and causing him to bolt, so we’ll be going in blind. As of ten minutes ago, there were three women and three men inside, including Reynard.” “That’s doable. Let’s go.” “Who knows about this?” Vasily asked. V made a circle with his finger to encompass them and Dmitri, who was standing off to the side, scowling like a fucker. “And Maks. He’d be here, but he was elbows deep in something with Micha—” Vasily nodded. “I know where he is.” V nodded and went quiet as Vasily slipped his hands into his pockets and started pacing, chin near his sternum, his brows down low. He ended up in front

of Dmitri. “Tell me what you think.” “I agree with Maksim. Sergei wants to be rid of his garbage, and he is giving him to us because deep down he knows Reynard deserves whatever it is we do to him. But I do not trust Sergei not to fuck with whoever shows up.” “Me either. Would you consider going with them?” Dmitri looked between Vasily and Alek a couple of times. “You know I love and respect you, Alek,” he said. “But not even for you will I leave my Pakhan open.” Alek smiled over. “I know, brother.” Vasily clapped his byki’s shoulder before coming back to Alek. “How badly do you want to make this personal? Because of the circumstances, I would feel better if you let me send in a torpedo.” A torpedo was a contract killer. There were those who were known for their clean in-and-outs. Then there were others who would take their targets home and make the eventual demise something that was prayed for. “I’ve known my daughter a week,” Alek said. “Reynard almost made it so that was all I got. That makes this so personal it’s obscene.” Vasily gave a reluctant nod that was full of understanding, and it was he who opened the door and led them out to where Alesio was standing next to Vincente’s Kombat T98. When he saw them, Gabriel’s cousin tossed his smoke into the tin at the corner of the garage, kept there for that purpose. Alesio, who was in his late twenties, was a Moretti right from his raven hair to his green eyes. He was closer to Stefano, Gabriel’s older brother, in height than Gabriel, which put him at a lithe six-one or two, and he’d been blessed with a rosy outlook on life that made him enjoyable to be around. That must drive Vincente crazy. “Don’t take any souvenirs,” Vasily advised as he hugged Alek hard and pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “They only keep the memory fresh. Watch each other’s backs. Alesio, how are you, son?” A round of brief hugs were exchanged. “Congratulations on the bambina. I

hear she’s a beauty.” The flame in Alek’s gut burned brighter as he nodded. “You heard correctly.” “This is going to be an enjoyable trip.” Again, Alesio’s expression reminded Alek not of Gabriel but Stefano. “This fuckin’ guy has had it coming for a while now.” “Couldn’t agree more.” Alek hopped into the truck with V, while Anton went up front. Vincente tore a Velcro cover off the back of the driver’s seat and unzipped a hidden compartment. As he armed up, Alek rolled down the window. “Call me,” Vasily repeated, proving he was anxious. “If Sergei is there, you bring him to me.” “With a bow on his ass,” V promised as Alesio hit the gas and got them moving.

♦ ♦ ♦ Within the hour, Alek was standing in a third-floor apartment in Gravesend with two Baikov sixthes sitting at a kitchen table, their heads down, hands clasped on the back of their necks. The place reeked of weed. It had been a near silent entry, the only sound coming when Anton had opened the door and Alesio had gone in first. The lookout had managed a “What the—” before Alesio had shut him up. There were three women on the couch, all with their faces pressed into the back, all quiet. Alek had heard V tell them to stay on the level and they’d be free to leave in a few minutes. They’d interrupted the girls firing up their small pipes. Good thing, too, because the drugs had curbed their fear. In fact, Alek was pretty sure one of them had fallen asleep. “Where is Reynard?” he quietly asked one of the men at the table. When

the guy shot him a contemptuous look, Alek didn’t hesitate to press a blade into the thin skin below one of those windows to the soul. “I’ll pop it out and squash it under my heel if you don’t open that fucking mouth. Three…two…” Buddy winced and got his finger up and pointing to the rear of the apartment. “Is there a back exit?” V asked the other one. “Fuck you. Dead men do not talk.” “You just did.” V pulled the trigger and splattered brain matter all over the mountain of coke the two had been cutting with an unknown substance that smelled bleachy. What was left after a shot silenced by a suppressor was always shocking, which was probably why the guy at the end of Alek’s blade attempted to spring up and make a grab for one of the guns on the table. Vincente’s hand clamped onto the back of his neck before he could move much more than a couple of inches. “My advice?” V murmured. “Answer the fuckin’ question. Quietly. Because this one,” he nodded at Alek, “left home without his patience.” “Second exit?” Alek asked again. The idiot’s lips remained sealed, and suddenly it was the principle of the matter. Alek beckoned Anton over and had him hold their mute in a tight grip, his mouth covered. Getting one of the guy’s tattooed hands in the air, Alek spread out his fore and middle finger. Without hesitating, he chopped his fourinch blade down into that V. The weight and sharpness had it sinking in about an inch. They repeated the process twice more, quitting when they reached the pinkie. “Second exit?” Alek repeated as the guy chuffed through his nose behind Anton’s hand. He got a nod this time. “To the fire escape?” Another nod. “Thanks for your cooperation.” As Alek headed down the short hallway,

his focus on nothing but Reynard now, he heard the puff of another suppressed shot go off. A hard shoulder to the back sent Alek stumbling past a closet. He looked back to see V spin, his duster winding around his feet like a cat wanting to be fed. The Reaper shoved his hand through an opening in the fabric flap hanging in the place of a door, and with one yank, a guy was jerked out of the closet and slammed into the wall opposite. He hit hard and just happened to be head-first, which had him crumpling like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Ashes fell from his hand as it opened. “There’s always a surprise,” V muttered as he dropped the guy and motioned Alek ahead. “Think the asshat would’ve thought to put out his joint.” Alek moved faster now, knowing the head bang had to have been heard. He came to a small area that housed a loveseat, a closed door across the way, and a rickety desk. As he got close enough to see what was spread out across its surface, he felt a wave of heat billow outward as if an atomic bomb had gone off within his body. There were pictures of Sacha and Lekzi. A few were recent because Sacha was in winter gear and pushing the large stroller. Two others had been taken last year—and stole Alek’s breath—because they showed Sacha pregnant. With his heart pounding at the beauty of her, he pocketed them and forced himself to move on after silently vowing he’d get her there again as soon as her body got on board with his plan. There were fake IDs in Sacha and Lekzi’s name, two bus tickets to Boston, a handful of syringes, and two small bottles. One was a prescription sedative, the other a small brown vial with a tree on the front. He picked it up, remembering Yuri mentioning Lekzi could have been poisoned by a plant extract, but he couldn’t read the label because the writing was Chinese. V picked up a chart with doses and two weights circled that were approximates of Sacha’s…and an infant’s. As they exchanged an enraged look, the sound of someone hitting the fire escape stairs and running for their life came. Alek pocketed the vial and grabbed

the syringes. He pointed for V to follow the racket, and then he was gunning for the stairwell inside the building. Reynard had chosen to go up rather than down. Alek dove by the others—had to knock Anton into a stack of beer empties —and was coming out onto the roof within seconds; the only place to go since the building was only four stories. Sticking to the wall of the enclosure, he popped his head out but didn’t have to bother pulling it back to avoid a shot because V already had Reynard doubled over and backing away as he shook his head at the Reaper’s vicious expression. Reynard Novik, the man who’d attempted to murder Alek’s seven-monthold daughter, walked right into his arms. Even though he’d barely had to exert himself, Alek’s chest was pumping, his lungs and heart working overtime to accommodate his rage. To start, he hammered three solid shots right into the middle of Reynard’s face, then for Vasily’s sake, asked, “Where’s Sergei?” “Balls deep in your woman?” Alek kneed the fucker hard enough so that his would never produce sperm again then threw him to the ground next to the stairwell enclosure. “Get him on the wall,” he said to Anton and Alesio. He took a brief trek around the rooftop, sucking in the frigid air as he looked at the mostly darkened units in the surrounding buildings. He felt an urgent need to gut the cocky sonofabitch without doing the smart thing, which was to ask a goddamn question or two. Once he felt able to control himself, he went back to find Reynard pinned to the rough brick. Alek palmed his blade again and snapped his hand out to quickly slash left then right. Reynard’s top and bottom lips split open like two well-done sausages. Blood began running off his chin as the guy howled. “I suggest you shut the fuck up and use that mouth wisely,” Alek snapped. “You’re going to die regardless, but I’ll make a deal with you.” He waited until Reynard quieted before going on. “If you give up some information, I won’t hand you off. Because you tried to kill my child, that guarantees you a long and

luxurious stay in Rapture’s basement, and you know what that will entail. One thing; the best medical care in the world, because I’ll personally make it so Yuri takes a daily trip into the city to patch you up so you’re as good as new for the next round. And the one after that. And the one that follows.” He came in a little closer, preparing to be spat on. “Do you really want to know what the human body is capable of withstanding at the hands of a man like Maksim Kirov?” As Reynard’s bloodshot gaze bounced between Alek and V, some of his aggression left him. “You’re pretty fuckin’ brave pulling this shit in a Baikov stronghold. For all you know, Sergei and some of the boys could be ready to ambush you the minute you hit the front walk. How the fuck did you find me anyway?” Alek had called Maks during the ride and had been told a safety net of spotters had been set up around the building and surrounding streets. If anyone other than an old lady walking her poodle tried to get in or out the front or back doors, they’d be detained and released once Alek and company were gone. And if any vehicles neared with occupants resembling associates of theirs, a warning would be immediate and backup would be sent in. He didn’t share that information now. “That’s more incentive for you to sing.” Vincente came around and grabbed Reynard’s face in his hand. He squeezed, but nothing made it out other than some muffled shrieks. “A fuckin’ baby, you degenerate?” he growled, slamming the back of Reynard’s head against the wall a couple of times before shoving his face away. “Maybe you’ll feel like ranting when you clue in. You think it’s a coincidence we showed up here? Your pal gave us your location because he’s done with you, asshole. Why not let us boot his ass on your behalf for the double-cross?” Reynard’s fury was instant. Alek let him ramble off a few curses before getting him on track. “Any idea what’s driving this machine?” he asked, curious if Sergei’s reasons could be something more than the loss of Renee and Evan.

“Yeah. He’s a bitter, fucked-up pussy rat. He’s guilty as fuck and is blaming his uncle and the organization for all his fuckin’ problems because he can’t get over ’em like the rest of us do.” So they were on track. “You wanna fuck him real good and give us some deets?” V’s tone was all let’s-be-friends. “From the info we gathered, he’s found himself a new partner. Must be why he’s turning you in.” It could have been the lie, his situation, or the fact that Reynard just had a big mouth, who knew, but he responded to the bait and sang like a canary. “He’s been fuckin’ with you guys for a long time. In your camp,” he said to V, his bleeding lips curled up in a sneer. “He and Furio got to be good buddies. Anything he heard last summer about your boss’s woman he sent Furio’s way.” Alesio was suddenly all ears because he’d had a front row seat to the action that had unfolded in that cabin in Washington State. Stefano Moretti had been shot, and Eva had almost been raped and killed by the man Reynard had just mentioned. No one dared move as more puzzle pieces were dropped to filled in some of the blanks they hadn’t been aware were there. Was there anything more dangerous than a man who felt as if he’d been betrayed? “And you personally?” Reynard said, still talking to Vincente. “Your redhead? Yeah, Sergei followed that action. He’s chums with one of the ODMC brothers. Guy tipped Sergei off about the meeting that would take place in that alley where you showed and almost took out the two looking for information on Nollan’s wife. We were the ones who got the porn producer and his buddy out of there before the cops came. They got us in touch with Nollan, and Sergei promised he’d do him a solid and keep him up-to-date on his wife’s movements. That’s how he found your redhead in Astoria. That’s also how Kevin knew where the brother was partying, and that Caleb would be an easy target after having had one too many drinks provided by his Russian comrade.”

Vincente looked ready to explode as he walked away. “And you guys?” Reynard said to Alek, almost appearing to be enjoying himself now. “Sergei got real brave a few weeks back and danced with the devil by poking his nose into Kirov’s biz. How do you think Eberto Morales knew to target the hot Dr. Mancuso at Coney Island Hospital? And his woman’s kid? Yeah. Sergei gave Morales the boy’s school. Said if his kid was dead, why should hers live?” Thank fuck Maks wasn’t there. He’d have struck Reynard down right then. “And then there’s our Pakhan,” Reynard went on. “Back when Sergei found out your uncle had a woman and kid, I don’t think I ever saw him so fuckin’ excited. It wasn’t even a week later that he had a plan in place to take out the little blonde in Seattle. Just after, when he saw Vasily and Gabriel in Rapture, he sniffed around the Italian’s past. How do you think Furio and Stefano learned about Vasily’s kid; your fucked up cousin sent the P.I. they hired a photo of Gabriel with her pretty face circled in the background. Sergei said the fat guy took over from there and found her in a bunch of other pictures he’d already taken.” As Alek and Anton exchanged a look, Reynard grew quiet and dabbed at his lips with the tip of his tongue. An electric tension returned when Vincente did. The air all but crackled with it as it bounced off the shit already simmering between them all. “Sergei said you pretended to fuck some pussy to get rid of your kid’s mother,” Reynard said casually, making Alek’s stomach turn. “Well, he didn’t pretend. He was dipping into a whore when he should have been at a soccer game picking up Renee and Evan. That’s where the guilt comes from. They waited at that field for over an hour. Renee knew why he wasn’t there, and she called one of her friends. Did you know she was planning on taking their boy and going back to Russia?” He looked at Alek then V before shrugging and going on. “What she didn’t know was that her friend was one of Artur Baikov’s

women. When Artur learned a Tarasov wife and kid were alone in a park in the middle of New York, he told his old man, and they took advantage. Renee and Evan wouldn’t have died if your cousin hadn’t been consoling himself because his marriage was falling apart.” The tragedy of it all became overwhelming then but Alek pushed through. “And you partnered with him on every job. Why didn’t you go to my uncle with any of this?” “Why would I? Sergei lined my pockets more than Vasily ever personally did. You gotta know it was mostly about the money. I didn’t get my jollies pouring some shit into your woman’s body wash to poison her kid. But the five grand that was handed over afterward did a good job of knocking the shitty feelings away.” Five thousand dollars? That was the value they’d place on Lekzi’s life? Seeing red, Alek brought up the handful of syringes and punched them through the motherfucker’s sweater and into his chest, right over the empty cavern that should have housed a heart. He nodded for the boys to let Reynard fall and watched as the guy yanked the needles out and threw them aside. With an image in his mind of Yuri inserting a tube down Lekzi’s throat and into her tiny stomach, he dragged a struggling Reynard to the edge of the roof. With Anton’s help, he got the piece of garbage over the railing. Alek held him by the ankles, four stories up, and enjoyed the sound of his shrieks echoing off the buildings around them. “Even though I find it sickening, I appreciate your honesty, Reynard,” he said calmly. Vincente bumped Alek’s arm and put his hands out to take over. Without hesitating, Alek released the murdering cocksucker. But it wasn’t into V’s grip. As windows began to light up, he and his boys walked away. Reynard’s scream faded…faded…then suddenly ended. “Well, Jesus Christ,” V muttered as he came up on Alek’s flank as they

headed down the stairs. “Interesting to see Vasily’s sovietnik at work. Too bad there weren’t more witnesses. All the bullshit questions about your commitment to the life would stop if you let others see this side of you.” Sovietnik. The fact that Vincente dropped the label let Alek know Maksim had been talking. The title made Alek the most trusted individual to the Pakhan of their organization. It said he was to Vasily what Vincente was to Gabriel. When they reached the street, they jumped into a nondescript SUV with dead plates. It would take them a few blocks over to where the Kombat waited with a driver. They would trade-off, and while they headed home, the SUV would be taken back to the garage. The plates would be destroyed and the vehicle painted. It would be ready for use again by the weekend. As they pulled to the curb, the sound of sirens split through the night. But Alek paid no attention as they opened and closed doors and settled into the Kombat. He was too busy coming to terms with something. At this point in his life, embracing the title his uncle had been proposing for years would offer Sacha and their daughter an extra layer of protection. It was that realization that had Alek finally making the decision to accept it. He would give his uncle the okay to announce the appointment. But he would run it by Sacha first because that’s what life partners did.

TWENTY-SEVEN Sergei watched from five rows of vehicles away as the Range Rover pulled into a numbered parking spot. It was quiet in the underground lot, and he was able to hear the expensive SUV idle for a moment before the engine was shut down. The brake lights went off. Feeling hollow inside, which was not unusual, he took one more look around then brought his favored long-range sniper rifle up. He angled the Lapua so the tip of the barrel rested in the open window, settled his finger on that trigger he was so familiar with, and he waited. How many times had he done this? Too many. First in Russia, now here in the States. The driver of the luxury vehicle opened the door and slid out. Not the owner of the vehicle. Not a surprise. Sergei had already known he wasn’t taking out the owner. He was starting a war. He bent his neck slightly and put his eye to the scope, blinking, completely relaxed. As Markus Fane straightened from retrieving a briefcase from the confines of the truck, a steady red dot appeared on the back of his neck. With the slightest pressure, the trigger was pulled. The suppressor did its job by smothering the sound of the shot. He felt nothing when Markus went down. But then, it wasn’t necessary on his part to feel, because there would be more than enough sorrow in their world in the next few hours when word got out that this man was no longer with them. This particular death would cause a damning ripple effect that would reach all the families. It would have been interesting to witness, he thought as he placed the rifle on the floor behind his seat. But his final job would make that impossible. It was too bad because he’d begun to wonder who would come out on top when those

left went head-to-head. Moretti, Tarasov, or Fane. His interest in the answer faded away as he started the car and left the scene before security once more did their rounds of the parking garage and found his latest victim. He had a few more stops to make, and then he had to confirm the attendance list for the coming party.

♦ ♦ ♦ After a meeting with Vasily that had him detailing everything he’d learned, Alek had made his way upstairs. He’d found Sacha in Lekzi’s room, wide awake, rocking away with the baby on her chest. After wheeling the crib into their bedroom, he’d insisted she put Lekzi down before gangrene set into her arms. He’d massaged her shoulders, and as she’d winced through his ministrations, he’d told her about Sergei and Reynard. Now, she was sitting against the headboard, her knees up, her arms wrapped around them. He’d been waiting for long minutes to hear what she had to say about the murder he’d committed tonight. “I am…” She stopped again and he moved closer to slip his fingers around her slender ankle. Her voice was raspy, her eyes smudged with fatigue. “I am glad he is dead,” she rushed out. “Very glad. I wish I could have hurt him personally before you dropped him.” She looked at the baby. “It is frightening that men like that exist.” “I know.” His phone going off startled them both. He snapped it off the nightstand and turned it over to see his uncle’s number. “Yeah.” “Get dressed and downstairs. Now.” Alarm nailed him square in the face at both Vasily’s tone and the order. He

hung up and stood. Sacha’s brows popped. “Where are you going?” He took the time to lean over and kiss her, working her mouth until her lips softened against his. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling it needed to be voiced again. “This isn’t how our life is. You know that. This isn’t the norm.” What if she wanted to leave? What the fuck would he do without her? Without his daughter? He kissed her once more. “Vasily needs me downstairs. I’ll text you if I have to leave.” As quietly as he could, he dashed out the door. He jogged down the corridor, nodded at Grigori who was in his cubby at the top of the stairs, and headed down. He nearly missed a step when he saw his uncle, Dmitri, and Anton standing by the door. “What happened?” His apprehension grew at the grief he saw in Vasily’s eyes when he came over and pulled him into a tight embrace. He hugged him back. “What is it, Vasya?” “It’s Markus,” his uncle said as he drew away. That threw him, but it also brought a load of relief crashing over him. News about Markus wouldn’t be Tarasov related. It would be business. But that grief… “What about Markus?” he asked slowly. “He’s been shot.” “What!” His knees just about gave out. “When? Where? Who the fuck—? Where have they taken him?” he demanded as he jammed his feet into the shoes he’d left under the coat tree. Before he could grab his keys from the table, Vasily put a hand on his arm. He was shaking his head. “Where have they taken, him?” he demanded, deliberately ignoring that gesture. “Which hospital?” “It was too late for a hospital.” He sucked a breath in through his teeth and everything stilled for a suspended moment. “No,” he murmured. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt a slice of

happiness leave his world. “Aw, Jesus Christ, no. Don’t fucking tell me that.” He felt flames come to life beneath his lids. “Don’t tell me that. Not about him. Not that fucking kid.” He threw his head back and walked away. “Where? What happened?” he choked out. Vasily exchanged a furtive look with Dmitri and Anton before scrubbing a hand roughly over his jaw. “What.” “It was a couple of hours ago. In the parking garage across from your office.” He tried to keep up. Markus didn’t keep normal hours, so him going to work in the middle of the night wasn’t the problem with that statement. “Why was he in the garage? He gave up his car last year.” Relief began to seep in. This must be a mistake. “He was found next to the Range Rover.” The air squeezed from his lungs as one of the ten conversations he’d had with Markus that day came to him. Your secretary got another call about your truck taking up space at the convention center. If you don’t have time to get it, I’d be happy to swing by and pick it up for you. I still have the fob you gave me last month when I took it to Connecticut. “Oh, fuck, Markus, what did you do?” he whispered. “Tell me.” He rounded on his uncle. “Tell me what you know.” Dmitri was the one to speak. “He was hit in the back of the neck when he stepped out of the SUV. No evidence of a scuffle, nothing stolen. The police think the shooter was waiting for him.” He shoved a hand through his hair and looked as if he’d just swallowed a mouthful of glass. “We think the shooter was waiting for you.” A quiet gasp on the stairs had them looking over. They watched Sacha slowly lower herself so that she was sitting on the third step. She pressed her fisted hands to her lips. The monitor hung from her pinkie, as always. She was staring right at him, Alek noted in a distant part of his mind. He held that gaze,

finding strength in it. “We should get to the morgue.” He coughed through the jarring pain that statement brought with it, and he wanted to punch Dmitri in the face for delivering it. “Go upstairs,” he said to Sacha instead. “Grigori will be here with you and Lekzi. Lucas is patrolling the grounds.” She nodded and stood. But instead of going up, she came down the remaining steps and came to him. Her hug was brief but heartfelt. “I am so, so sorry,” she whispered with a lingering kiss to his jaw. He pressed his lips to her hair and had a hard time letting her go. “Yuri and Aron will also be here,” Vasily said, and as though they’d been waiting to hear the Pakhan say their names, both clearly heavily armed men appeared; one in the doorway of the living room, the other in the hallway coming from the kitchen. Both were already in the zone, their expressions blank, eyes intent yet emotionless. “There’s a heavy presence around the house,” his uncle added, still speaking to Sacha. “So don’t be alarmed if you hear groups of voices. If you go anywhere downstairs, Grigori is with you, no exceptions.” He went to the door but turned to look at Yuri, Aron, and Grigori, who was now on the stairs with Sacha. Vasily held each of their eyes long enough to communicate the gravity of what he was about to say. “If Sergei Pivchenko shows up; shoot him dead on sight.” Shockwaves swept through the foyer, because the order meant the casualties had just become more important than any personal satisfaction Vasily might have gained from ending this by his own hand.

♦ ♦ ♦ Lucian Fane put his empty glass down and looked closer at the set of plans for a textile factory one of his companies was building. His advisors were right.

This could work, he thought as he compared this design to one for a factory the same company had built only five years ago. Could be they’d make a dent in the U. S.’s efforts to supply manufacturers with an option that didn’t include out of country purchasing. “You were looking at this when I came in,” he said to Sorin. “It is an interesting concept.” His bodyguard leaned over and was just pointing out one of the things that would cut costs by a healthy percentage when Lucian’s private cell rang. He reached over and swiped at the screen then tapped the speaker button. It had to be Markus. His brother was like him where he enjoyed working into the night. Some of their most enjoyable conversations were had between the hours of three and five a.m. “Yes?” “Lucian Fane?” Both his and Sorin’s heads came up at the unfamiliar, accented voice. “Yes?” “This is Dr. Jayesh Singh.” As the polite Indian man offered his address and credentials, Sorin jotted the information down, as was his way. All Lucian took in was the man’s title; Chief Medical Examiner. “What can I do for you, Dr. Singh? And might I ask how you came into possession of this number?” He pointed to a file folder that had come with the factory plans. Cost breakdowns and such. The meat of the project. Sorin handed it over just as the doctor blew an irreparable hole in Lucian’s life. “Your phone number was the first listed under emergency in Markus Fane’s contact list.” Lucian was staring into Sorin’s dark eyes, but he wasn’t seeing his friend of more than twenty years. He noted his heart rate was increasing until the organ was beating harder and faster than he thought it was capable of doing without failing.

“Put my brother on the line, please.” He was well aware his words weren’t so much a request as a demand, and he allowed his eyes to slide closed while he waited to see if his world was about to go black. “I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Mr. Fane.” Ice flashed over his skin. In his mind, he watched a crimson pool form and spread around him as he slowly began to bleed to death. “Explain yourself, Dr. Singh.” The man cleared his throat. “I’m afraid there was a shooting in a parking garage uptown—” Lucian’s eyes flashed open as his fist slammed down on the phone so hard it shattered and went silent. “Get the chopper,” he ordered as he tried to keep his legs from failing him. Sorin was already halfway to the door. It took Lucian a moment to gather himself enough so that he could move. All he could see in his head was his little brother. His innocent, fully legit little brother who for the last ten years had made Lucian beyond proud by taking the business world by storm. Always smiling. Always with a thoughtful, usually humorous word for anyone he sensed needed it. Markus was an intuitive, kindhearted, innocent man the world should bow down and revere. And they would. As he left his Southampton home and traveled into the city, the chopper eventually flying over the East River with the radio chirping what was essentially nonsense in his ear, his lips twitched. He was going to embarrass Markus with the affection he would bestow on him after dealing with this inconvenience. But not before he gave the careless little bastard some serious hell for allowing some amateur criminal close enough to steal his wallet and cell phone. Never again would his little brother be able to accuse Lucian of being emotionally cut off in that I’m-kidding-but-really-I’m-worried-about-you way he had. Never again. From this moment on, if an opportunity presented itself where he could let

Markus know he was the most important person in Lucian’s life, he was going to take it.

TWENTY-EIGHT As Lucian walked down the long corridor, a tremor of pain began resonating from deep within. It grew in strength around his continuous silent reassurances that this was a mistake. An infuriating mistake no one would dare make again after he was through with them. The sickening sense of terror worming its way in behind the pain was a reminder of why he didn’t love. He didn’t have what it took to handle the things that came with it. Usually loss or rejection. Sometimes both. He wasn’t in the least bit ashamed to admit he didn’t know how to deal with either. Both were infuriating and unacceptable, and his psyche usually found a way to deny them. If it couldn’t, it blocked them completely and forced Lucian’s focus onto something he was better equipped to control completely. Or usually someone. This will turn out okay, the voice in his head soothed. That optimistic voice he’d always thought had been meant for Markus but had accidentally been given to Lucian’s instead. It was even and measured, and was usually quite calming. It wasn’t tonight. The obscure presence that also resided within him, the one he kept on a tight leash for his brother’s sake, was writhing worse than ever to break free. If it did, this situation was going to go from bad to run-for-your-lives worse. He should probably warn Sorin, who was a solid, silent presence at his side. He didn’t. Because a part of Lucian wanted that obscurity to come out. It was his shelter of sorts, and he usually felt blissfully detached when it took over. The moment they rounded the final corner and saw a group of familiar faces, Lucian wanted to detonate. They received the same mistaken message you did, the voice soothed. That’s all. Get the facts, and then react.

His clipped nod encompassed Gabriel Moretti, Vincente Romani, Maksim Kirov, Micha Zaretsky, and Alek Tarasov. He didn’t take in their demeanor or expressions, but rather pointlessly wondered where Vasily was. Then he didn’t care because he was in front of a tall counter and being offered the hand of the small Indian man who’d just scrambled to his feet. “Dr. Singh?” “Yes. You must be Markus’s brother.” He nodded, feeling so proud of that fact. “Yes, I am. Show me.” He watched as if through high definition, the man swallow hard, his throat working convulsively as his eyes shifted with discomfort and unease. Dr. Singh motioned to the desk behind him. “I have his belongings—” “Show me. The body,” Lucian whispered, denying the rational part of his mind that was trying to make him accept that this was happening. The doctor hurried to lead the way into a room fifteen feet away. There were two metal tables. One was empty. One was not. The occupied one had a bright light above it. The length and size of the body under the white sheet had a cold sweat gathering on Lucian’s forehead. Something small and scared inside him started to wail. Dr. Singh went around and paused with his hands gripping the edge of the sheet as Lucian and Sorin took up their position. Dark hair, a too-handsome face, and straight shoulders were revealed. Lucian couldn’t have described what punched through his consciousness right then had someone given him a million years. It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t even agony. It was worse. Times a million. It saturated every area of his mind and every cell in his body. It stole the beauty from both his memories of the past and his hope for the future. In seconds, his being rejected it because he just couldn’t sustain it and Lucian’s body slammed into a permanent state of present time. That present time became his safe zone. Nothing existed before it. Nothing existed after. And the present time was a dangerous place because it held no regrets. No repercussions.

Just the now. He forced himself to reach out and brush his fingers down the side of his baby brother’s cold cheek, stopping only when he reached Markus’s strong neck. He felt for a pulse. “Call Valarius,” he murmured. Sorin’s phone appeared in his hand within seconds. “I want him here as soon as possible. How did this happen?” he asked the doctor while keeping his fingers pressed to that inanimate area that should have been pulsing with life. Before Dr. Singh could answer, the door swung open, and Maksim walked in. “If you can take it, I will show you.” He’d always respected the Russian for his fierce loyalty and brilliant mind, and normally got something of a kick out of his arrogance. “How?” Maksim raised a cell phone. “Surveillance video.” “That you got where?” “From the car park across from TarMor’s head office.” Lucian bent and placed a kiss on his brother’s temple. “Be right back,” he whispered. When he and Sorin reached Maksim’s side, the Russian already had the video ready to go. “Are you sure?” he questioned quietly enough that the doctor wouldn’t hear. “It shows him going down.” “Then I need to see it.” “I do not think now—” He reached out and touched Sorin’s arm, shaking his head once. He nodded for Maksim to continue. After the first run-through, which was less than thirty seconds of footage, he took the phone and watched it a dozen more times. By the time he handed it back, what was left of his humanity had leeched away. “Make sure I get a copy of that.” He motioned for the door. “Bring your boys in here.”

Maksim held his huge body stiffly. “This was supposed to be Alek.” Lucian nodded. “From the Tarasov Bratva.” “The shooter was his cousin, Sergei Pivchenko.” “Yes.” The footage had shown Markus pulling Alek’s Range Rover into Alek’s regular parking spot in an area designated for any staff of TarMor Inc.; Alek’s company. Markus had been hit in the back of the neck the moment he’d stepped out of Alek’s SUV. He’d gone down and the briefcase Lucian had given Markus last Christmas, the one that had no doubt been loaded down with paperwork that would make Alek’s company that much more successful, had fallen a few feet away. And the shooter had slowly driven off, leaving an innocent man to die in place of Alekzander Tarasov? It certainly seemed so. He returned to the metal table. “Would he have suffered long? Could he have survived this had someone been there to administer medical care?” As he posed his questions to Dr. Singh, he took up his brother’s hand and held it between his, trying to warm it. For years, he and Markus had gotten into so many disagreements over the shadows Lucian had insisted on assigning to him. In the end, because it had started affecting their relationship, especially when Markus took the invasion-ofprivacy stance, Lucian had caved and called his boys off. Dr. Singh’s gaze was again skipping around, and it only got worse when the crew that had been waiting in the hallway filed in. But the doctor didn’t evade the question, which was a wise decision. “From the preliminary examination I was able to perform when he first arrived, I saw that Mr. Fane had been struck in the back of the neck. From the angle of entry and lack of an exit wound, I can only assume the bullet is embedded in his spine. The few crime scene photos that were sent to me so far also show a large amount of blood, which means a major blood vessel had been hit. I wouldn’t say he was killed instantly, but I will say he wasn’t conscious for long before his system became overwhelmed and shut down.”

What was “for long”? A minute? Three? Five? Lucian put his hand out. The doctor eyed it for a moment before shaking it. “Thank you for your honesty. There is no greater nuisance than when someone wastes my time with evasion.” “Of course.” The doctor scanned the faces of men one didn’t look into for any length of time without coming away with raised hairs on their nape. “I will leave you now. If you have any more questions, I will be at my desk.” “Expect my team here shortly, Dr. Singh. We will be taking my brother home. Thank you for all you’ve done.” “Er, there is an on-going investigation which prevents me from releasing the body, Mr. Fane.” “They will have the proper paperwork.” A new wariness entered the doctor’s dark eyes. “Of course. I’ll have everything ready.” “Thank you.” Lucian waited until the door swung closed before patting Markus’s hand and laying it under the sheet. “Had I listened to my instincts instead of trying to appease you, I might still have you here with me tonight because Claude is medically trained.” He spoke quietly and in Romanian, keeping this between him and his brother. Claude Moraux was the last shadow he’d assigned before finally giving in and ending the practice. “Claude was the one you saw when you went to the gym. He was the one you saw at the theater. The one you saw at IKEA the day you called to remind me how amusing a mundane act such as shopping for a new bedroom set could be. I should have made the time to be there personally. You can be sure I will live with that regret forever, and so many more.” His lips curved as he remembered that walk through the chaotic store. He’d seen Claude through the screen, a few steps behind Markus. Lucian’s smile lingered when he remembered the look in the shadow’s eyes.

“I still do not know how or when you realized he was one of mine.” He sighed. “Or maybe I do. You saw so much more than you ever said. But not even you would have been able to catch sight of him…unless he wanted you to. Did I ever tell you he requested you as an assignment? I think he did so for reasons that weren’t entirely professional, and I believe he let you know this. That’s when you put your foot down and insisted I stop with the protection detail.” I hope you were happy together in your private world, he finished silently. I only wish you would have felt you could share it with me. I would never have judged you, brother. But you knew that. Yet you still would not admit to me who you really were. Why? He wasn’t sure if Gabriel and Alek knew Markus was gay, and now it didn’t matter. Turning, he studied Markus’s friends. “Aside from Sorin, you boys have been the closest thing Markus and I have ever had to what people refer to as an extended family. I’ve eagerly offered my aid to most of you when I could.” He looked to Gabriel. “I stood feet away from you when you began your future last summer, and now she will gift you with a new life soon.” He walked over and stopped in front of Vincente. “I’ve always felt sorry for what you went through with your sister. I never once thought a time would come again where I would personally identify with you. Now we share a loss, and I once again understand that look of vengeance that glows in the back of your eyes. I did not want to revisit this place, but, as you well know, what we want and what we get are usually two very different things.” He clasped the side of Vincente’s jaw and gave him an affectionate pat before he went around to Alek. Everyone tensed as they came eye-to-eye, standing at the same height and similar body build. Alek’s posture didn’t alter, which Lucian appreciated because any sign of aggression at this point would be acted upon with no mercy. He held those pale eyes for a long moment, enjoying the culpable sorrow swimming in them. “I am glad you realize it is a possibility that I stand here in

place of your uncle, mourning the loss of my loved one, my only sibling.” Alek gave him a single nod. “The only reason I can look into your eyes is because I understand your cousin is not operating with a sound mind. I am beginning to think this was not meant to be you. I believe Sergei has an agenda. Why it included taking my brother’s life will probably never be known.” He turned away and went back to his dead. He bent and pressed his lips to Markus’s hairline. “Such an open, genuine person. I asked him once how he could go through life like that. I’ve never understood why he never felt the need to hide. Do you know what he told me?” He cupped Markus’s cheek, wishing he’d made the affectionate gesture more when it would have meant something. “Exactly what you would expect. ‘It’s not a conscious thing. I guess I just don’t have anything going on that I feel I can’t show people.’” He frowned as he considered that. Maybe it had been Claude’s secret Markus had been keeping, and not his own. “I couldn’t comprehend what he meant when he said that. I have many things I dare not show. So many things,” he mused. “Are any of you aware who this amazing man really was to me?” He got a response after an extended period of silence. “Your conscience.” The answer came from the door, and they all turned to see Vasily standing there looking broken-hearted. Lucian made his way over as his friend started forward. They met in the middle, and the tight cinch they walked into was felt by everyone. Not a word was exchanged but the condolences and comfort offered were palpable. After they separated, the two leaders shared a look. “Vasily knows me well,” Lucian said as he went to the door. “In keeping with the honesty surrounding us, no doubt a by-product of that one’s spirit.” He nodded toward the table. “I’ll repeat; he loved you all like brothers, and I feel I should tell you that’s the only thing preventing me from laying waste to you and

every loved one you have. I feel an overpowering need to begin the bloodiest war our kind has ever been witness to. But I suspect that would be falling in line with Sergei’s plan, and I will not go there.” He pushed the panel open. “With Markus gone, this world that is ours is going to change, gentlemen. It is a change that should have you and every one of our associates cowering in fear.” He went to walk out but paused once more. “I know, or at least I hope, you will all have enough respect for him to attend his funeral. But afterward, I strongly suggest you remain a great distance from me for a very, very long time.” As he went down the hallway and settled into a corner, he called up Claude’s number on his list of contacts. It was answered on the second ring. “Claude? It’s Lucian.” “’Allo, Lucian. How are things?” Lucian pictured the big Frenchman with the hard pewter stare. “I have some devastating news.” The quiet alarm that saturated the connection was actually comforting. It meant Markus had been loved by someone other than himself. A quiet string of French curses filled his ear. “Not Markus.” “Yes. I will explain when I see you. I am bringing him home with me. Meet me at the Southampton house as soon as you can.” “Is he…?” “He is gone.” A guttural sound of pure pain was followed by a spectacular crash, and then the line went dead.

TWENTY-NINE Snuggling deeper into Alekzander’s bulky NYU hoodie, Sacha watched the even rise and fall of her daughter’s chest. After what had happened earlier, she couldn’t bring herself to move more than a few feet away. No way she could sleep. I dropped him off the side of a building. She spun her rings as Alekzander’s words echoed through her mind. They terrified her. And brought her more satisfaction than they should. How could they not? Though the man ultimately responsible for Lekzi’s near-death was still out there. Alekzander’s cousin. A man Sacha had once sat across from, Alekzander by her side, and enjoyed a dinner his wife had prepared while helping their son with his homework. She spun her rings faster. She had to leave. She couldn’t stay here and give Sergei another chance to take her daughter’s life. And once she left, Sacha couldn’t return because this precarious existence wasn’t what she wanted for this innocent baby she was responsible for. How, as a mother, could she overlook what was happening? And, how, as a woman, was she supposed to leave the man she loved? How did she take his child from him? Especially now, when he’d only just met her. When they were quickly falling in love with each other just as she knew they would. How could she leave a man who was currently at the morgue saying goodbye to one of his best friends? She didn’t know, but she would have to find a way. For her daughter’s safety. She got up and took another trip around the bedroom. Alekzander was at the morgue with his uncle. But it could very well have been different. It could

have been her and Vasily staring down at Alekzander’s body. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Knowing Sergei might have been going after Alekzander and had gotten Markus by accident was a horrifying thought. Lekzi could have lost her father tonight. Won’t she lose him anyway, when you take her away? Moaning quietly, Sacha dropped her arms and wished there was someone she could talk to about this. If it weren’t so late, she’d have called Angela. Or better yet, Sydney. Being a mother in love with a Bratva member, she would know exactly what Sacha was going through. Had she felt she had to choose between her children and Maksim? How had she let herself have both? She checked on Lekzi for the hundredth time, then went to the Bose system on the bookshelf in the corner. She continued to see Alekzander’s prone body in a drawer, and then that blue ring that had been forming around Lekzi’s mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered Lucian trying to arrange a time to have dinner with his little brother. Swiping her finger to turn the speaker on, hoping to distract herself, she kept the volume low as she looked for a station that played oldies. It had been her parents’ favorite genre and was now hers when she was looking for comfort. She had fond memories of coming down after studying in her room to find her mother and father dancing. They wouldn’t be practicing, just dancing for the enjoyment of it. A sound behind her had her turning to find Alekzander standing in the doorway. Her heart broke when she saw the despair in his eyes. She went to him without thought, and gathered him close, cradling his head when he pushed his face into her neck. “What have I done, Sacha?” “Nothing, my darling. You have done nothing,” she reassured him gently. “I killed one of the best men I know.” She shook her head. “No. No, you did not. You are all responsible for your own choices, and that includes Markus.” And it included her.

He tightened his arms around her waist. “Not this time.” “Yes,” she insisted gently. “Every time. He knew who you and Gabriel were. He knew he was making successful a company belonging to two men who come from two of New York’s most prominent organized crime families. You are from a powerful Russian Bratva, and Gabriel is Cosa Nostra. His family history goes all the way back to Sicily; yours to Moscow. Markus knew this. Who you are and what you do is in your blood, and no matter how much you might wish differently, that will never change.” She briefly thought about the effort him, Markus, and Gabriel had put into TarMor rather than their respective families, and it was only now that she could see they’d been fighting their nature. “Markus knew that, too,” she said with more certainty. “And I believe he tried his hardest, but he could not cut his ties to who he was completely. He might have distanced himself from his brother’s reputation, but he was still a part of this life whether he felt he could admit that or not.” She remembered Markus winking at her when Alekzander was dragging her to that secluded room in the convention center. Yes, he’d known Alekzander wasn’t bringing her back there to harm her, but the fact that he hadn’t found anything wrong with the behavior said a lot about the type of person Markus was. Essentially, he’d been very much like his bosses. She looked up to see if she’d upset Alekzander with her opinion. Her lips parted on a soft breath when she saw moisture shimmering on his lashes. “Oh, Alekzander,” she whispered, hurting for him. “I am so sorry.” “He did not deserve this.” “No, of course, not.” The only one who deserved to be struck down was the man responsible for this pain. Sergei needed to pay for what he was doing, regardless the reasons behind it. They grew silent, and as the singer’s melodic voice coming from behind them went on about innocent things like tattooed hearts and going steady, Sacha and her Russian stared at each other. When his head came down, she welcomed

the feel of his lips meeting hers. He was in desperate need of comfort, and she would give that to him however she could. While she still could. “How can I help you?” she asked, not sure what to do for him. He said nothing. He simply took her hands and placed them together so he could press them over his heart as he’d always done. His arm slid around her waist again to pull her tight against his big body, and as his tears fell, his emotion over the loss of his friend uncontainable, he danced with her.

♦ ♦ ♦ After another sleepless night, this one so much worse than the ones of late, Vasily inhaled the comforting scent of candles and wood polish and left Dmitri just inside the doors to walk down the center aisle at St. Luke’s. Father Michael was seated in the front pew, his face turned up, shoulders square. His head came around when Vasily was a few feet away. “Mr. Tarasov.” The kid who’d grown up with the boys and had been known as Mikey rose with a peaceful air about him only a man of God was lucky enough to have. “How are you?” “Not very well, I’m afraid. And it’s Vasily. Please.” He nodded. “Vasily.” He invited him to sit. “I heard what happened. Lucian came to see me last night.” They exchanged a look that said it all. “I won’t keep you. Aside from wanting to know about the visitation and service, I was curious if Sergei Pivchenko had been to see you?” This was a shot in the dark, but remembering the religious man Sergei used to be when he and Renee had first come from Russia, Vasily had to try. If his sister’s son was attempting to ease his guilt through Lorenzo’s brother, then all they had to do was remain in the neighborhood and intercept him the next time he dared show his face. “The visitation is tonight at seven; the funeral tomorrow at eleven. And,

no, I’m afraid your nephew has not been here.” Vasily frowned. “Tonight and tomorrow. Lucian didn’t want the day?” Father Michael shook his head. “No. He definitely did not want the day.” Vasily put off thinking about that. “If Sergei turns up, and you feel the need to let someone know, I would very much appreciate if that someone was not your brother. Forgive me for coming to you with this and putting you in an awkward position, but there are exceptional circumstances that force me to disregard courtesy and invade your sanctuary.” Vasily couldn’t imagine what secrets were revealed behind the wall in the confession chamber to their left, but the handsome kid just continued to observe him with that calm demeanor, nodding every few seconds. “You haven’t made things awkward, Vasily,” he assured. “Thank you. And just so we’re clear,” he felt obligated to add. “I am implying no threat. I would simply like to deal with—” “Vasily?” He turned to find the elusive Dr. Tegan Mancuso coming up the aisle with Detective Russo at her side. Lorenzo looked as he always did; serious. Tegan looked like a different girl; troubled. Her blue eyes were no longer bright with mischief but shadowed with anxiety. Vasily stood and came around. “Tegan. How are you?” He dropped a kiss to her forehead in the same way he’d always done even though he wasn’t sure what the protocol was for assault victims. She didn’t slug him, so he supposed the sign of affection was acceptable. “I’m surprised to see you here.” Little flashes of alarm were going off in the back of her eyes. She assumed he was here about one of the boys. He let her worry for a moment and greeted the priest’s brother. “Lorenzo. How are you, son?” They shook as Tegan moved around them to give Father Michael a hug. “Getting by,” Lore said, his features tight. “You here about Markus?” “Markus,” Tegan said, looking between them. “What about Markus?”

“He was killed yesterday. Shot in the parking garage at TarMor.” Vasily’s delivery of the news was deliberately harsh in the hopes that he would rattle her cage. She didn’t have to come to her senses today. But the sooner she realized the boys she loved could be taken from her at the drop of a hat, the better. They needed her in their lives, and she needed them. She grasped the side of the pew, squeezing the fragrant wood. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. Then looked contritely at Father Michael. “Sorry. Oh, my gosh,” she corrected before shooting a disbelieving stare at Lore. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she was asking Vasily, “How is Lucian? Oh, my gosh…Gabriel and Alek. They must be devastated. And Eva? She and Markus were growing so close. Oh, no…” “They’re all having a tough time. Alek especially since the police think the shooter might have been targeting him but got Markus instead.” For once, he was glad the authorities were involved, if only so he could speak freely of the incident in front of Lorenzo. Tegan lowered herself to the bench and Lore glared at Vasily as he brushed by to sit next to her. Vasily went a little further. “The visitation is tonight at seven. If you can make it, I know your presence would help tremendously.” “Yes,” Tegan murmured, her eyes unfocused. “Of course, I’ll be there.” “T.” She looked at Lorenzo. “Yeah?” “Maybe you should give this one a miss.” “Why? Markus was killed, Lorenzo. It’s his visitation and funeral. Why would I give that a miss?” Her disbelieving tone had Father Michael nodding his goodbyes and moving off down the aisle toward the back of the church. Vasily stayed right the fuck where he was. He wanted to hear this. “You don’t need to be around…that kind of thing right now,” the detective said, his tone kind but a touch impatient.

“Oh? Hmm. What kind of thing is that, Lore? Death? Grief? My friends who need me?” “Your friends.” He didn’t scoff, but then, he didn’t have to. It was implied. Tegan’s shoulder’s bowed, and she hesitated slightly before confirming, “Yes. My friends,” she said tiredly. “Yours, too, at one time. Remember? Those men? They’re men, Lore, just like you.” “We’ll talk about it later.” “There really isn’t anything to talk about.” They looked at each other as if neither understood where the other was coming from. “Tegan understands something better than many others, Lorenzo,” Vasily offered, explaining something the kid should already be well aware of. “Because she feels it. She’s invested, right from her heart. She can’t turn her back on them because she loves them, and is loyal to them. There is no halfway when that word comes into it. It’s all or nothing. You’re either loyal. Or you are not. How can that be confused?” He wasn’t thinking of the young doctor anymore. “You cannot adopt the practise only when it suits your purpose. Would you like to know why? Because it lives in those of us lucky enough to grasp the concept. It’s alive. It’s a part of who we are. Tegan will forgive her friends because they’re a large part of who she is. She knows that, and I think your nose is out of joint because you know it, too, and nothing you say to her will change it.” He clapped his hand on the detective’s hard shoulder to end the lecture, then reached out and gave Tegan’s hand a squeeze. “Seeing you there will give everyone a boost they all desperately need right now. They’ve been grieving your absence from their lives just as they’re now grieving Markus’s.” Tears filled the girl’s eyes as Vasily walked away.

♦ ♦ ♦

Lucian sat in the front row at a funeral home on the Upper West Side, his cousin Gheorghe next to him, Gheorghe’s sister Daria further down. Claude was on Lucian’s right, acting as security. Lucian had asked him if he would prefer to be acknowledged as Markus’s partner but the man had given one shake of his head. “Markus wouldn’t do that to you in life. He certainly wouldn’t appreciate me doing it to you in death.” “To me?” He’d wanted to vomit. “I would be proud to show people who my brother was.” Claude had looked pained. “I wish he could have heard that.” Lucian looked up from the crease in the pant leg of his Kiton. It wasn’t his favorite suit, which was why he’d worn it. He would dispose of it when he took it off later. The shoes, too. Those he would miss. Berluti. His favorites. A presence entering the room had his head slowly coming up. The feeling was one he couldn’t put a name to but had felt before. Once. In an art gallery in Queens. He wanted to look at the entrance but didn’t. He would give her yet another chance. To escape him. If she didn’t take it, then she was fair game. He continued to nod as the people passed by, and found his gaze moving down the line. He caught himself and faced forward again. Give her the chance she deserves, that soothing voice he now knew was Markus’s whispered. Lucian closed his eyes and savored it for a moment. When he opened them again, the faces in front of him were not the ones he’d been avoiding looking into a moment ago. Down the line he looked… His attention was fully engaged from one heartbeat to the next. Yasmeen Michaels. His prey. An enchanting, classy, incredibly charming art gallery assistant…whose

first hours in life had been spent in a cardboard box on the stoop of an orphanage in the Bronx. The file Lucian had read—without Yasmeen’s knowledge—stated a worker had found the unidentified infant lying quietly on a cloud of dirty blankets. Lucian had had her for one night two years ago. One night hadn’t been nearly enough. He watched her wait in the queue, those mysterious eyes of hers that were as dark as night remaining downcast so he couldn’t get his fill. He waited until she was four people away before motioning Gheorghe to slide down the bench. His cousin didn’t hesitate but did shoot him a questioning look that Lucian ignored. Yasmeen still hadn’t looked at him, but she was aware of him because a small wrinkle marred her high brow when she saw the space appear next to him. “So sorry for your loss.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Fane.” “Sorry for the loss of your brother, Lucian.” “So sorry.” And then she was close enough to touch. Her eyes clashed with his and moved with him as he stood for her. “Yasmeen.” “Lucian.” She raised her cheeks when he bent to touch his lips to her silky skin that was the same light bronze color he’d admired in the middle of summer. “I have no words for you,” she murmured. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” More than she would ever know. “You should have worn your hair down.” Her scent was the same he enjoyed when his yacht was anchored off the coast of Portofino. For the first time since Dr. Singh’s phone call, images of brutality and murder left his head and were replaced by stills of how this woman had looked while she climaxed, her long raven hair spread all around them, her flawless body open and willing. Magnificent.

She blinked up at him in confusion and brought her fingers to her bared nape. “I’m sorry. I, um, I was at work.” The lineup behind her was growing, as was her discomfit. “Sit.” “Pardon?” “Sit.” He showed her how and drew her down to his side. “I should really move on.” “No, you should not.” He took one of her hands and placed it on the top of his thigh, straightening her fingers and separating them until they were perfectly spaced. She wore two silver rings. An infinity symbol on her pinkie, and what looked to be the outline of a cat’s head on her forefinger. The bracelets on her fragile wrist were also cheap but pretty. Her nails were long, tapered, and real. Unpainted. People came and offered their condolences, and he nodded as though paying attention. He wasn’t. “You have beautiful hands.” “Thank you.” “Markus came with me to your gallery one evening. We stood on the sidewalk and observed through the window. You were speaking with a group of young people about a textured painting done entirely in gold.” “Really. I…didn’t know that.” “Of course, you didn’t.” She shifted uncomfortably. “You should have come inside. I would have liked to meet him.” “That’s funny because he wanted to meet you, too. But I spared you.” She looked at him and frowned. Her lashes were long and fanned. “From what?” He didn’t answer and stopped talking altogether. Every little while over the next two hours, he traced one of Yasmeen’s long fingers, lingering at the tip of her nail. He had to fight the need to bring her palm to his face to test its

softness. “Lucian?” He lifted his head, giving up his study of the delicate bones that made up her knee. “Yes, Yasmeen?” “I should go.” Wondering if what he felt at her words was sadness, he didn’t try very hard to identify it. He nodded and helped her up. The place was slowly clearing out. He left his spot to walk her to the entrance. She came up and kissed his cheek, and he found himself memorizing her scent. She was the darkest waters of the deepest seas. “Will you come to the church tomorrow?” He forced himself to pose his demand as a question. “Oh, uh, I’d assumed it would be a family service.” “No.” “Okay, then. If you’d like me to be there…” “I’ll send a car for you.” “You don’t have to do that, Lucian.” He cupped her jaw in a light hold and rubbed his thumb along her high cheekbone. The exotic slant of her eyes was incredible. “I don’t have to do anything, Yasmeen. I do only what I want. A car will be in front of your building at ten.” He saw a flash of wariness flit across her face. “All right. My address is —” He brought her forward and placed a light kiss on her lips. “I know your address, draga. You will sit with me tomorrow, yes?” “If you’d like.” More wariness. “I would like,” he confirmed as he released her. “You are free to go.” She hesitated. “Um, will you be okay tonight? I mean, I don’t want to

come across as…um…” She grimaced. “What I mean is, if you’d like to share a meal or a glass of wine to keep your mind busy, well, I’ll be home all night. Please know you’re welcome to drop by. Or I can meet you out if you’d prefer… anyway, bye.” A mortified smile flashed even white teeth before she spun away. Lucian was pleased to see she hadn’t ruined one of his favorite things about her. Yasmeen’s pearly canines were sweetly pointed. He still remembered how much he’d enjoyed feeling them sink into his shoulder on that night two years ago. He should have felt a softening in his heart at her offer of company. He didn’t. He felt something else. Something that would scare this exquisite girl into running from him. Not that she’d get far. He watched her walk through the foyer, lingering over the perfection of her body. When the door closed behind her, he waved his driver over. Sorin came in closer, too. “You’ll be picking Ms. Michaels up tomorrow morning at ten,” he instructed Isaac as he ignored his caretaker’s hovering. “She will attend the service. When it is over, rather than take her home, you will bring her to the airport.” As expected, a low grunt of disapproval came from Sorin. Isaac knew better because he nodded and left. “Is Ms. Michaels aware she has travel plans in her immediate future?” Sorin asked. “No.” The big body that had prevented Lucian’s death more than once came around to block his way when he would have gone back to take his place on that uncomfortable bench. “Will she be made aware of them?” Lucian perused the room. He detested every single soul present. The one he wanted in his life was gone. The one he needed. “When she wakes in Rasnov

she will be.” “Lucian.” He looked at Sorin, holding that dark gaze without conscience. “Yes, Sorin?” “Just so I am clear. You are taking Ms. Michaels to Romania without her knowledge?” “Yes, Sorin,” he murmured as he strode away.

THIRTY Markus’s funeral and the days that followed were some of the most difficult Alek had ever been through. He’d attended too many memorials in his short life, had lost more people than an average thirty-three-year-old, but he’d never been directly responsible for any one man’s death. Regardless if Sergei had mistakenly shot Markus in place of Alek or if the psychotic sonofabitch had targeted an innocent man for his own reasons, no one could deny Markus had been in the parking garage that night because of a task he was performing for Alek. Which meant he was responsible for his friend’s death. Even though he accepted it, he couldn’t deal with what it meant at this time and he eventually had to shut it down and switch over to autopilot. He buried his emotions. He would bleed for his friend, he would mourn him, he would grieve, but not now. Not when Markus’s murderer was still out there, possibly preparing to take another of Alek’s loved ones. Meetings were had, and discussions took place as they tried to figure out how to get one step ahead of the turncoat he and Vasily were ashamed to call family. And as more and more of Sergei’s activities came to light, their shame grew right along with the pile of bodies. Anyone Sergei had been partnered with in the years he’d spent in the States was now gone. According to Yuri’s estimates, the deaths had all occurred around the same time Markus was killed, which meant, within twenty-four hours, Sergei had gone from location to location and quietly murdered eight men. That’s when it became apparent he was trying to erase all evidence of his life in the U.S., and that’s when Maks suggested they worked to figure out where Sergei had spent most of his time. Where would his memories take him next? Aside from the home he’d shared with Renee and Evan, which had been checked the day they’d learned Sergei was the mole, they narrowed it down to

the Brighton Beach warehouse, Rapture, and Vasily’s house. With the warehouse already gone, they’d sent in teams of sweepers to meticulously go through the two remaining places. Late last night, in the basement of Rapture, Micha and two others had found what they’d hoped not to; clear evidence Sergei had intended the club to be a target. Small packs of RDX—that wasn’t theirs—had been hidden among crates of stored HMX. Thank Christ the job had been abandoned. They’d found no connectors or ignition which would have signified completion. Had Sergei had the time to do this one right, there would have been nothing but a crater to mark where Rapture had once stood. That final discovery proved without a doubt any location Sergei had access to in the last month could not be deemed one hundred percent safe. Which was why a mass evacuation was currently taking place. No one wanted to separate, but the boys understood it was the smart thing to do. Gabriel was taking Eva north, Vincente was going west with Nika, and Maksim, who’d appeared torn in half when he’d left Vasily’s house a little while ago, was going south with Sydney and the kids. With Vasily’s full blessing, they were each taking a team of Moretti men with them, as well as their usual muscle. “Lekzi, if your beautiful mama doesn’t move her ass, your papa is going to go fucking crazy.” Alek was in the bedroom, holding his daughter in front of the mirror on the dresser. He’d learned she enjoyed bouncing up and down while staring at herself, and he’d spent so much time in this very spot over the last couple of days his footprints were permanent marks in the oval rug. He looked to the walk-in where he could hear Sacha murmuring to herself as she packed enough to last a few weeks. He, too, had decided to take them to their friendly neighbors up north. He figured the Canadian side of Niagara Falls would be a good place to lay low. Honeymoon capital and all that shit. Maybe while he was there, he could convince the mother of his child not to leave him. He shouldn’t. But he was damn well going to pull out every stop he could think

of to change the decision he could see she’d already made. “I can see your mama’s fear,” he whispered to the baby. He’d found himself confiding in her more and more. “I know what she’s thinking, but I can’t let her take you away from me. To lose you both would be unbearable, and I won’t let it happen. So how about you tell your papa how I convince my love this is only a temporary nightmare?” Lekzi answered him with a happy squeal as she bounced up and down on legs that had the sweetest Michelin Man rolls. She slapped her bare feet on the surface, tinkling the miniature wind chimes on the porcelain Tudor style house Sacha had placed at one end of the dresser. He looked into the mirror and met her pale-blue eyes, then shifted his attention to meet the gorgeous gold of her mother’s as Sacha came out with a big bag over her shoulder. His chest constricted. He couldn’t lose them. He cleared his throat. “Ready?” She nodded. “Anton brought the other bags out earlier. If you take her, I’ll grab that. Yuri is waiting in the infirmary.” Yuri had insisted on giving the baby a final once over before Alek took her away. He placed his hand on Sacha’s lower back as they left their room. He’d have cuffed their wrists together but figured it best if he kept his hands free. As they made it to the main floor and crossed the foyer, Alek saw Anton in his regular spot in a chair to the side of the archway that led to the kitchen. Grigori had trailed down behind them since he’d been stationed in his cubby at the top of the stairs. The guy was diligent, even when they were in the house. “Will Yuri do a full check-up?” Sacha asked as she played catch-thesoother with Lekzi. “He said there is no need for more blood work, but he’ll do everything else. If something worries him, he’ll send us back to Dr. Uvich.” At Yuri’s insistence, they’d visited a specialist the day after Lekzi had been poisoned, and a pediatrician the day after that just to be sure no one had missed any possible

side effects. Sacha paused and looked over her shoulder. “The last time he checked her, she became fussy. I should grab some fruit to occupy her.” Alek nodded and changed direction, leading them to the kitchen. No sooner had they passed Anton when the spectacularly loud boom of an explosion came from behind them. The noise was deafening, the force of it propelling Alek into Sacha’s back and Grigori into his. They went with it and kept going with Alek snatching the baby and dragging Sacha at a dead run toward the stairs at the end of the corridor. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear debris raining down behind them. “Grigori?” “Panic room, I know.” The byki shoved at Alek’s back to get him moving faster. Alek took the rest of the steps two at a time and in seconds was all but throwing Sacha into a huge room hidden in the corner of the basement that no one and nothing was getting into. It was reinforced to the tits and had enough supplies to keep alive any inhabitants for at least a month. “What the fuck happened?” Yuri demanded as he came skidding in from the direction of the other set of stairs. He was still dressed in surgical scrubs from a trip into the city early this morning. “Sergei is here,” Alek said. “It has to be him. You two don’t leave my fucking family. Promise me, right now!” “Alekzander.” Sacha was shaking her head, looking petrified as he handed Lekzi over. “You can’t go back up there.” “My uncle is up there, Sacha.” The second Grigori and Yuri gave him their word he was heading for the steel door. Without focusing on what he was leaving behind, he pointed to the screens. “Turn the cameras on, Grigori, and let only those we trust inside.” He slammed the heavy door and burned through the open concept basement that was one-part living space one-part laboratory. By the time he

heard the sound of gunshots, his girls were safely tucked away in the back of his mind, and getting to Vasily was his only thought. With a focus he’d never before had to utilize, he got himself up the stairs they’d just come down. He didn’t go out that door but locked it and raced through the basement and up the other stairs to come out in the waiting area outside the infirmary. He traveled the corridor, heading for the foyer, and kept his ears, which had thankfully stopped ringing, peeled for all those little sounds one knew to listen for in their own homes. Sounds which alerted him to the presence of men walking or opening doors. There was a lot of cursing, sporadic firing, and footsteps crunching over debris. He pulled the trigger for the first time when he came face-to-face with a stranger who simply walked out of the game room, gun at his side. Alek’s bullet entered dead center in the man’s throat. He’d never seen him before so he was an enemy. He took the guy’s Glock and kept going. He could hear shit happening in the kitchen. Four shots went off. Fuck. Where was Anton? He inched along, needing to get to the foyer where he’d have the best view of what the fuck Sergei had brought with him. Where the hell had he found the men to wield this firepower? Hired hands? Or were they his cousin’s new friends from the Baikov Bratva? Didn’t matter. None of it did. The main question now; where the fuck was his uncle?

♦ ♦ ♦ Sacha stood in the silent room, holding tight to her daughter, and watched what seemed like an action movie play out on the two large screens above her, Grigori, and Yuri. When she’d seen Alekzander in the corridor coming from the back of the house, heading directly for the man leaving the game room, she’d nearly screamed. Watching her Russian calmly shoot first had been a beautiful thing.

But now, the screen had switched to a view of the kitchen to show Anton behind the island. While Yuri cursed and tapped into a keyboard to stop the feed from jumping from camera to camera, she saw a man burst through the back door with two others. Anton’s gun was ready where he was partially hidden from sight, and each man fell. The last one managed to shoot once, but Anton wasn’t hit. Though, if the little burst of dust that plumed from the counter next to his head was any indication, it had come close. He was up and heading toward the front of the house in the next second. The screen once more switched to a view of what had once been the foyer. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, looking at the hole where the front door had been. Broken glass and jagged chunks of wood littered the floor. “You should not be watching this. Take the baby and sit.” She didn’t even respond to Grigori. Not after she noticed the bodies. Four of them. Two by the entrance to the living room where Vasily’s men had been, one to the side of the hole in the wall, and another one. She went cold as she looked at the man laying motionless at the mouth of the hallway Alekzander had been traveling. He was wearing black slacks and a black shirt… “No, no, no…not him. Please. Oh, my God.” He couldn’t be gone. “No. Do not do this to me.” She hugged Lekzi closer. “To her. You cannot take him from us,” she whispered. Just above the body, a head poked out from around the wall almost too fast to see, but Sacha would know that too-long shock of dark blond hair anywhere. Relief was a sob that got stuck in her throat. She dashed at the stupid tears that immediately blurred her vision so she could see that exact place on the wall get shot to bits. Obviously, someone had been waiting. Alekzander’s arm popped out, lower this time, and two small flashes came from his gun. When he stuck his head out again, nothing came at him. It was evident he was shouting. Calling for his uncle, she knew without having to hear him. “Where the fuck is Vasily?” Yuri growled. “He was in his office with Dmitri,” she managed to supply as a view of

the driveway came onto the other screen. There were three black SUVs parked at odd angles at the foot of the stairs. Just before the scene changed again to show the kitchen, Sacha saw Sergei jump to the ground from the rear of one of the trucks. She cried out in alarm when she saw who he roughly dragged out behind him.

♦ ♦ ♦ Still stuck on the second floor, Vasily met Dmitri’s eye and pointed at him then the ground. He then pointed at himself then the ceiling. He put up three fingers and counted down. They silently stepped out of Alek’s bedroom, and even though it went against everything in them, they pulled the trigger to take out the two men they’d sent toward Vasily’s office by tossing a vase down the hall a few seconds ago. The thud of it hitting the floor and rolling into the wall had been enough to draw attention. Before they could even lower their weapons, a third man popped out of what had become Grigori’s cubby and got one shot off before he was struck in the face by two bullets; one from Vasily’s gun, the other from Dmitri’s. “Fuck me,” Vasily muttered when he saw a hole in the shoulder of Dmitri’s shirt. “Skimmed me,” Dmitri whispered as he rolled his arm in a circle to prove the bullet hadn’t entered him. “Wasn’t expecting him.” “Foolish of us.” “Very foolish. Alekzander!” Vasily shouted, answering his nephew’s calls now that he wasn’t worried about drawing immediate attention. “Fuck sakes! It’s about time!” Alek shouted, obviously perturbed.

“Anyone else up there?” “Just me and Dmitri.” He moved down the hall. “What about down there?” Before they’d ducked for cover, they’d taken out four others. Hopefully, there weren’t any more. The response that came to his inquiry had him freezing mid-step. Debris crunched underfoot, and then, “I’m down here, Dyadya! You interested in a meet and greet with the man who crippled the organization that killed my family?” Sergei Pivchenko. When Vasily heard Alek make a pained sound, his heart almost shattered. “Alek?” He was nearly choked to death when Dmitri grabbed him by the scruff and jerked him back when he would have flown down the stairs to save the boy he’d once secretly smuggled a cap gun past his older brother for. Vasily had waved an Atari game in front of Evgeny’s face on his way by, but when he’d made it into the basement with nine-year-old Alek, he’d produced the small silver gun and a handful of paper cap rolls that they’d snapped until Evgeny had stomped down and confiscated. Vasily had pretended to cry as his brother yelled at him and Alek had laughed as only a nine-year-old could. “Stay there,” Alek called, his voice tortured. “Aw, Jesus Christ, Sergei. What the fuck happened to you? How could you do this?” “Dyadya! Come down here! Now! But behave or I will not introduce you to my new pet.” His voice went quiet but Vasily still heard, “What is your name again?” He met Dmitri’s eye and they both tipped their heads, but they were too far away to hear a response. “Yes, of course. How could I forget?” Sergei murmured, sounding sarcastic. He shouted up, “Does the name Yana Kurbatov ring a bell?” An image of his housekeeper hugging Sacha and kissing Lekzi goodbye filled Vasily’s head. He’d told her to take some time, and he would call her when he wanted her back. The worry that had marred Yana’s wrinkled brow had told

Vasily she knew something was happening. And she should. Her brother was one of the family’s oldest members. He was still in Moscow, but Yana, because she was trustworthy and had grown up in their world, had been brought to the U. S. and had been proudly taking care of Vasily and his home for over fifteen years. Sergei knew her value. Vasily straightened and stepped out from around the wall with Dmitri two feet in front of him. Always. He thought nothing of his destroyed home but was glad he’d chosen to live so far off the beaten path. Hiring a private company to plow the road throughout the winter was well worth the privacy. Unless there had been hunters in the forest behind the house, today’s ruckus would remain their business. Alek was across the way, unharmed. A disheveled Sergei was in the opening that used to be the front door. He had Yana, a fifty-nine-year-old woman, on her knees, with a grenade duct-taped to her cheek. His pinkie was curled through the pin. “There you are, Uncle. The captain who keeps this ship afloat.” As they made level ground, Vasily ignored the cold air pouring into the house and looked into the vacant eyes of his sister’s son. “I had hoped for a more dramatic end to my time in the United States. I wanted your daughter to be here. I wanted his daughter to be here.” Sergei pointed at Alek, who wore a fierce frown as his gaze zipped from Vasily to Sergei to Yana…then back over his shoulder. It had better be Anton he was looking at. “Anyone with Tarasov blood running through their veins was supposed to be present,” Sergei continued. “But I have realized you are not about to let that happen so we will end this now.” He raised the hand that was down by his side and pointed a gun at Dmitri. “Stop moving toward me. I am not finished yet, and if you interrupt by making me shoot you, which will cause all sorts of panic, well, you will be dead and my moment will have been ruined. Chain your dog, Uncle. Tell him we will all be dead in a minute so there is no need for him to play hero.”

Vasily tried to block out the bullshit and think. “Yana doesn’t belong here, Sergei. Be the man you once were and allow her to walk away.” Sergei shook his gun in a no-no motion as he lowered it again. “I’m afraid she is going to be more of that collateral damage that has been trailing behind me since this began.” “Is that what Kathryn was?” he said before he could stop himself. Sergei came a few steps closer, forcing Yana to scramble after him, neck extended. He paid her no attention as he scrutinized Vasily. “It kills you that she is gone, does it not? Does it?” he shouted. Vasily kept his feelings on the subject to himself by not answering. He got a careless shrug in reaction. “That is okay. I do not need to hear it. I see the difference in you since last summer. Oh,” he paused and turned back when he would have reclaimed his position center stage. “She was not collateral damage; she was a target. I lost what once brought me happiness, so I had my friends take what once brought the elusive emotion to you.” It was the malicious enjoyment in Sergei’s voice that got Vasily. That incomprehensible feeling of loss blazed through his veins, burning and destroying, forever reigniting the fury that had been born the day he’d lost Eva’s mother. Or what little he’d had left of her. Those special moments he’d looked so forward to, the ones where he’d watch her, unnoticed. The ones where he’d ache for her. The masochistic ones he’d gone back for month after month, year after year. Gone. Forever. “Your friends?” he questioned, hoping to keep Sergei in place until he could figure out how the fuck to get that grenade off Yana before the pin came out. If only she’d look this way so he could better see it’s position, but she was staring at Alek. Or rather, behind Alek. “Yes. You must know by now that I have become quite close with a few members of a rival Bratva. Boys? You might as well come out, so I do not appear so outnumbered.”

Three men, including one Vasily recognized as his enemy’s eldest son, stepped out to flank Sergei. “You remember Artur Baikov, don’t you, Uncle?” It had been Baikov soldiers Sergei had brought in to commit Kathryn’s murder. Vasily had followed the ones responsible to Russia and had killed every one of them. Before he could answer Sergei by spitting in the face of that name he abhorred, Alek was speaking. “After seeing them, I suppose it’s only fair for us to show our hand.” Vasily frowned and looked over in time to see Maksim and Anton appear behind Alek while Gabriel and Quan entered the scene through the archway of the kitchen. Vasily would have bet the last chance he wasn’t sure they had that Micha and Jak were somewhere in the house. And even though he loved each one of them as a brother, he was not happy to see them. He glared at Gabriel. Where the fuck was Eva? “And so come the sheep,” Sergei mused, unconcerned. “I don’t know about these odds.” He patted Yana’s exposed cheek with the barrel of his gun. “How are you doing, Yana? I imagine you would like me to wrap this up. Let me see what I can do for you.” He raised only his eyes and locked them on Vasily. “You missed one, by the way. When you took your trip to Russia last summer? You thought you got them all. You didn’t. He did not go there to hide. He is still around. In fact, he recently told me how they laughed when they ran your little blonde off the road. I think he said he was the one who threw the match.” Vasily shoved by an unsuspecting Dmitri and lunged. He needed a piece of this fucking sniveling pussy who’d targeted their women and children. The shot sounded, and he felt the familiar burn of a bullet enter his body just below his ribs on his left side. He kept moving as his boys sounded off in shock and outrage. Or he would have kept moving had Dmitri not banded a heavy arm around his waist and jerked him around so he was facing in the opposite direction. His

byki gave Sergei his back so any shots that followed would go through him before they reached Vasily. “You fuck! What are you doing?” Dmitri shouted in Russian. He was looking over his shoulder. “What the fuck have you done here? Women and children, Sergei? Innocent people? This man?” The roar of his voice blocked up Vasily’s ears. “And all because you feel guilty for being inside a whore while your wife and son were snatched? You should have manned the fuck up and owned what you did!” Vasily shook Dmitri off and had to bite back a groan when the effort chewed into his wound like a hungry lion. “And you,” Dmitri continued, pointing at Artur. “Did you look into his history at all before you offered your aid? Are you even aware it was your whore he was fucking at the time?” Maksim had come across that tidbit yesterday. While Sergei’s “friends” turned livid eyes on him, Vasily met Yana’s terrified stare and tried to communicate how sorry he was that this was going to happen.

♦ ♦ ♦ As Alek looked on in disbelief, watching a dark spot spread on his uncle’s black shirt, he remembered a time a neighborhood dog had taken his legs out from under him as he’d run to Vasily’s car that had pulled up to the curb in front of their house. He’d torn his knee to shreds in the fall, and by the time he’d gotten up and carried on, there’d been a stream of blood running down into his sock. Vasily had scooped his ten-year-old ass up and kissed both his cheeks before looking at his leg. You are not crying. Why? Alek had shrugged, biting his lip as hard as he could to hold back the tears he wouldn’t let fall in front of his hero. You are a better man than I will ever be. If that was my knee, I would be calling for my mama by now. He’d tucked Alek’s face into his neck and taken

him into the house to patch him up. He met that navy stare across the demolished foyer. In Alek’s eyes, there was no better man. Back his focus went to Sergei. He cataloged the new position. Yana’s new position. The position of the men flanking them who Alek was pretty sure wouldn’t help Sergei now for any reason. “Alek.” He glanced to his uncle when he heard his name then came back to his task. The boys had to get Vasily out of there. They had to take him down to Yuri. Then he wanted his best fucking friends to take his wife and child out of there. It didn’t matter that he and Sacha had never exchanged vows, she belonged to him just as he belonged to her. Life partners. And his best fucking friends were right fucking idiots to have shown up here instead of staying with their women. Man, he loved them. Honing his attention, he saw how much closer he was now that he’d stumbled forward during the shooting. He was less than ten feet away and could clearly see how tightly the grenade was taped to Yana’s face. And, halle-fuckingluiah, the spoon was pressed into her skin. That meant the pin could be pulled and who the fuck cared? If that spoon remained down, they could sit here all afternoon, and the thing wouldn’t blow. But if Sergei even plucked at the tape and released that spoon… Alek got all of this in seconds. “So this is your end game, Sergei?” He let the blade he’d tucked up his sleeve slide down until it tickled his palm. “To stand around and gloat? To spew your shit and try to get a reaction out of us as you twist the knife?” He leaned forward so he was on the tip of his toes. “To string this out so you can feel important for a little longer?” “Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare,” he heard Maks whisper behind him. “Jesus H.,” Anton added under his breath. “You’re in it to inflict as much pain as you can before this is over. Do I have that right, Sergei?” He let the contempt he was feeling drip from his words. “Yes, I am. It feels good to know someone gets this.” His cousin sounded

as if they were talking over a beer. “Sacha is in the house somewhere, is she not? She must be. Is she carrying another Tarasov yet? That stupid woman should have given me the opportunity to help her. And your beautiful little girl would have been better off succumbing to the effects of the poison Reynard supplied than to have the roof collapse on her as it is going to do in a matter of minutes.” Alek sprung forward and was startled for only a moment by two bodies falling from the sky outside the opening. Micha and Jak took down the Baikovs with little effort while Alek smashed his fist into Sergei’s shocked face. The motherfucker pulled the pin. And yanked on the tape, because Sergei knew that spoon needed to be released. As fast as was humanly possible, Alek sliced through the tape and ripped the grenade off. “Duck!” He threw it past Micha and Jak with all his might then fell on Yana to do what he could to protect her. The explosion was close enough to blow out every intact window in the vicinity, including the ones on the cars that were in the driveway. The almighty boom that came with it closed up Alek’s ears again, and this time, left a muffled flutter hammering through them. He then watched as if in slow motion Sergei sit halfway up with his gun pointed straight at Alek’s face. A shout came from the side and then a dark shape was flying through the air in front of him. Sergei took the shot. Vasily took the bullet.

THIRTY-ONE Seeing his uncle land hard on what was once the front door, Alek thundered a denial. In the chest. Vasily had taken the bullet in the chest! With no Kevlar. A red haze flipped over his vision, and Alek lost his mind. He and Sergei scrambled to their feet at the same time, and they came together in a flurry of quick, coordinated movements. Knuckles connected, skin split, elbows and kicks were thrown, and through it all, the little hole in his uncle’s neatly pressed dress shirt that he was wearing in mourning for Markus remained front and center in Alek’s mind. He heard Quan’s calm voice in the back of his mind, the one the Asian used when they were sparing in the gym at home. Find a weakness, and go for it. Everyone has one. If it’s not physical, start talking. Bring them to their knees verbally. It can always be done. After landing a particularly hard kick to Sergei’s ribs, Alek found his center. “Tell me how…” He ducked then danced away from a swinging left that would have had him seeing stars. “No, G!” he snapped at Gabriel when his friend appeared behind Sergei, gun in hand. Alek focused again and connected a right just as Sergei’s lower leg slammed into his hip. He hissed through the pain. “How would you look your son…in the eye…if he was in front of you now?” Sergei tripped as he backed up. “My boy isn’t in front of me!” he screamed. “Never again! Your daughter should be with him!” “Maks,” Alek called back. “Angelina. Now!” He sprung at his cousin and took him down to the ground. It took a long minute of giving and receiving pain, but he eventually got the fucker in a submission hold Gabriel had taught him so Alek would have a chance against Maksim when they fucked around. Steel on steel rang in his ear and then the hilt of Maksim’s prized machete

was being held out. “You bought the poison Reynard used on my child? Paid for it with money our family helped you make? You took that money from your pocket and handed it over in exchange for a little bottle with Chinese writing on the side?” Sergei attempted to spit, but he couldn’t move his head around Alek’s hold without snapping his own neck. “Straighten his right arm,” he instructed Maks. Maks yanked on the arm, dislocating it, Alek was sure. No one wasted time checking before Alek brought the sharp blade down as if he was swinging a hatchet. At the same time, he released the tight cinch that was making Sergei’s face turn blue so that his cousin could freely scream through the pain of having his arm taken off at the shoulder. “Hold the other, Maks. Which is your trigger finger, Sergei? Which was it you just used on a man you should have respected with every breath you took? Which did you use to shoot another innocent man in my place?” he shouted. “Markus wasn’t a part of this life, you vindictive fuck! You should never have gone after him because you couldn’t get to me!” “Don’t be so fucking arrogant,” his cousin laughed, his words slurring. “I did not kill him in your place. I killed him to start a war. If I had wanted you dead, you would be dead.” Alek gripped the machete with both hands and was about to raise it when a loud rumble sounded all around them. In under three seconds, the place was full of men in unmarked swat gear. There had to have been twenty of them, all dressed in solid black, all with MP5s now trained on every single person in attendance, including Yuri, who was now ten feet away from Vasily and looking more concerned than Alek had ever seen him. “Anyone moves; you will be shot,” a deep voice boomed. No one moved. Except the two men who walked through the new entrance. Sorin came into view first with Lucian Fane walking a couple of feet behind him. The

bodyguard yanked Alek off Sergei and shoved him between two gun-wielding team members. Lucian, who was also dressed in black, reached down to drag Sergei to his feet. Cupping the back of his head, the Romanian poised a long, curved blade beneath Sergei’s chin. “Finally. You have come out from under your rock.” He kicked Sergei’s arm away from their feet. “But it will not be your cousin who has the pleasure of killing you. It won’t be your uncle, either. My brother, who you took for nothing, was not only innocent, he was mine. He was mine, and you stole him. So, now, I will steal you.” Lucian brought the blade down and plunged it into the soft spot under Sergei’s collarbone. The tip escaped through an exit wound, effectively acting as a hook. Alek didn’t blink in case he missed one second of the gruesome sight. Because if his uncle didn’t make it through this, he would forever relive the moment Sergei went limp and fell. Using his make-shift hanger, Lucian didn’t spare anyone a glance as he dragged Sergei back out the way he’d just walked in. Sorin followed, and it wasn’t until they heard a helicopter take off that weapons were lowered. The large crew followed their boss out. Alek didn’t wait to hear the other choppers that would explain the flutters he’d heard after the grenade had gone off. He tripped over shit to join the boys gathering on the floor around his uncle. His knees instantly felt warm as his pants soaked up the blood. “Jesus Christ, Vasya. What the fuck did you do?” he rasped in Russian. Micha, panting from a sprint, roughly elbowed his way between Maks and Gabriel. He dropped the large black medical bag Yuri kept in the trunk of the Maybach. “It was closer than running to the infirmary for supplies,” he snapped when Yuri looked up. Without a word, the MD got down to it by ripping Vasily’s shirt open. Buttons popped, and blood splashed. Rough curses came from all around at the

sight of two round holes showing amid the history inked into the Pakhan’s skin. Micha began handing things to Yuri. “Son—” Vasily coughed, and Alek clasped his hand. The squeeze that was returned was alarmingly weak. Weaker than Alek had ever experienced from this man. “If this happens—” Another cough and a choked denial from Maks came. “Know each of you was a gift to me.” “Vasya,” Alek whispered, horrified to see the acceptance in his uncle’s eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. Not you, too.” He received another squeeze. Vasily’s eyes went to Gabriel “Where is Eva?” Gabriel did nothing to hide the fear he was feeling. “With Caleb and the boys. She’s on her way. You’ll see her as soon as Yuri does his magic. Don’t you fucking do this,” he ground out. “You fight like a fucker. For her. Because she needs you more than you know. We all do.” Throats were cleared as hands reached out to touch the man who was the glue that held together this thing they called a family. Those intelligent blue eyes briefly settled on each person surrounding him. “Take care of each other,” he said just before his face screwed up in a wince. He moaned, and Yuri apologized quietly as he dropped a scalpel and inserted what looked to be a straw in the incision he’d just made between Vasily’s ribs. A gurgle sounded, and then blood poured from the tube to spill onto the dirty floor. As medical talk abounded—lungs filling with blood…shock…major blood vessel—Yuri grasped Vasily’s chin and flashed a penlight into his eyes. “You better start calling in those favors, my brother,” he muttered to the Pakhan who ruled close to a thousand men. After listening to his heart, or lungs, for a moment, he swiftly filled a syringe. “Like you always tell your boys…” He flicked the vein in the crook of Vasily’s elbow before he injected him with the substance. “Despite who we are, he’s listening.” Yuri motioned behind Alek, and Dmitri and Jak brought over the stretcher Alek recognized from the infirmary. As Yuri went back to working on the drain sight while Micha repeatedly performed an ABCs check, the boys lifted and

placed Vasily on the cushioned plank. He lost consciousness as they rushed him to the back of the house. By the time everyone converged in the small waiting area outside the room Lekzi had been treated in less than a week ago, the bright light above the door was glowing like the sun, signifying someone was fighting for their life. For the first time, that someone was the leader of the organization. With his nerves shot, and his anger raging that his uncle would do this for him, Alek wheeled around when he felt a touch on his shoulder. His life stood there. Safe. Both of them in pristine condition. One tormented, the other innocently smiling. He walked into the arm Sacha held up and embraced his future while he waited to see if they would be forced to live it without the man Alek had worshiped his entire life. Thirty minutes in and all heads came up when sneakers squeaked, signifying someone light was running down the hallway. Surprise swept the room when Tegan blew by, her expression anxious but resolute. They’d seen her at Markus’s funeral, but she hadn’t said more than a quiet, subdued hello. Though Alek had watched with a heavy heart when Maks had found her in a corner; the two had hugged it out for about five minutes. She didn’t say a word as she darted through the infirmary door, already ripping off her coat to reveal scrubs. Alek was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one suddenly struggling with an overload of emotion as they settled in to wait.

♦ ♦ ♦ Two hours and no news later, Alek could hear the crack of wood and hammering. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his breaking heart, but the crew Vincente had called in to take care of the hole in the front of the house. To try to keep his mind busy, he’d been thinking on what they were going

to do when Vasily woke from his surgery. Naturally, they’d have to stay at the other house with the boys. His uncle would just have to put up with the circus. And when this place was repaired, Alek would bring his family back here to live permanently. He wanted to share in the raising of his daughter, and aside from her mother, what better person was there to do that with than Vasily? Keeping a lid on his panic, he saw Sacha across the way, covering Lekzi, who’d fallen asleep in her bassinet. If he had a family to bring back. Which he would. It just couldn’t happen any other way. There would be no point to any of this if they weren’t with him. But, after this latest debacle, why would she stay? He cast his gaze around, unable to deal with that right now. The atmosphere was black, as it should be because this moment was their darkest yet. He was never more thankful to have everyone in the same room. The girls had arrived some time ago and were now silent support. Eva was a controlled mess where she paced in front of a brooding Gabriel. Alek slowly turned back to peer out the wide window next to the exit that showcased the back driveway where their private ambulance was parked. He and Maks had been standing side-by-side for the past thirty minutes. “This is the second man to go down because of me, Maks,” he said quietly, unable to keep from voicing what he imagined everyone was thinking. “Two in one week.” “Markus’s sitch really didn’t have anything to do with you, brother. Sergei had eyes on him. He probably could have taken him out at any point that night. The fuck just bid his time so Markus’s death, like the others, would make an impact. You heard him; the point was to start a war with Lucian. Again, nothing to do with you.” He turned his head. The shadows swirling in those silver eyes of his were fierce and ripe with fear. “But the man in there? Yeah. He’s in there because of you. He took that slug to the chest for you. Just the same way you’d have taken one for him. The same way I’d have taken one for Micha. The same way Gabriel would have taken one for V. You get my point? You’re his kid, man. That’s how he sees you. Of course, he was going to do what he could to prevent

you leaving him. I just can’t believe he made it by Dmitri. I think Vasily broke his jaw.” They were quiet for a minute while Alek attempted to hold onto his balls and not turn into a weeping wreck. If Vasily’s daughter could keep it together, he damn well could, too. “How did you know to come?” he asked, wanting the distraction just as much as he wanted his curiosity assuaged. “Anton called Micha and choked out that the front door had just blown up in his face. We were packing the cars.” Sydney came over and offered Maks coffee. He shook his head without looking at her. But he was aware of her because his tattooed hand came up and his thumb delivered a gentle stroke to her cheek. She raised the cup to Alek, who also refused. After she had left, Maks went on. “We put a call in to Nika’s brother—he’s been on stand-by all week. V stayed back and waited for Caleb and a dozen of their boys in leather to descend.” He looked to the swinging doors. “Tegan was on her way to the house. She just finished a shift and had agreed to come over. Thank fuck she was close. With her and Micha helping…” His jaw rippled. “Micha should be where Yuri is in life, you know,” he said, the comment coming out of left field. “I’ve held him back.” Alek got it because his thoughts were jumping, too. “Micha is living his life exactly how he wants to,” he assured. “Just like Dmitri is.” Vasily’s byki was just outside the door, sitting in a chair someone had brought him. He hadn’t moved in the last hour. Alek had seen Quan go out and try to talk to him, but he’d soon drifted away with a pat on the guy’s shoulder when he got no response. The sound of some heavy-ass boots and gently tinkling chains came from the hallway. Welcoming more distraction, Alek turned, noting the footsteps pause halfway, then only one set continuing. No concern came after Anton, who stood just inside the doorway, re-holstered his gun. Caleb Paynne, Nika’s brother and the vice-president of the Obsidian

Devils MC, joined them in the next second. When Eva saw the dark-hair bruiser she’d grown up with in Seattle, she rushed over and was taken up in a big embrace that was nothing but comfort. The biker released her after a long minute of quiet reassurances that came out more as gruff but affectionate orders to stay positive. His dark eyes came to Alek. The tinkle had been his wallet chain because it made the same musical sound as he came over and offered a sympathetic hand-clasp and back-slapping hug. “Uh, I brought some company.” He swiped a big hand over his jaw, suddenly looking pensive as he nodded to the hallway. “He’s been worried as fuck and I, uh…” He looked at Eva. “Yeah, I get that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have overstepped.” Alek frowned until he realized who Caleb had to be speaking of. It took him a moment before he recognized he wasn’t feeling quite as vicious as he’d have expected. He met Sacha’s eyes and could see she hadn’t put two-and-two together yet. “Bring him in,” he murmured, watching her closely. “She’ll be happy to see him.” Caleb didn’t go out but gave a sharp whistle. The thuds were immediate as the two in the hall started moving. Sacha watched with only a vague interest… until the attorney came in with Vex. She drew in a sharp breath, her eyes flying to Alek as he walked over to Justin. Seeing as he was the host, he put out his hand and took a second to notice the guy was dressed casually in clothes like the ones Vincente usually wore. He didn’t look like a lawyer today. In fact, the casual dress made him blend with Vex and Caleb. Had he been wearing an ODMC vest, Alek might have… This isn’t trouble compared to where I’ve been. Justin’s words from the convention center echoed through Alek’s head, and the pieces fell into place. The fucking guy was a former member of his brother’s club. Now that explained the arrogant attitude.

“I respect you showing up here. To me, that means Sacha and Lekzi are more important to you than your balls.” Justin took his hand. “In a situation like the one I was just told about, yes, the ladies take precedence.” He was angry but controlling it. “I’m sorry your uncle was injured.” “Thank you.” With as much friendliness as he could muster, he patted Sacha’s friend on the shoulder and moved aside. As the attorney took Sacha up in the same kind of hug Caleb had just given Eva, Alek met his woman’s eyes and released the last vestiges of resentment he’d been harboring for the time he’d missed with Lekzi. It became as simple as focusing on everything ahead of them, rather than what was behind them. Back to the swinging doors his attention went, and the ten-minute reprieve from the anxiety gnawing through his guts was over. He blinked when Eva passed in front of him, her nails tapping against each other in a nervous habit she had. She was pale, her eyes were puffy, and the tension lines bracketing her mouth wobbled every few seconds as if she was trying not to break down. “Mother. Fuck,” Maks breathed as he stared at his phone, his eyes wide. “What the hell is he doing?” “Who?” Gabriel asked tiredly as if he didn’t want to deal with anymore. “Vlad the Impaler incarnate.” Maks passed the phone around—to the men only—and when it came to Alek, his jaw locked up as he looked at the ten-second movie clip that played over and over on a loop. It was his cousin, impaled on a twenty-foot spike that was stuck in the ground in the front of Lucian’s Southampton home. Sergei would twitch and then go limp, making it clear he was still alive. Because the place was secluded, the grisly sight wouldn’t be seen by the general population, but still. Holy fuck. “I’m no longer worried Fane will kill him too quickly,” Maks muttered as he took the phone back.

Almost as if it were planned, everyone’s phones started vibrating at once. Apparently, Maks wasn’t the only one who’d gotten the gif, and reaction to the torture of Vasily’s nephew was coming in from their people. Then, questions started trickling in from powerful Bratvas based in Houston, Chicago, Miami, L.A., Montreal, Toronto, Moscow, St. Petersburg, Paris, London, Madrid…the list went on and on. Lucian Fane was sending a broad and deadly message to even the darkest corners of the organized crime world. But what was it? A warning not to fuck with the Fanes? Or was he informing them that he’d lost his goddamn mind? “He has every right,” Alek said as Sacha came over to give him a warm hug. She had no clue what he’d just seen, so it had to have been appreciation for him not kicking her friend out. “Sergei needs to suffer for what he did,” he added, accepting a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. He pressed his lips to her hair as Gabriel agreed. “Same. Markus deserves—” “Markus deserves to be alive,” Eva interrupted. Her voice was raspy in her exhaustion, but the suppressed anger burned through. There was a hardness in her eyes that had never been there before. “So does my mother. But they’re not, and all because of an incident they had nothing to do with. If I also lose my father to that man…” Alek didn’t think she was aware of it, but Gabriel sure as fuck was when she winced, and her hand went down to rub across the underside of her belly. She laughed in a watery burst. “Do you want to hear something stupid?” she asked her husband. “I’m wondering if this was how Stefano felt after Adrianna was killed?” “He hasn’t been killed,” Maks growled with a steely glare. Eva met that glare head on. “If he dies, I will want someone to pay for it. For the first time in my life, I get it. I totally get this need for vengeance that I’ve never understood. Not even when those people took my mother. But now? I’m

identifying with this thing that lives inside all of you. If my dad dies not even a year after they took my mom, what will I do with that fire burning my chest? How will I get past what Sergei has taken from me?” “He hasn’t been taken,” Maks said louder. The note of pure agony that weaved into his voice had Sydney sliding the tray of sandwiches she’d just brought in from the kitchen onto a low table. She gave up on seeing to everyone and tucked herself into Maksim’s side. “You’re not hearing me, Maksim!” Eva snapped as she lifted a shaking arm and pointed an onyx-pained fingernail at the door. “If Tegan walks out of there and tells me my time with him is up already, I’m going to want someone to pay for that but he’s already as good as dead! Who will I make suffer then? Who?” “No one,” V murmured from his stance by the window. “You’ll learn to live with it the same way we have.” He drew Nika around from his back and wrapped her up against his chest. “And you’ll forgive Lucian for leaving you hanging over the pit, the same way we’ve forgiven Lore.” Because Lorenzo had been the one to kill Nika’s abusive husband, and in effect, steal from Nika and V the satisfaction of ending the man who’d caused her so much physical and emotional torment. Some of it because of Sergei. Something passed between the girls when Nika met Eva’s eyes over V’s shoulder. When they turned those determined stares to Sacha and Sydney, and the two held them without faltering, Alek was stunned by what he was seeing. He could practically feel the new bond form. A bond so strong and dangerous it nearly made the air snap around them. What if the ladies who held the most influential positions within the families were no longer content to linger in the background, oblivious to their partners’ world? Shit. In an operation as big as the Moretti family that would be meaningful. But if the women got organized and pulled in with the Tarasov Bratva while allowing Eva’s new need for vengeance to grow… Vasily Tarasov’s daughter and company would be unstoppable.

THIRTY-TWO Striding out of the automatic doors, Vasily squinted against the steady drizzle that forever seemed to be falling when he landed at SeaTac. It didn’t bother him in the least. Made him feel good. “You know I don’t like this,” Dmitri grumbled. “I do know that. You tell me so every five weeks, and it does not change anything. Go. I’ll call you shortly.” He didn’t wait for a response but nodded at another of his men and took the key he offered. “Is Olin on duty?” “Yes. I tried to call, but he didn’t answer. When he gets in touch, I will tell him you’re on your way.” “Very good.” Vasily ducked into the car he used when in Seattle and drove away, leaving the boys to head to their hotel. He would have felt more comfortable if they were staying at Gabriel and Alek’s place, but if they checked into the Crown Jewel without him, Gabriel would be all over them like a dog with a bone, and there would go Vasily’s privacy. He smiled, something he did often when he first arrived for these minivacations. This was the only time anticipation and a feeling he might consider a form of happiness overtook the hollow ache he lived with. Though calling it happiness might be stretching it because he’d lived with the real feeling for a time, and this wasn’t it. But it was close. Because he was going to see her in the next few minutes. He’d watch his kitten through the window of her dress shop, and he would yearn for her. He would burn alive for this entire weekend that he set aside to be with her—without her knowledge—yet he would come back in another five weeks, without fail, to go through the agony all over again. His phone rang as he took his exit off I-5. The Bluetooth picked it up. It was Olin, one of his most trusted.

Within seconds, Vasily was pulling to the side of the road as Olin’s words flew like shrapnel through his brain. Kathryn. Crying. Driving. Strange car. Accident. Explosion. Fireball. He sat in his car, his seatbelt strapped across his still chest, what was left of his heart shredding with the screams of a thousand agonies. This visit wouldn’t be like the ones he’d been making to Seattle for the last twenty-three years. He wouldn’t be parking and settling in with his disguise firmly in place. He wouldn’t be moaning in pain at the sight of her slight body and soft blonde hair, his fingers itching to touch as he watched with fascination her smile and laugh as she spoke to a customer. He wouldn’t be struggling to remain in place when she passed by his car on her way to the deli on the corner to buy a salad that would consist of only lettuce and cucumbers. So often, when he’d see she was on the phone, he’d opened the window a crack so he could hear her musical voice, usually tainted with a sad, wistful note that led him to believe she was talking to their daughter. Instead of experiencing those small joys, Vasily sat there picturing all that Olin had just described. Kathryn had left work early, hunched over as she rushed to her car, openly crying. She’d driven erratically and had been hard to tail. When they’d reached a stretch of road Olin had never seen her travel before, another car had come out of nowhere. The hair-raising tale had ended with both of their vehicles being run off the road. When Olin had regained consciousness, he’d seen that his car had survived; Kathryn’s hadn’t. All that had been left was a charred, smoking shell. With a calm brought on by denial, Vasily gave his instructions and got moving again. He went straight to the coroner’s office, and acting as the hairbrained detective who’d forgotten to check for identifying jewelry, he received confirmation that the only occupant of the vehicle, a female driver, had perished. He walked outside and stood next to his car for a moment, concentrating on his heart as it beat in his chest. How was it still doing that? Within minutes, he was at the compound, standing next to what remained

of Kathryn’s vehicle, and not long later, he was back at the morgue. He sat in the parking lot, ignoring his constantly ringing phone. He wanted to go in and hold her lifeless body. But there wasn’t even that. His kitten was gone. An image of her burning alive played continuously through his mind, vividly, taunting him, drilling home the fact that it all could have been avoided had he kept her by his side where she belonged. He could have protected her from her fiery death. He should have protected her. It wasn’t until the sun was coming up that he started his car and drove to the hotel. He went in without exchanging words with anyone but to ask Dmitri if they’d managed to intercept any of the men responsible for this tragedy. When he was told two had been killed during the altercation but they managed to bring the third back and he’d already been questioned, Vasily asked for him to be brought in. Moments later, the sound of the door registered as he stared out over the gray, churning waters of the Sound. She was gone. He couldn’t accept that. How would he ever accept that? Evangeline would be getting the news anytime now. His daughter was alone in New York, and she would be receiving news that her only family had been killed. She would have no idea that her father was the reason behind it. She might be crying right now, calling out for her mother. His child. In pain. Her mother, gone. His Kathryn. Burned. His kitten. Dead. Forever. Turning, he took his hands from his pockets, locked eyes with the dark stare of a Baikov soldier, and started forward. He didn’t stop until he had the man pinned to the wall next to the door. Vasily could smell the fear emanating from him. He could also smell pennies. As his mind roared in agony, English became a thing of the past, and he reverted to the type of Russian his grandfather used to speak. A guttural, rough dialect that worked well at that moment.

“What have you done?” He put more pressure on his arm and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent rushing up his nose as the man moaned. “Do those who sent down this order have any idea what they’ve started? If they wanted to provoke a reaction from me, they succeeded.” He twisted his hand and felt a rush of warmth soak his knuckles. “They succeeded by taking from me something I cannot live without. And they will pay for that for years to come.” He pulled back and jabbed with more force than last time. The sharp blade in his grip hit something hard, but he drilled through it, causing the man to howl. Vasily savored that as a puddle began to form at their feet. “The members of the Baikov Bratva will pay, right down to their sixthes. I will know when it is only those errand boys that are left, because, with every spare moment I have from here on out, I will hunt you down and take your lives the same way you took mine.” He pulled back and stabbed into the hole a dozen times in quick succession. Blood splashed, and a wet sound filled the room. But all Vasily could hear were Kathryn’s screams as the flames consumed her. How long had it taken her hair to singe, her silky skin to welt, her flesh to incinerate and her small frame to become visible to the naked eye? “It is done. Stop now.” Dmitri’s voice came from far away. It made Vasily pause and rest his arm. He was gasping for breath as he stepped back and let the mess he’d made fall to the floor. He stared at what used to be a man’s torso. It was now unidentifiable, and his fury grew exponentially because destroying this man hadn’t helped. It hadn’t lessened his pain. It hadn’t taken away his anguish. It was just one more thing he’d done for nothing. Such as leaving his helpless woman on her own, to live without him when they should never have parted. They should have lived their lives together. They should have laughed and cried and loved every single day from the moment

they’d met. They should have raised their precious child together. They should have expanded their family and surrounded that sacred unit with their love and acceptance. Vasily fell to the floor and let his grief and regret flow from his throat in an agonized howl that made the top of his head feel as if it were being sheared off. He took a breath and did it again. And again. And again. And still his pain didn’t lessen. That’s when he knew it never would. Because she was never coming back. His last effort, his final imploring wail to reach her, came in the form of her name.

♦ ♦ ♦ The boys were all stone-faced, and every female had her ears covered, trying to block the sounds coming from the operating room. Alek fisted his hands and ground his teeth to nubs as his uncle’s hoarse shouts continued. “What the fuck?” Maks growled. “Did the goddamn anesthetic wear off?” Eva pushed out of G’s arms and rushed to the doors to try to see in the window for the hundredth time. Vasily’s voice was losing its power, but it was still plenty loud enough for all of them to hear his final rough, mournful call. Eva’s mother’s name. At hearing it, their daughter broke down completely. As her fear found the outlet it had been seeking, her husband’s strong arms were there to shelter her. They were replaced often, each of them taking turns holding her, talking with her, or just sitting with her, offering whatever she needed. Nika, Sacha, and Sydney continued to keep Lekzi entertained as they fetched food and drinks that no one touched—Gabriel force-fed his wife just enough to keep her sugar on the level. Calls came in that no one answered, and those doors closing them out were continuously under observation.

At last, four and a half hours after he’d gone in, Yuri shoved through the swinging panels looking as if he’d swam the length of a swimming pool to get there. He was red-eyed and soaked with perspiration, but otherwise appeared unfazed. “We finally found those damned bleeders. He’s stable. Give me twenty to get rid of the gore, and you can come in two at a time.” He disappeared again. No one celebrated. They just silently thanked whoever it was they’d been praying to. Sacha left Eva and came over with Lekzi. The baby leaned away from her mother and into him. Remembering Kathryn’s name coming from behind those doors, Alek took his baby and wrapped her up tight. He couldn’t look at Sacha as he dreaded the coming days. He had to offer her a choice. Voluntarily give her an out. But how could he? Then again, how could he not?

THIRTY-THREE A couple of long, quiet days later, as Grigori drove the Maybach into the underground parking garage of her and Alekzander’s apartment building, Sacha tapped her fingers on the front of her purse. They parked next to Alekzander’s new Range Rover. It was identical to the one Markus had last driven; only it was black. As were the clothes Alekzander continued to wear, and would for the traditional forty-day mourning period as was the custom in the Orthodox religion. And mourning he was. Many times over the past few days, Sacha had looked up from feeding Lekzi in Samnang’s welcoming kitchen to see Alekzander sitting out back on a lounger next to the covered pool, the snow falling around him as he looked out over the sprawling lawn. She’d left the baby with one of the girls the first couple of times and gone out to make sure he was okay. He’d nodded, kissed her hand, and told her he was visiting with Markus. It had reminded her of a time shortly after they’d met and she’d caught him drifting during a movie they were watching. She’d asked him if he found the film boring. He’d smiled and told her he’d just gone off to visit with his mother for a moment. She’d loved him for that. Just as she loved him for so many things. Loved him so much she’d finally taken a hard look at this life and put things into perspective. In the time she’d known the Tarasovs, there had been three instances of violence against the women and children in the family, and two of those hadn’t involved Sacha in any way. She hadn’t even known about them until well after the fact; Eva’s mother’s death, and Renee and Evan’s death. And all three instances, when she included what had happened since her return, had been the result of one man’s actions. One hopefully-dead man’s actions. She knew things went on within the Bratva all the time, but rarely were

Alekzander or his uncle directly involved. Not that being in their position made what she suspected went on acceptable, but she wasn’t the morality police, and she couldn’t pretend to be. She’d known who Alekzander’s family was the moment he’d told her his uncle’s name, and wrong or not, it hadn’t swayed her. She’d fallen in love and built a life with her Russian anyway. Which left her with a choice to make. She could give Alekzander a grace period to mourn the losses he’d taken, wait until Vasily was back on his feet, then pack Lekzi up and leave with Sheppard, Lupin, and Sheppard’s family lawyer at her side. Lekzi would be without her father in her life and without a loving family at her back. She would be raised by a mother who was only half a person because she was being forced to live without the man who completed her. But the baby would be safe from possible harm. Or, Sacha could fully commit to the life she’d chosen when she’d walked into Alekzander’s arms after he told her their organization was basically big business that had a darker side he would always do his best to keep her away from. She could fully commit to the path she’d chosen when she’d walked back into Alekzander’s arms after he told her of his reasons for breaking her heart sixteen months ago. And she could fully commit to the path she’d chosen when she’d given herself to Alekzander, body and soul, each time they’d made love since coming back together. In all those instances, she’d chosen him. She’d chosen to be with the man who’d touched her so deeply that he was now a part of her. Lekzi had known her father from day one because Sacha had never stopped sharing him with her. The stories had been shadowed with grief and anger, but she’d shared them nonetheless, and her love had poured out of her with every word she’d spoken to the child they’d created together. In the darkness, when they’d lain in bed in that small, lonely apartment, Sacha had told her baby of every date Alekzander had ever taken her on, of every small gift he’d ever given her, of every happy moment she’d shared with a man who’d stripped her of her life as surely as he’d stripped her of her title as his.

Something he’d done because his love for Sacha equaled what she felt for him. How could she let Sergei, a sociopathic corpse, make all of that irrelevant by allowing his actions to tear apart the fragile family tapestry that was only now coming together? The answer had been simple. She couldn’t. Lucas opened the car door, and she rode up in the elevator, comfortably sandwiched between him and Grigori. As they walked down the quiet hallway, she smoothed her hair and blinked when Grigori handed her a key. Grateful, she accepted it. “I had not thought of that,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “Anton gave it to me. But Alek would have answered if I did not have it.” She nodded and used it, holding the door for them. They shook their heads. “Excuse me.” She jumped before moving aside so Anton could also go out into the corridor. Alekzander’s bodyguard took the handle, and with an amicable look, closed the door in her face. Lovely. Now they could stand out there with nothing to do but imagine her and Alekzander having sex. She shrugged. Coming into the home they’d once shared wasn’t as harrowing as she’d thought it was going to be. She felt a twang of regret when she saw their initials in the middle of the floor, but was then filled with warmth when she tripped over a pair of Italian leather dress shoes. She left her own on because she knew he liked having her in shoes. Would he want to have her? she wondered. For the last few days and nights, he’d touched her constantly, but they hadn’t had sex. Crossing the foyer, she smoothed her dress over her hips, feeling that prickling in her fingers and the soles of her feet that she always felt just before seeing him. Her feelings for this man were overwhelming. They had been right from the start and had never settled into something she felt able to handle. Her

knees were weak, she realized as she took a slow breath to steady herself. The sound of her heels clicking signified her approach so he was turning from the window as she entered the main room. Now her chest felt heavy. She looked around as she crossed to him, noting the table in the dining room was set for dinner, but she didn’t linger on any one thing because she was too busy moving into Alekzander’s hard body. His dark suit and tie were immaculate, as always. But something was different. She slipped her arms around his waist and kissed a bruise on the side of his clean-shaven jaw that he’d gotten from his fight with Sergei. He also had a black eye. “Hello, my sun,” she greeted in their own language. His arms came around her, and her eyes slid closed because it just felt so right. She rested her head on his chest and was surprised at how quickly his heart was beating. But she didn’t mention it. “I did not know you planned to have your hair cut.” She drew back and sifted her fingers through the shorter strands flirting higher up on his forehead than she’d gotten used to. Now he looked polished. “It is very sexy.” She went further into the thick mass and gently fisted a handful. “Yes,” she nodded, as though it had passed a test. “It is still long enough for when I need it.” A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and with a glowing flame burning in the backs of his icy eyes, he slid his fingers into her hair. He did as she’d done and closed his hands into fists. With the hold, he pulled her in and kissed her. “Is Lekzi with the girls?” he asked after he drew back. She nodded. “With Nika and Sydney. They called dips before Eva could make it downstairs from Vasily’s room.” He chuckled and feathered his fingers through her long strands before letting them fall to her shoulders. “Dibs.” “Oh, yes. Dibs.” It was so nice to hear humor in his voice that she thought she might start messing her expressions up on purpose. “Do you think you would be okay leaving her with them overnight?”

Her eyes flashed up from his tie, and she was just about to say no, absolutely not. She found she couldn’t. “Yes, I can do that for you if you promise we’ll go home to her first thing in the morning.” His eyes traced her face for so long she began to feel nervous. “I can do that for you,” he mimicked before taking her jaw and kissing her again. It was gentle. Soft. Leisurely. When his tongue came out, she opened for him and welcomed him by meeting him halfway. They didn’t tangle but stroked. Despite feeling him grow hard against her belly, he ended the pleasure. “I shouldn’t be enjoying you so much.” Her brows pulled down. “Yes, you should. You should always enjoy me. Each time we touch I enjoy it so much it is unnatural.” “That isn’t what I meant, but it doesn’t matter.” He released her and went to the bar. “Would you like a drink before dinner? The food should arrive anytime.” “No, thank you.” She looked around, taking in more details now. Nothing had changed. It was still the same place she’d loved, minus all her dust collectors. “I could have cooked for you.” “I know.” She looked at his stiff back. Maybe it was time she made a move by showing him the new stockings and garters she’d bought while out with Sydney and Eleanor this morning. Sacha had needed some things for Lekzi, and shopping with the Australian and her soon-to-be daughter had been fun. Before they’d left the mall with their entourage of security, Sacha had nearly died of embarrassment when Sydney had dragged into a lingerie store. She blushed now as she remembered paying for her purchases with Grigori standing next to her. The see-through bra she’d thought was such a great idea was now making her nervous. Had she not pumped before leaving home, she knew she’d have ruined its beauty by stashing a couple of pads in it. God, she needed to work on her sexy. “I am going to wash up,” she blurted, feeling nervous.

He nodded without turning. Oh, how she hated that unless they were touching, she felt as if he was shutting her out. She took her time in the bathroom where she used the facilities and washed her hands. She finger-combed her hair and made sure her mascara hadn’t flaked. When she opened the door, she paused and listened. When all was quiet, she went right rather than left. She could see the door at the end of the hallway was ajar, and she slowed to a crawl. Bracing herself, she crossed the threshold and flipped the light switch. She didn’t try to fight them but allowed the memories to come at her. The tender moments, the fights, the playtime, the sex. All of it beat against her, and she let it, took as much as she could get. Those moments were a part of her life with Alekzander, and she would cherish each and every one because one day they might be all she had. The thought had her eyes burning as she took in the familiar camel-colored walls with the snow white crown molding that separated them from the high ceiling. Framed prints of dancers in formal dress, waltzing, heads held high, frames locked, were staggered in a beautiful display on the wall next to the armoire Alekzander had used. The furnishings were heavy and a perfect mix of masculine and feminine. They’d suited the inhabitants of the room so well. It was too bad she and Alekzander weren’t the same people they’d been. Hoping she’d hear the main door—so she’d know it was safe to walk out without fear the delivery person would get an eyeful—she wandered over to peek into the walk-in closet in hopes of finding an abandoned robe. What she saw had her fingers stilling the process of loosening the wrap around her shoulders. “Oh, Alekzander…” she whispered.

♦ ♦ ♦

Alek rubbed at his throbbing chest and wished he could shove his hand under his ribs and massage the ache out of his heart. He stood at the bar with his head bowed for another minute, even though he wanted to barge into the bathroom and get this over with. He planned to tell Sacha how fucking hard he loved her. How deep it went. He’d already apologized repeatedly for all he’d put her through. But he’d yet to beg her forgiveness because she and their daughter had been drawn into a world he’d promised to keep her safe from. Then he had to sneak in the option he knew he had to give her. The one that would make it so she could walk away. A nauseating fear consumed him at the thought of living without her again. Even if he took Lekzi out of the equation, he couldn’t go a day without his family, and that family began and ended with Sacha. He’d settled back into their love without even realizing it, and if she left, forcing him to spend his life with her just out of his reach as they raised their daughter together… Fuck. Just, no. But as Vasily had told him yesterday while Alek had sat by his bedside, drowning in relief that he was able to do so, the decision to stay had to be Sacha’s. “Fuck this,” he mumbled as he shoved away from the bar. Fine. He would give her a choice. And if he thought she might be leaning toward the wrong one, he would try to sway her. Decided, he was just about to go to her when a knock sounded. His phone chimed at the same time with a text from Anton. Food is here. Going out to the foyer, he let two men in chef’s jackets in and tried to be friendly while they unloaded. Telling them to leave everything on the counter, he over-tipped them and sent them on their way, reassuring them he was okay to plate and serve. Go time. When he got there, he frowned at the empty bathroom then continued on.

He walked into their bedroom and stopped short. She was standing in the doorway of the closet. The silky wrap, black dress, and three-inch heels held his attention for only a moment. She swiped at her face before turning to him. Her perfect brows were puckered above her eyes that she’d done to accentuate the upturned corners. If the aw in her expression was anything to go by, she liked his sad little secret. He didn’t have to look to know what it was. The left side of the closet was nearly empty but for a couple of suits. The right side, on the other hand, was full. Every item he’d ever bought her—dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes, t-shirts, pants, nightwear-sets—hung in the exact place she’d left them the day she walked out the door. “What is this, Alekzander?” He jammed his hands into the front pockets of his slacks as he walked over. Halfway there, she nearly sent him to the floor when, with a distracted flick of her wrist, she threw off her wrap to reveal perfection. Tits or ass, he didn’t know where to look first. He looked away. “They’re your things,” he got out in a voice rough with lust. His eyes came back. Fuck. He wanted his mouth on the curve of her waist. Her bare waist, tongue to skin, fingers buried deep between her legs. Here, she could let go and be the beautifully noisy lover he remembered. He wanted his ears ringing. Her gaze swung up to meet his when he stopped beside her. “Yes, I…I see that,” she said haltingly. “But, why?” He shrugged one shoulder, not knowing how to answer. “I…they’re your things. I couldn’t touch them. I tried a few times. Not to remove them but to feel them, hoping to feel you. Didn’t work. Eventually, I had to stop coming here altogether. Couldn’t handle it anymore.” She dabbed at her eyes with the tips of her ring fingers in that way women did. “I like that.” His lip quirked.

“But I hate that we lost all that time,” she added. He nodded, feeling responsible. “Not as much as I do.” He took her hand and led her from the room before he tumbled her onto the bed and destroyed her instead of their waiting meal. “Food’s here. We can talk while we eat.” They got everything ready together, and he’d never enjoyed more the little touches and fleeting smiles she gave without thought. Once they sat, he poured the chardonnay and wasn’t sure he’d be able to swallow a bite of the grilled chicken and mushroom risotto. He handed Sacha a glass and picked up his own, holding it over the table until she met his gaze. “Would you like to do the honors?” She lifted a bare shoulder. “You have always done this. What would I say?” “Say what you feel,” he encouraged, loving her beyond words. She was quiet for a moment. “May I tell you something I have wanted to for a long time?” “Of course.” She put her glass down without drinking from it, and he followed her lead. “I will speak as though in the past. Okay?” Sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he nodded. She was quiet for a stretch and then she said, “I went to the doctor’s appointment you set up for me today.” Alek’s blood froze in his veins when what she was doing became apparent with that one sentence. She was going to tell him what she’d planned on telling him the night he’d broken them. “Oh?” he said through a tight throat. “Is everything all right? Did you mention you might need an iron supplement?” His heart hammered when the tips of her fingers came up to cover her mouth. “I did,” she whispered. “He did not seem worried about it.” Their eyes remained lock. “Then he’s an asshole because something is obviously wrong with you.” She giggled, the sound shaky, and rested her clasped hands together on the

edge of the table, leaning in slightly. “He was actually quite pleasant.” How many times since he’d learned of his daughter’s existence had he wondered what this conversation would have been had he not done what he had? Miraculously, she was giving this to him. Taking from him one of his regrets. Replacing it with yet another incredible memory. “He suggested I pick up some vitamins on my way home from my appointment.” Alek just stared. Couldn’t say a goddamn thing. “Prenatal vitamins.” Flames of regret and longing singed his throat. He wanted to be there to hold her hair back during bouts of morning sickness. “He said I should have brought my significant other to the appointment because he liked to make such announcements to both parties.” He wanted to see her belly grow with their daughter, feel the excitement of that first kick. “He warned me the coming months would bring many changes, but because I am young, I should have no problems.” He wanted to listen to her complain about her clothes not fitting properly, hear her ask Do I look fat to you? Am I bigger today than I was yesterday? “He asked me if my partner was a supportive man or if you were one of those busy professionals that might make me attend my remaining appointments alone. He wanted to meet you once before the big day.” He wanted to lay next to her in bed while she slept and talk to Lekzi while she was still safe and protected within the beautiful body he loved. He wanted so badly to tell his child what an amazing person she would soon meet; her mother. “I told him you were wonderful and that you would be very supportive.” Moisture dripped from his eyes and he slowly brought his hand up to jam his finger and thumb into his burning sockets, losing sight of the one who held his life in her hands. “I told him you would love the baby I carried as much as you love me.”

“I do,” he whispered hoarsely as he dropped his hand. “You were my best friend. The very best part of my life. And I fucked it up so badly. I won’t do that again. If you stay with me, if you choose to stay with me, I’ll do everything I can to make it so you never regret your decision.” Before he could hear a no, and like so many men before him, he left his chair and went to the floor at his woman’s feet. She shook her head. “Oh, no. Oh, Alekzander, no. You do not have to do this,” she whispered as moisture welled in her eyes. “I am yours. I will always be yours. I made my choice long ago. You do not have to do this.” Those amazing words had him dropping his head into her lap. He couldn’t get a word out as his heart expanded until his love for her filled him completely. She stroked his hair and gave him the time he needed. “I love you. Passionately and obsessively. I have from the moment we met. From your mind-blowing beauty to your soft, generous heart and brilliant mind I’m ashamed to say I attempted to stifle because of jealousy. You’re my greatest weakness and my greatest strength.” He squeezed his eyes shut and hurled himself off the cliff. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he took out the small box and flipped it open with his thumb. Lifting his head right along with his arm, he locked onto her gold eyes and begged for his life. “I’m giving you the power to break me with one word. Don’t.” He gave her a pointed look before going on, ever the spoiled brat issuing orders. “I would prefer its counterpart. The one that will build me up in the way you’ve done since the beginning of us. Please, honor me by voluntarily giving yourself to me. Be with me because you want to be with me. Be with me because you trust that I will die to protect you and Lekzi from this life I cannot walk away from. Stay with me because you feel what I feel, and it’s powerful enough to prevent you from doing anything but. Say you’ll be my wife, Sacha. Holy hell, that sounds good,” he murmured under his breath. “Alekzander…?”

He presumptuously took her left hand. “Yes?” “This means you forgive me for what I did with Lekzi?” “Yes, of course. I would forgive you anything. You must know that. Except this waiting. You’re fucking killing me here—” She slid down the front of his body until she was kneeling before him. Neither of them paid attention to the chair falling behind her. She took his face between her shaking hands and tipped her head, kissing him with that hunger he would forever respond to. He participated with a low growl, and, yes, he dropped the ring next to his leg and got a solid grip on her ass to pull her hard into the erection that began growing the moment she touched him. “Yes? Is this a yes?” he questioned as she nuzzled their mouths together. “This is all the yeses ever spoken in the world,” she whispered. “This is the yes that I give you along with my very soul because I cannot live without you either.” She ducked down and came up flashing the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen on her face. She held up the Tiffany box. “May I wear it now?” He took it from her and reopened it. Tossing the box, he motioned her to stand and grinned when she rolled her eyes and jumped up. He didn’t draw it out but took her hand and kissed her finger before sliding his ball and chain into place. “You are mine; my woman, my partner. You’re the mother of my daughter, the love of my life, and I will cherish you forever.” Her eyes overflowed as she looked at the brilliant white diamond set in a platinum band that now glittered on her finger. “The weekend we moved in here,” she said, still staring at the ring. “Do you remember what I told you as we folded our laundry on that Sunday night?” He remembered swiping the pile of whites to the floor and using the counter for something other than folding. He also remembered what she said. He nodded and sent his hand up under her dress to be sure he’d felt what he was sure he’d felt a second ago…yes, she’d come prepared. She was wearing stockings. Love. Her. “No matter what our future brought, the love you felt for

me would last forever.” She smiled, looking happy that he hadn’t forgotten. “It will, and I will never again attempt to deny it because it is too much a part of who I am. It is allconsuming, and I’ve finally admitted to myself how much I like that.” She pulled him to his feet, and as peace settled between them, his angel kissed his cheeks, one at a time. “Thank you for your forgiveness, Alekzander. Thank you for our precious child—I would like two more, please,” she added with a flirty wink. “And, most important, thank you for giving me the chance to prove to you that if given the choice, I will forever choose my Russian.” As his angel smothered him with kisses, the smile that settled on Alek’s face felt smug as fuck. But, he supposed, as with any spoiled brat, that’s what came with getting his way.

EPILOGUE “Now that we’ve arrived, you’re going to stop sulking. If I had wanted to be accompanied by a dragging chin, I’d have asked Maksim to bring me.” Vasily opened the car door and swung his legs out. He did what he could to hide how his face contorted as pain resonated throughout his entire body. Christ Almighty. He should have listened to the two pains-in-his-ass he’d left at Alek’s house. Yuri and Tegan had stood off to the side in the foyer as he’d walked out, both of them wearing identical expressions of if-I-wasn’t-worriedabout-losing-my-head-I’d-have-sedated-you-again. He’d ignored them, just as he was ignoring Dmitri’s miserable look of concern. “Because I know it’s eating at you…” He held up his arm. Dmitri shot forward and carefully helped him from the car. Thank fuck, too. Pride was such an idiotic thing. He needed the help. Why was it so difficult to admit it? Bracing himself, he turned to look at the house they now stood in front of. Pain that had nothing to do with his physical injury burst in his chest, but sick of feeling it, he shoved it off and attempted to look relaxed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. Vasily held still and welcomed the memory, loving it when she came to him like this. That evening, he’d smiled and reached out to brush a few strands of blonde aside so he could see her green eyes more clearly. She’d been straddling his hips as he’d lounged on a lawn chair on their small balcony. They were both wearing jeans and heavy sweaters to ward off the chill. Like what, kitten? I don’t know. So relaxed. You’re just laying here. You’re not on the phone, not swearing at your pager, not pacing with that knot that settles right here. She’d leaned forward to kiss his brow, and he’d held her there when she

tried to straighten. I am free for two entire weeks. Free to do nothing more than listen through the door as you and the baby do your thing. That is what I miss the most after I go back to my father. Hearing you. And now her. And that had been the truth. He’d loved nothing more than closing his eyes as he lay in their mussed up bed, hearing their sheltered, uncomplicated life go on around him. I cannot believe she is four weeks old already and has changed so much since I saw her ten days ago. You were right when you said she looks like me. I see it now. Kathryn’s hair had shimmered in the moonlight as she’d turned to glance into the apartment. Evangeline had been asleep in her crib. She is beautiful, isn’t she? But I don’t see the changes as much because I’m with her every day. The doctor said she’s grown more than two inches and gained almost three pounds since she was born. Reminded of that incredible day, he’d slid his hand down her thigh, traveling the length of her calf until he reached her ankle. Going beneath the cuff of her jeans, holding her eyes the entire time, he ran the tips of his fingers over the fine gold chain he could feel. You are still wearing it? I’ll always wear it, she’d promised in a whisper. But she hadn’t, he thought now as a chill swept over him despite the sun shining overhead. She hadn’t been wearing the gift when she’d been killed. Their daughter wore it now and had ever since her wedding day when Vasily had presented it for the second time, to the second most important female ever to enter his life. He gently pushed his memories back into the gilded cage he kept them in before the most painful one could surface; the three black days he’d spent alone, going through Kathryn and Eva’s house the day after Eva had left Seattle to return to school after the funeral. That’s when he’d found the anklet, hanging off

a small hook Kathryn had screwed into the bedpost of her double bed. The same bed they’d conceived Eva in. He reached up and swiped at the light sheen of perspiration he could feel breaking out on his forehead. “Let me take you home,” Dmitri requested in that careful tone he’d been using since Vasily had woken in the infirmary. “We can come back in a couple of days when you’re better able to move around.” He put a hand out and squeezed his boy’s forearm before slowly making his way up the walk. “I’ll be fine.” A crude Russian curse followed him, and Vasily couldn’t help but appreciate the sentiment. He wasn’t sure why he’d come to the house Sergei had shared with his family except to say he couldn’t get the place out of his head. He’d even dreamed of it. Had a nightmare, actually, where he’d careened off the walls, running from room to room as he’d bled to death, searching for something he knew he would not survive without. A breath stealing panic had jarred him awake this morning. He’d opened his eyes to see what was essentially his life across the way; Alek sitting in a chair with his daughter in his arms, and Eva, her hand absently stroking through the baby’s hair, her belly protruding in a beautiful swell as she stood next to her cousin talking in quiet tones. The four remaining Tarasovs. He looked on ahead and dragged his ass a few more feet. Reaching the front door, he ground his teeth together as his injuries protested his move to withdraw a single key from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. What had he been searching for in the dream? Probably Eva. Maybe one of his boys. Or maybe even his grandson who couldn’t get here soon enough. He closed down that avenue of thought, too. Couldn’t go there. He couldn’t think of what he’d almost missed out on. If not for Yuri, Micha, and Tegan, he’d be dead, and his family would have had to suffer the agony of burying him only days after saying goodbye to Markus. A lump rose in his throat as he remembered the brilliant glow of love he’d seen in all those devastated

stares surrounding him as he’d laid there bleeding out. He might have sacrificed himself for Alek because deep down he’d been ready to pack it in. But they hadn’t been ready to let him. He coughed, then cursed at the paralyzing shock that blasted through his chest. And continuing to curse his newfound weakness, he unlocked and allowed Dmitri to open the door and enter the house first. When he received a nod, he followed. Despite not having been here in months, the smell of the place was familiar. It was closed up but not musty because Sergei had killed here less than two weeks ago. It was loneliness and misery. This house reeked of it. They slowly made their way through the familiar rooms on the main floor, and the not so familiar ones on the second level. In the master bedroom, he sat on the neatly made bed. Dmitri most likely thought he was reliving some memory or other, but really, he just needed the rest. When they got back to the hallway that would lead them out, his breathing was labored, and he was damp with sweat. This had been a pointless exercise, he realized as he paused before the door that would bring them to the basement. He latched onto the handle and fought his need to lean on the wall. “We’ll take a quick look down here, then go,” he said quietly because he couldn’t get enough breath to make his voice any louder than just-above-awhisper. “You brought the pills. Take one.” He gave his gruff caretaker a glare, but it didn’t last when he saw a bottle of water materialize from the inside of Dmitri’s jacket. When Vasily raised a brow and fought a smile, Dmitri shrugged. “What? Did you think I’d upgraded to a desert eagle?” He chuckled. “Now stop being who you are and take a painkiller. No one is going to judge you for being human.” Taking the water, he went into his pants pocket…his shoulders slumped. The bottle was gone. He patted his other pocket. “What?”

“The bottle must have fallen out in the car.” “Don’t bullshit me. I heard the pills rattling as we climbed the stairs.” Vasily looked back at what appeared to be a massive staircase, but in reality was only nine steps. Coming down was nothing. Climbing…he just couldn’t. “Maybe they fell out when I sat on the bed.” “I’ll go see.” Grateful, Vasily nodded. “While you do, I’ll check out the basement. I’ll meet you back here in a minute.” The blank look he received had him growing impatient. “I don’t have the energy to fight with you, Dmitri.” The note of exhaustion in his voice confirmed it. “Now save me the trouble and go. The worst thing I’m going to come up against down there is a fucking spider.” “Sorry.” His boy threw the door open and disappeared down the stairs. Not sure whether to be flattered by the protective gesture, or fucking annoyed by it, he followed more slowly. A minute later, Dmitri was winking at him then taking the stairs two at a time to go up and do as planned. After having scoped out the basement rooms. All but one. Vasily wiped at the sweat trickling down his temple as he made his way to what was once supposed to be a wine cellar, but had ended up an empty room with piles of oak boards stacked against the wall. Going through, his shoe soles tapping on the tile he, Sergei, and Vincente had laid together, he wondered if he’d find anything more than the wine racks he’d purchased himself. With little enthusiasm, but not wanting to leave without checking everything because it would nag at him, he reached out to press the edge of the seamless door— He jerked back and had his gun out before he could blink. The pain caused by his sudden movement was disregarded. A moan. He’d just heard a faint moan. From inside the room.

Looking over his shoulder, he considered waiting for Dmitri, but then it registered that the sound had been high in pitch as if made by a woman. With his stomach cramping, and dread sweeping in to dry his mouth at what he might find, he pressed on the door and heard the quiet click of the touch latch disengage. With his finger on the trigger, he slowly pulled the panel back… What he saw in that small room in the basement of his dead nephew’s deserted house blasted a wave of shock through him that was so strong his vision warped and faded to the point where he was sure he was about to pass out. Fighting the emasculating reaction, he squeezed his eyes shut, took a slow, steadying breath that barely made it through his constricting throat, and then opened them again. What came next put his previous reaction to shame. The crippling jolt that hammered through him sent him to his knees. He hit the floor, the impact causing his gun to clatter away. He immediately brought his hands up to swipe at the hot moisture blurring his sight. Disbelief beat at him as his throat ached with the need to…to… “Kathryn…?”

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Now comes the time to single out those who helped get Ultimate Vengeance on the shelf! There are so many more than the few I have the space to mention here, but, in no particular order, I’ll make a small dent. To Mia Searles at IndieSagePR, I thank you for being one of my absolute favorite people to work with. This is the third Wanted Men book Mia and company have promoted for me through cover reveals and blog tours, and I can say with full confidence it won’t be the last. Casey Roop at Pink Ink Designs is another kind and patient soul I’d like to thank. She is the talent behind UV’s gorgeous formatting and fabulous cover. Tessa Young is an avid reader I’m indebted to for putting together the Wanted Men, Mobsters, and More Facebook group where all our fellow WM fans go to chat about the boys and share photos and opinions on the series, among other things. You’re more than welcome to join us! Another reader turned champion is Kimberly Ervin-Echols. This woman deserves more thank yous than I have to give. For her generosity, her enthusiasm for the mafia genre (rah-rah-rah!!), and the time and effort she puts into getting her authors’ names out there for everyone to discover. She brightens up a thread the moment she shows up, and I’m thrilled she found her way into my Wanted Men world. I hope she remains for the duration. To all the bloggers who have posted during a cover reveal, release day blitz or blog tour; many, many thanks to you for every reader you’ve sent my way. To my family, as always, your support is invaluable. Keep skimming, Mom. It’s only going to get gorier, and just a little sexier from here on out! And then there are my three treasured gifts. I love you guys, and I thank God regularly for blessing me with such amazing human beings to call my very

own. You make my life as full as my heart. Finally, the readers. You guys, seriously. I am overjoyed by your continued interest in this murky little world I’ve created. Four books and I feel I’ve barely made a dent in the stories I want to tell about these guys and the lucky ladies they claim as their own. Thank you for your support and loyalty. I hope to entertain you through books five, six, seven, eight……all the way down the line of mobsters, bikers, and rockers until I get to Andrew and Elli’s story. Oh, come on. You must know I already have a future planned out for those twelve-year-olds! ;)

WANTED MEN GLOSSARY Characters, Places, and Terms (D) = deceased Abel Berkman - Moretti family, Jerod Berkman’s twin brother Adrianna Perilli (D) - Stefano’s girlfriend Albert Moretti (D) – former Don of the Moretti family, Gabriel’s father, Stefano’s stepfather Alekzander (Alek) Tarasov – Vasily’s nephew, Sacha’s partner, Eva and Sergei’s cousin Alekzandra (Lekzi) Urusski/Tarasov – Alek and Sacha’s infant daughter Alesio Moretti – Gabriel and Stefano’s cousin Andrew (Andy) Martin – Sydney’s son, Maksim’s stepson, Elli’s stepbrother Angela Morgan-Taylor – Sacha’s best friend, Steve’s wife Angelina Kirov (D) – Maksim’s mother (the blade Maks keeps sheathed at his back is named after her) Anton Gorlov - Tarasov Bratva, Alek’s personal guard Aron Utkin - Tarasov Bratva, Vasily’s personal guard Artur Baikov – Baikov Bratva, eldest son, Sergei’s accomplice Apetito – Luiz Morales’s restaurant Ashlyn Russo - Lore and Father Michael’s younger sister

Baikov Bratva – main rivals of the Tarasov’s Bobby T - Moretti family soldier Boris Kirov (D) - Maksim’s father Boyevik – warrior who works for a Brigadier in a Bratva, similar to a soldier in an Italian/American mafia family Bratva – brotherhood, organization Brigadier – captain in charge of a small group, similar to the caporegime in an Italian/American mafia family Caesar Fane (D) - Gheorghe and Daria’s father, Lucian and Markus’s uncle, former owner of Club Pant Caleb Paynne - vice-president of the ODMC, Nika’s brother Charlie - Nika and Vincente’s enthusiastic young Rottweiler Claude Moraux – Fane soldier Club Pant – Sydney’s nightclub Crown Jewel – Gabriel and Alek’s luxury hotel based in Seattle Daria Fane - managing partner at Portia, Dashel, and Fane, Lucian and Markus’s cousin, Gheorghe’s sister Darren Nollan – amateur porn producer, Kevin’s cousin David Smythe - NYPD detective Dmitri Zolin – Tarasov Bratva, Vasily Tarasov’s personal guard Eberto Morales – Luiz Morale’s brother, Eleanor’s father, Emily’s ex

Eleanor (Elli) Grant – Eberto and Emily’s daughter, Sydney and Maksim’s soonto-be stepdaughter Emily Grant (D) – Sydney’s best friend, Elli’s mother Evan Pivchenko (D) - Sergei and Renee’s son Evangeline (Eva) Marie Jacobs/Tarasov/Moretti - Vasily and Kathryn’s daughter, Gabriel’s wife Evgeny Tarasov (D) - Vasily’s older brother, Alek’s father Furio Abella (D) - Stefano’s underboss Gabriel Albert Moretti - current boss of the Moretti crime family, Stefano’s little brother, Eva’s husband Gheorghe Fane - Lucian and Markus’s cousin, Daria’s brother Ghost - tattoo artist Grigori Utkin - Tarasov soldier, Sacha and Lekzi’s personal guard, Aron’s nephew Ian Preston - private detective Ivan Tarasov (D) - Vasily’s father, former Pakhan of the Tarasov organization Jakson (Jak) Trisko – Moretti family, Eva’s personal guard Jeremy Dashel - Tarasov lawyer, Managing partner at Portia, Dashel, and Fane Jerod Berkman - Moretti family, Abel’s twin brother Justin Sheppard – attorney, Vex’s half-brother, Sacha’s best friend Kathryn Jacobs (D) - Vasily’s first love and the mother of his only child, Eva’s mother

Kevin Nollan (D) - Nika’s abusive husband Lorenzo (Lore) Russo - NYPD detective, high school friend of the wanted men, Father Michael and Ashlyn’s brother, Tegan’s lover Lucian Fane – leader of the Fane organization, Markus’s brother, Gheorghe and Daria’s cousin Luiz Morales – Mexican drug cartel leader, Eberto’s brother Maria Moretti (D) - Gabriel and Stefano’s mother Mario Romani - Vincente’s cousin, manager at ROM Construct Markus Fane - executive VP at TarMor Inc., Lucian’s younger brother, Gheorghe and Daria’s cousin Maksim (Maks) Kirov – owner of Rapture, high ranking Tarasov Bratva member, Sydney’s fiancé Micha Zaretsky – Tarasov Bratva member, Maksim Kirov’s right hand (boyevik) Father Michael (Mikey) Russo - Lore and Ashlyn’s brother Nika Paynne - Vincente’s girlfriend, Caleb’s sister, Eva’s best friend ODMC - Obsidian Devils Motorcycle Club Quan Mao - Gabriel’s personal guard Rapture – Maksim’s gentlemen’s club in Hell’s Kitchen Reynard Novik - Sergei’s regular partner Renee Pivchenko (D) - Sergei’s wife ROM Construct - Vincente’s construction company Sacha Urusski – Alek’s partner, Lekzi’s mother

Samnang Oung - Cambodian housekeeper Stefano Moretti - Gabriel’s brother, former boss of the Moretti crime family, currently MIA Sergei Pivchenko - Vasily’s nephew, Alek’s cousin, Renee’s husband Sheppard, Lupin, and Sheppard – Justin’s family’s law firm Sixthes – an errand boy for the Bratva, the lowest rank, look-outs/information gatherers Sophia Romani (D) - Vincente’s younger sister Sorin Arcos – Lucian’s personal guard Sovietnik – advisor and most trusted individual to the Pakhan, similar to the consigliere in an Italian/American mafia family Steve Taylor – attorney, Justin Sheppard’s best friend, Angela’s husband Sydney Martin - owner of Club Pant, Maksim’s partner, Andrew’s mother, Elli’s guardian TarMor Inc. (Tarasov/Moore aka Moretti) - Gabriel and Alek’s project management firm Tegan Mancuso (Dr.) – close friend of the wanted men, Maksim’s best friend, Lore’s lover Underboss – most trusted individual to the boss of an Italian/American mafia family Vasily Tarasov - Pakhan of the Tarasov Bratva, Eva’s father, Alek and Sergei’s uncle, father figure to all the boys Vex Mason (Vex) - ODMC President, Caleb’s best friend

Vincente (the Reaper) Romani – Gabriel’s underboss, Nika’s boyfriend Vito Mazzotta - Moretti family soldier Yasmeen Michaels – art gallery assistant, Lucian’s interest Yuri Davidenko (Dr.) – surgeon, private MD of the Tarasov Bratva

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Nancy Haviland is an award-winning, bestselling romantic suspense author who writes about her possessive alpha males and their obsessively loved women from her home in Southwestern Ontario. Her greatest loves are her children, her playful kitty, and, of course, coffee! Website Facebook Twitter Pinterest Goodreads Gmail