An Obsession with Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 3) Page 7

  He pictured his Aussie coming up against Morales, tiny form on the defensive as she tried to hide the fear in her normally unflappable expression. What had Morales done to her earlier to make her so afraid that she’d called him? Had he threatened her? Touched her? Done worse?

  “Do not take this one from me,” he ground out again.

  “I think I should because you’re already too involved to think clearly—otherwise you’d have already come to the same conclusion I have. Do you know what will save her if she has indeed screwed with this dealer’s business?”

  Feeling tangled, Maks tried to keep up and was embarrassed when Vincente made it there first.

  “They have to think she belongs to one of you.”

  Vasily nodded. “Exactly. Is she worth that? Is this relative stranger worth the time and effort required to convince Morales she’s untouchable? We don’t know Sydney Martin well and really don’t owe her anything.”

  “I do,” Vincente said. He’d picked up the miniature globe on Maks’s desk and was spinning the pewter-colored earth in a lazy circle. “When we went to her club looking for info on Nollan, Sydney didn’t hesitate to share what she knew. Had Maks not already found out about the cousin in New York, Sydney supplying that asshole’s name would have given us one hell of a lead. I’d say she deserves a boon.”

  “From you,” Vasily pointed out.

  V looked as surprised by that division as Maks felt. As close as they all were, and despite the two distinct families—Tarasov and Moretti—Vasily normally didn’t split hairs like that.

  Vincente was officially part of Gabriel’s crew. Not Vasily’s.

  “Your daughter would probably say ‘from us,’ ” Vincente pointed out. “Considering what Nika is to her.”

  Vasily’s daughter, Eva, was Nika’s best friend, had known her since childhood. It was no secret Vasily would do almost anything for his grown daughter, who was now married to Gabriel, head of the Moretti family.

  Vasily smiled. “Yes, she would. Okay then. It seems Ms. Martin earned herself an IOU and is now calling it in. Now we just have to decide who she will belong to, so to speak.”

  Wondering if he was being punked or some shit, Maksim went around his desk, not sure whether to pace, sit, stand, or wave. Christ. When was the last time he’d had to prove he was the man for the job?

  “I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but Morales doesn’t have the balls to come at me. If you give this to anyone below me, the fear factor won’t be the same.”

  V snorted. “You for real? Since when are you worried about sounding arrogant?”

  Vasily’s expression said he’d been thinking the same. Maks ignored them both, having been serious. He was who he was, and others in their world feared him.

  “I agree,” Vasily allowed. “It wouldn’t be as convincing and would take longer than necessary if we didn’t skim from the top. So that leaves you, Alek, or Sergei.”

  Wading through the warmth filling him at being lumped in with Vasily’s blood, both Alek and Sergei being his nephews, Maks heard himself offering respect by verbally stepping back. “Yes, but it’s your decision to make.”

  Vincente’s phone buzzed, and he took it out to read the text. He was already heading for the door when he murmured, “Gotta go.”

  “Vincente?” Vasily said.

  V stopped with his hand on the knob and turned back. “My NYPD contact just freed himself up,” he volunteered before being asked. “Nothing serious.”

  “Where is Gabriel tonight?”

  “At home.”

  “Why are you on your own?”

  V’s lip pulled up in the corner, and for a split second he looked bashful in light of the concern. “Alek came with, but I’m not taking him to the meet because my snitch scares easily.”

  “Where will you end up after your meeting?”

  “Old Westbury.”

  Vasily dismissed him with a satisfied nod, and Vincente departed, the edge of his long coat barely making it out before the door closed behind him.

  After going to the bar in the corner, Maks poured two drinks.

  “We both know Sergei isn’t up to the job,” Vasily said as he accepted one from his perch on the front of the desk. “I’m not so sure Alek is either, but I’m working on that. So that leaves you.” He raised his glass, and Maks clinked his against it before taking a drink and putting the chair in front of his monitors to use. “For the first time ever, that isn’t as comforting to me as it should be.”

  Swallowing the vodka, and the insult, Maks demanded, “Why? How can you think I’m not the man for this goddamn job, Vasily?”

  “Because I know you, Maksim. We’ve used this method before to force an associate to stand down. But you wouldn’t know that because I’ve never involved you in a job so tedious. It’s time-consuming and boring, and I’m not sure you realize what’s involved. You and Sydney would be put together for hours at a time, and those hours would most likely turn into days that might—depending on if Morales is the suspicious type—become weeks.” His brow tweaked. “That might sound pretty attractive to you right now, until you remember this would be a job and it would be strictly hands-off. The role-playing would be for the sake of the outside world only. Any deeper involvement would complicate things. We can’t risk her blowing the setup over a lover’s quarrel. We could end up headfirst in a war with the Mexican cartel, which I’d like to avoid.”

  The flames that had begun heating Maks’s blood were doused. “And I would have a problem with that . . . why?”

  “Because you want her.”

  He did. Badly. But . . . “This has clearly become about more than me wanting to fuck a beautiful woman. Morales has threatened her. She never would have come to me otherwise. How am I supposed to turn my back on something that had to have cost her?” He swallowed what was left in his glass and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Do you have any idea what a control freak this woman is? I’ve known her, what, a couple months? In that time I’ve come to see she’s strong and stubborn and completely self-reliant. In character—physically she’s a piece of fluff. So for her to reach out? She knows she’s in some serious trouble.” He felt his mouth curve into a deeper frown than before. “Despite what you think, knowing that really does trump my dick wanting a smile.”

  In his periphery he could see Vasily studying him, but he didn’t look up from the melting ice in his glass, too skittish of what he might see. If he was refused and the job handed off to Alek, Maks would have zero say in the matter. He’d have to watch from the sidelines as one of his best friends paraded Sydney around town, taking her on dates, possibly kissing her to make them look legit. Holy fuck. That wouldn’t be pretty. But what choice would he have other than to stand back and allow it to happen? None.

  He heard Vasily rise, and he did the same, bringing his head up when the role of bootlicker became too much for him.

  His Pakhan stood before him, expression resigned. “You’ll protect her from whatever threat Luiz Morales poses to her.” Maks held his shoulders stiff instead of allowing them to sag in relief. “Your job will be to convince him and his people that she is yours and is under our protection as a loved one. He has to know that to persist in his efforts to punish her for her sins will do nothing but bring our entire organization down on him. You will take her out, flash her around in public—our public,” he stressed. “Heading off for a weekend in Atlantic City would be pointless.” His navy eyes narrowed, his look turning curious. “When was the last time you went on a date, Maksim?”

  A date? He scrambled for an acceptable response. And was silent for too long.

  “Do you ever take your women to the theater?” Vasily inquired. “To the park for a picnic? To see a play? A movie? For an hours-long dinner in a nice restaurant? Skating at Rockefeller Center under the lights of the big Christmas tree?”

 
A rash of goose bumps rose like shark fins on Maksim’s arms. “Not in this fucking lifetime.”

  Vasily laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, according to my daughter and Nika, that’s the kind of shit they’re missing out on because of their men’s line of work. We’ll just have to assume Sydney’s likes would fall under the same category of what’s acceptable as an evening out, even though there is a slight age difference between her and Eva and Nika.”

  “How do you know Sydney’s older than Eva and Nika?” Maks latched on to that rather than dwell on what he might be doing over the next few days. Which would be visiting one horrifying let’s-go-here-so-we-can-get-to-know-one-another bullshit site after another. Places he’d always avoided so he wouldn’t have to learn shit about his women. Get to know them and possibly like them? Which would, in turn, give them the ability to hurt him if they lost interest and moved on before he was ready to let them.

  It had never happened. Because he’d never allowed it to happen. But everyone moved on, even parents.

  “So, do you know Sydney?” he asked when Vasily made him wait for an answer by checking and responding to a text. “How do you know her age? Do you know anything else about her?” All this time, after all his dead-end research, all he had to do was ask Vasily?

  Uh, slow the eager beaver, dude, his manhood drawled.

  After giving him a look, Vasily placed his empty glass on the bar top and took a bottle of water from the ice bucket. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but Pant used to belong to Cezar Fane. When he found out his wife was cheating on him with his byki—after he took care of the disloyal worm—he liquidized most of his assets so the wife would be left with nothing after the divorce. He offered the club to a few of us, and even for the peanuts he was asking, we declined. Afterward, he told me he was going to pass it along to one of his girls—a bartender of his. I assumed she was his mistress but he was adamant there was nothing like that between them. Sydney received the club shortly after, and, since he was stepping back because of his illness and Pant is in our vicinity, he asked if I’d keep an eye out. The boys and I introduced ourselves a couple of years ago, and things have gone well enough for her that I’ve never had to involve myself in her business, until now.” He settled on one of the chairs in front of Maks’s desk. “Cezar spoke highly of her, carefully though, as if trying not to let something slip. I found that interesting but not interesting enough for me to look into her.”

  Pretty much the same story Sydney had given him earlier, only with more details. “Well, I’ve looked into her, and her past is missing. Nothing comes up on a search of her name, so I’ll assume it isn’t really hers.”

  “Find out tomorrow,” Vasily suggested. “If she’s asking for help, we have the right to know who we’re helping.”

  Maks felt good about that. They did indeed.

  Finally, he would get something on her. The anticipation that had been simmering under the surface since Sydney’s call, the same anticipation that had fizzled and died when Vasily had called him off the chase, sparked back to life. There was nothing he loved more than information.

  “When will you contact Morales? Or do you want me to?” he asked as Vasily replaced the lid on his water bottle.

  “I’ll call him myself. I have to work on a reason for not having revealed your ‘personal connection’ to Sydney during our meeting tonight.”

  “Say she and I keep it on the DL so my enemies don’t use her or her business to get to me.” That’s what he’d do if this farce were real.

  Vasily inclined his head as the door opened, and Alek came in, followed by Micha. “Done,” he said. “Have your meeting with her tomorrow, and let me know what you learn about what she’s running from.”

  “Will do.”

  “Who?” Alek asked.

  “Sydney Martin,” Vasily answered. “She and Maksim are officially an item, so be friendly.”

  Alek’s raised brow was nowhere near as disturbing as the knowing look Micha threw his way.

  He easily ignored them both as he went around his desk and sat. In his mind, he was rescuing a damsel in distress amid the deserted rides at Luna Park. He was also demanding answers and getting them.

  It was brutally disappointing that he and his “date” wouldn’t be conducting any of their coming get-togethers while intertwined amid some tangled sheets, hands roaming, eyes rolling in supreme pleasure, but he got the whys.

  Distraction got people killed. No second chances.

  And Vasily had issued an order.

  Nika’s face flashed in his mind, followed by the image of her shot and bleeding out in front of him. Yeah. Being emotionally involved in a situation—even peripherally—sucked dick when things went wrong. The business-is-business rule was a good one. If he implemented it, maybe he could be spared the grief he’d suffered after his most spectacular fuckup to date.

  What if next time he wasn’t gifted that two inches and the shot was a killing one?

  His Aussie’s face flashed next.

  Fuck that. Not on his watch.

  Vasily surreptitiously watched the chill settle into Maksim’s stare and wondered where the guy went when he adopted that I-am-an-island countenance. Did he go to that cage Vasily had found him in? Or to the home he’d left behind in Russia? Was he thinking about what had happened with Nika?

  If only they knew what the triggers were so they could avoid sending him there so often. But after nearly twenty years, Vasily was coming to see it was more about what went on in Maksim’s own head than anything anyone else said or did.

  Wandering over, he again saw Pant’s website on the computer monitor and felt the oddest need to smile. He doubted Maksim himself knew what to do with the attraction he felt for this girl. His ferocious need to protect her, the confusion she’d put in his stare from the moment they’d met, the arm’s length she insisted on with him. Vasily had watched Maks’s fuck-it-if-it-moves-then-get-it-away-from-me antics for enough years to know Sydney Martin’s pursuit was different. She was making him work for it, and he didn’t yet realize that was part of the draw. He also didn’t realize the draw was a strong one, and now that Vasily was finally seeing Maks experience it, there would be no interference. But that green light would come after this job. Because they all knew what distraction on the job could bring. Death.

  He supposed he could set Maks on the back burner and hand the assignment over to one of the others, or refuse to get involved at all.

  The latter hadn’t really crossed his mind. Aside from his vow to his dead friend to watch Sydney Martin’s back, she seemed like a woman who did things for a reason. And he was very curious as to what the reason might be for crossing Luiz Morales.

  As for delegating the job to someone else, again, he wouldn’t have done that to Maksim. Even though the guy was one of his most powerful, and dangerous, Vasily knew he was also one of his more volatile. Understandably.

  Maks, as civilized as he most times was, still had moments when he was downright feral. As he’d been when Vasily had found him, hair shaggy and hanging in his eyes, living in his own filth. Having heard about an organization making their dime in the kidnapping/ransom market, Vasily and his crew had gone in as soon as they’d located the operation. They’d released more than a dozen young men and women from that vile-smelling underground horror show. But not Maksim. Yes, Vasily had sensed the threat in the kid immediately, but he’d also gotten something else. Something that wouldn’t allow him to walk away.

  A big skeleton with skin had sat with his back to him that day. Vasily hadn’t called out but had stood, knowing his presence hadn’t gone unnoticed. It had taken Maksim fifteen minutes before he’d turned. His silver eyes had met Vasily’s; they were unusual in their beauty, but it had been the strength of the hate in them, the absolute rage, that had made an impact.

  You lost? Maks had murmured.

  Later,
after having explained for the third time who he was and why he’d come, Vasily had unlocked the cell door.

  I don’t trust this, Maks had said in his deep, raspy voice. I don’t trust what you’re doing. Where are you taking me now? Where are the others?

  My men have brought them to the hospital. Fourth time he’d had to say it.

  But not me.

  No, not Maksim, who Vasily had instinctively known was more dangerous than all the others put together. Dangerous, and intriguing. He’d told him so.

  The emancipated kid had shuffled out, holding his gaze. Stopping, Maks had hesitated, stiffening, as if waiting for a blow. When it never came, he’d held out a big hand.

  My loyalty is yours until the end of my life.

  Their connection had been sealed, and Maks had been part of Vasily’s organization ever since.

  Focusing on the present, hating to play the heavy, but with this headstrong man he sometimes feared for and loved as he had his own blood brother, Vasily knew he had no choice. “One more thing.” He turned and waited for that dark head to rise, those shadowed eyes to meet his. “You have Micha for a reason. You go anywhere without him or one of your boys during this assignment, I’ll cut you off at the knees. Don’t think I won’t. Your updates will be often enough that I want them to get annoying. Understand?”

  When Maksim gave him a solemn nod, he drained the rest of his water and tossed the bottle into the blue bin next to the printer. “Since it seems we’re done here, I’m going home. I’m having breakfast with my daughter first thing, and I know she worries when I’m late. Good night, boys. Alek?” He stopped before his hollow-eyed nephew. “Didn’t you come into the city with Vincente?”

  “Yes. He must have assumed I’d hitch a ride home with you.”

  “He texted me a few minutes ago to make sure I didn’t leave without you,” Vasily assured him as they headed out. The way these boys watched out for one another, even in so small a way, was comforting to him. Most days, in this business, even the smallest gesture of support was valued.