My tears haven’t dried ever since I finished reading the letter Kyle left me.
When I woke up this morning, groggy and so utterly sore, a smile grazed my lips at the recollections from last night. I couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot over how Kyle couldn’t hold himself in.
I was looking forward to talking to him today about everything—the baby, the marriage, our future together.
Everything.
I was even willing to divulge my attraction to him seven years ago, that it took so much self-discipline to stop myself from being with him even though I had a major crush on him. That, back then, I kept my bottled up feelings to myself because I was worried Dedushka would kick him out if he found out my intentions. I preferred to have him as a guard instead of losing him once and for all. At least that way, I could watch from afar and pretend we were together. That’s why his departure hurt more than it should. He disappeared off the face of the earth before I had the chance to express my feelings.
Now he’s repeating it.
I’m not fully over the first time, but he did it again. The only difference is that he has no plans to come back.
A sob tears from my throat as I hold the letter to my quaking chest. My heart is breaking, shattering, and slowly vanishing. And the worst part is that the only person who can make it better is gone.
Damn him. God damn him.
How dare he leave me with just a letter? How could he?
But you know what? I’m not the same Rai from seven years ago. I’m not the girl who put her pride above everything else and stomped on her heart in the process. This time, I’ll find him, and he better be ready for the wrath I’ll unleash on his ass.
I try to get ready as fast as possible, even though I’m so sore it hurts to move. The reminder of him inside me, holding me, caressing me, and kissing me brings a new wave of tears.
Shaking my head, I finish putting a dress on and don’t bother with makeup. On my way outside, I search the local news articles for anything fishy. There’s no mention of Rolan being assassinated, so that means it didn’t happen yet.
His death would cause an uproar in the media since he gets involved in many notorious business ventures.
Katia stops in front of me, her eyes holding questions she’s not voicing aloud.
“I need to find Kyle. Have you seen him this morning?”
She shakes her head.
“I don’t care what you have to do as long as you find him. I’ll go ask Granduncle for backup.”
I’m marching to his office before she can reply.
Anastasia is waiting near it, her brows drawn together, and she’s wearing black slacks and a jacket. It’s so rare of her to wear anything but dresses. She smiles upon seeing me, but she must sense something is wrong because she jogs toward me.
“Is everything okay, Rai?”
“It will be.”
“Are we going to the company?”
“You go first, Ana. I’ll join once I finish my business here.”
She swallows, her throat working, and a strange gleam passes in her eyes.
“Is there something you want to say?”
“I…I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything. I love you, okay?”
“Love you, too, Ana.”
She wraps her arms around me and then retreats, not allowing me to see her face as she turns around and leaves.
I frown at the weirdness of what just happened and contemplate following her, but my mind is too occupied with everything Kyle to focus on anything else. Once this whole thing is over, I’ll talk to her.
My hand is on the doorknob when Vlad’s brooding presence stalks down the hall. I assume he’s going to Sergei, too, but he breezes straight past me.
God damn it. Being treated as if I don’t exist by Vlad, of all people, hurts more than I’d like to admit. I release the doorknob and stride behind him. “Wait.”
He halts and spins around, his expression blank. “Do you need anything, Mrs. Sokolov?”
“Yes, I need you to stop treating me like a stranger.”
“Should’ve thought of that before you teamed up with a stranger against your own brotherhood.”
“Kyle is not a stranger, Vlad. He’s my husband.” The truth behind those words hits me to the core.
“In that case.” He nods, about to leave.
“I’m pregnant.”
That stops him and his eyes narrow. “Another one for show?”
“No. It’s real this time.”
“Congratulations,” he grunts.
“I don’t need your half-assed congratulations, Vlad. I need you by my side so I can protect Dedushka’s bloodline.”
I’m going for a low blow by using his loyalty to my grandfather, but it’s the only way to convince his mule personality.
“How about Kyle?”
“Kyle will be there, too. I don’t expect you to be best friends, but try?”
He grunts, but says nothing.
“For me?” I soften my tone. “Are you going to leave me alone in the midst of the pack of wolves of the elite group?”
“Of course not.”
“Then stop sulking.”
“If that fucker Kyle hurts you, I’ll happily torture him all over again.”
“You might get the chance to do that as soon as I find him,” I mutter under my breath.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s off to kill Rolan and disappear.”
Vlad clicks his tongue. “That idiot always did things without coming back to the inner circle.”
“Let me go ask Sergei for backup, then we will sit down and formulate a plan.”
“You want me to go with you?”
“Thank you, but I can at least ask Sergei for things on my own.”
“I’ll be downstairs,” he says, and I nod.
After knocking on the office’s door, I open it and step inside. I pause when I find an unknown man sitting across from my granduncle.
“Rai. Come in.” Sergei motions at me to join him, so I close the door and do just that, bluntly watching the new man.
He appears to be in his mid to late forties. His large frame dwarfs his dark suit. His brown hair is styled back, and he’s sitting in a nonchalant position. It’s not so threatening as to attract attention, but it’s not slack either, like he’s ready to jump up any second. It’s so similar to…Kyle’s.
Tattoos cover the backs of his hands, and they don’t appear like the ones I recognize from the Bratva, the Triads, or the Yakuza.
He’s watching me as intently as I’m watching him, like we’re two predators before a fight over who owns a territory.
“This is Rai.” Sergei introduces me.
“So she’s the one Kyle married.” the stranger observes quietly. British accent. Wait, could he be…
“Are you…Kyle’s…”
“Godfather, yes. My official name is Ghost, but you can call me Julian.”
“You’re the one who told him he’s dangerous.” My voice rises. “Why would you say something like that to him? Don’t you know he lost his parents when he was freaking five? They were murdered in front of his eyes, and he was never able to receive love after that. That’s why he becomes overprotective—it’s because he doesn’t want to lose any more people. He says you raised him and knew him his entire life, so how could you make him believe he’s defective?”
“Because he is.” Julian remains calm, not a single muscle moving in his face. “He was defective from a young age, and he will never love normally or have fairytale characteristics. He’s obsessive, he’s driven, and he can become reckless sometimes. It’s who he is and it will never change.”
“Who told you I want to change him? I accept him the way he is.” My lips part at that confession, because it’s true. I do accept him the way he is. I even love those darker parts of him, the overprotectiveness, the possessiveness, how he makes me feel like I’m his world. I love everything about him, from his infuriating passive-aggressive attitude to how he provokes me and everything in between.
I love him.
I just love him, and that’s what has been breaking my heart since I woke up to find a letter in his place.
“No wonder he said he drove you to the point of no return,” Julian muses.
My heart picks up speed. “Have you talked to him?”
“Yes, some time ago.”
I leave Sergei’s side and stand in front of him. “Where is he? What is he doing?”
“Last time I checked, he was trying to kill Rolan.”
“He’s not dead.” I chance a glance at Sergei. “Right?”
“No, he isn’t,” my granduncle confirms.
“Then…where is he?”
Julian forms a steeple at his chin. “I suspect something went wrong.”
“What?” My voice sounds as spooked as I feel.
“When I was talking to him, I believe he was interrupted.”
“Interrupted by what?”
“The question is who.”
“What happened?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.” Julian stares at his watch. “If Rolan has a demand, he would make it about now.”
“You think Rolan has him?”
“I’m almost sure. Kyle went there to kill him, and since he’s not dead, that means the situation slipped out of control.”
I brace myself against the chair, sucking in a deep breath. The idiot. Why did he have to go there? Why did he jeopardize himself like that?
He’ll be okay, right? It’s Kyle, after all. No one will be able to hurt him.
Sergei’s office phone goes off, its ringing echoing in the silence of the space. My head jerks up at the sound.
Granduncle picks it up and puts it on speaker. “Sergei Sokolov.”
“Rolan Fitzpatrick. How have ye been, Sergei?” The unmistakable voice with the Irish accent slips through the phone. My fingers dig into the cushion of the chair.
“Good, good.”
“Unfortunately, the piece of news I have might ruin yer mood.”
“What happened?”
“Sadly, I was attacked by one of your closest men. Your grandniece’s husband, I believe. How unfortunate.”
“Where is he?” Sergei asks slowly, not losing his cool, which is far different from how I’m barely holding on.
“He’s with the lads downstairs. How unfortunate, indeed.” He has a provocative way of speaking, slow, but meant to get on your nerves.
“What do you want?” Sergei asks.
“Not much. Just the territories you’ve been slaughtering my lads over. Hand me those and I’ll hand ye yer in-law.”
“You think I would ever give up brotherhood territories?”
“Does that mean you’d rather give him up? Unfortunate. Very unfortunate.” Rolan pauses. “I’ll give ye a day to think about it. After that, I’ll send ye his head.”
The line goes dead and I stagger against the chair. My stomach churns and I grab it as I slowly sit down.
“Are you okay?” Sergei asks me.
“I’m…not.” My voice catches at the end, but I swallow and meet his gaze. “We have to do something.”
“I won’t give up Bratva’s territories, not even for my own daughter. After all, dozens of men died to secure them. The leaders would choose to kill Kyle themselves instead of making the brotherhood appear weak.”
I know that. I know it, and yet, my brain is fried. All I keep thinking about is the image of Kyle’s head.
Shit.
My stomach lurches again and the need to vomit hits me out of nowhere. I breathe deeply to shoo the sensation away.
I can’t fall down now. If I do, I won’t be able to protect Kyle and our unborn child.
Sucking in a deep breath, I face Sergei. “Can you call a meeting? I have a plan.”
