Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance (26 page)

I force my fingers not to dig into the arms of the club chair. It's everything I can do not to simply leap across the room and snap his neck like a chicken bone. Does he know what he's admitting to me? Is he so arrogant that he'll simply admit to sending me into a trap?

But the answer is probably simpler than that. He probably just assumes I'm stupid.

“Why was Marco Barakov there?” I say. I'm tired of dancing around. Alek would probably have done this differently, probably have drawn information out of him bit by bit like pulling threads, so slowly and sneakily that Stosh would never have noticed.

But I'm not Alek.

“Oh, Marco… Marco…” Stosh mumbles. His upper lip twitches into a subtle snarl. “Yes, that was an unfortunate surprise…”

“You were surprised?”

“Of course I was surprised, Roman. What else would I be?”

“Stosh, how long you been in this neighborhood?” I ask him.

He scowls at my disrespect. “Roman, I'm sorry but I need to ask you to please finish your story. Once you've made your report, then we can talk about other things, compare histories. But first, I need to understand what happened at Balki's shop, please.”

I push myself forward slightly in my chair and watch with relish as he leans back the same amount. It's good that he's frightened of me. Very good.

“When I arrived at Balki’s, I closed the door, blacked out the cameras, and attempted to start a conversation with Balki. Marco entered from the back room with a piece. He shot me. So I ended him.”

“He shot you?” Stosh asks, his eyebrows going up. “That's terrible, Roman. Has that ever happened before? Has anyone ever shot the invisible man before?”

Clearly this guy does not know how close he is to the end of his own life. He wants to spend his last few minutes teasing me? What a waste.

“I believe there was a reward for Marco, yes?”

Stosh winces. He knows that the reward for Marco's death was advancement. But there's nowhere for me to advance except into Stosh’s position, and he's not likely to give that up just yet. It doesn't really matter in the long run, since Alek and I will replace the
Pakhan
when his time is up. And then Stosh will work for me, assuming he makes it to the end of today.

“What does a man like you need with reward, Roman? Don't you have everything a man could ask for? A beautiful bride… A lovely home… A career that so many would kill for?”

I nod slowly. Yes, that must be it. A career that anyone would kill for. Does he think would be that easy, to simply kill me and take my place in line for the role of Pakhan? Did he really think it could happen like that?

But before I take him out, I need to know for sure. I need confirmation.

“I suppose I do have everything a man could ask for,” I admit. And in saying it, I realize just how true it is. “And I think that you know what I will do to defend what's mine.”

Stosh nods, but I see his eyes flicker toward his wristwatch and the gesture stops me cold. How long have I been here? Why am I here at all?

My mind flips through the last few months. Leaving Atlanta for Chicago, the botched first hit, moving me and Alek into a home with cameras and bugs in every room, tying me to the Don's daughter as though assuring that I would be distracted, weak. That's it. I was drawn into this just to choreograph my ending, but for what?

That's easy. For power.

“Tell me again, Roman. I'm sorry, I'm old and the story so confusing. How did you know it was Marco?”

“Who was here before me?” I interrupt.

Stosh cocks his head sideways as though he doesn't understand the question. “If you’ll just finish the report, Roman…”

But it's too late. I'm out of my chair. Why did he look at his watch just now? Because he knows I'm not home, but Marie is. Alek is.

“
Who was here before me?
”

“Roman, Roman…”

No. Wrong answer. He's keeping me here so that I can't protect her. Before I know what's happening, the gun appears in my palm like it was meant to be there. My arm goes out in one smooth, fluid motion and I can watch it like I'm not even doing it. It's completely natural.

Pop, pop.

Stosh’s
face freezes in an expression of understanding and alarm. In the half a second that he has left, I see it. He knows what's happening. He knows that he's failed. I'm glad that he knows.

Footsteps in the hallway. I open the door to see Don Lauro’s furious face. I suppose I’ve broken some rule about not killing people in his cigar club. It was a stupid fucking rule.

“Marie!” is all I say. That's all I have time for before I’m out the door, running.

MARIE

I should buy myself a present. Maybe a piece of big, stupid jewelry. Something completely silly. Or maybe some furniture. Something that I pick out myself. Daddy would probably be so sad if I changed anything in the house, but it would be nice to pick out something just for me, just for us.

That's right,
us
. Every time that thought gets into my head I get a little thrill. It's absurd, it's obscene for sure, but it's true. There's something about my monsters that just finishes me. It's like I'm a puzzle piece that had just the right shape for them to snap into. And now I feel somehow complete.

Yes, I know how weird that sounds. But it's true, absolutely true.

I push all my hangers to the side, making a big empty space in the middle of the closet rod. There's room for probably another thirty or forty dresses in here if I try hard enough. But really, what I need with more clothes? I have everything. Daddy made sure that I had one of every top designer’s collection, and I don't even like most of the stuff, to be honest.

But when I started cleaning my closet today, I picked up my handbag and remembered it still had $12,000 in it. That just struck me as so funny, like it was a million miles away. Just a few weeks ago I was trying to escape to another country. For years that's always been in the back of my mind, and then suddenly it's like I forgot all about it. I absolutely stepped out of that lane and into a new one, like I just changed lives. I swapped that life for this life and that one seems like something that was in a dream a million years ago.

Balancing the purse strap on my fingers, I swing it back and forth. Maybe a tiara? No, that's just silly. How about a boobjob? No, that's even sillier. Besides, I wouldn't want to do anything to change the way Roman and Alek look at me.

Oh, I know... lingerie. I’ve got just enough room in my closet for a nice selection of lacey, frilly things that my men can slowly take off me. That's about it. That sounds like the perfect investment of that money.

I hear the front door close. Alek must be home and I practically skip out of the bedroom. I want to know what he thinks. Maybe we can go shopping right now. A nice trip to Michigan Avenue to pick out some panties? That sounds like an excellent plan.

“Alek? Hey, can you drive me to the —”

I stop, my heart freezes in my chest. I'm not sure exactly what I'm seeing.

“Go back upstairs, Marie!” Alek growls with his back to me. His arms are out slightly from his sides, his hands balled into fists. His shoulders heave with every slow, purposeful breath as he stands there, taut and coiled and ready to spring.

“No, no, you stay where you are,” says the man by the door. He's got his hand at hip level, pointing some kind of long nosed handgun at my Alek, my love. The man next to him snorts like this is funny and raises one arm, jerking his fingers in my direction to indicate that I should come down the stairs. I don't know what to do.

“Go back upstairs, Marie!”

I spin on my heel, ready to bolt back to my room. I'm already imagining snapping the chain on my door. I'm ready to do it, but I feel a hand around my ankle before I leave the top stair and come down hard, barking my forehead against the wood as someone drags me back down three steps.

A hand snakes around my middle and I'm hoisted into the air as I kick my feet hard, trying to make contact with anything. All I manage to do is bang my heels against the plaster walls before I'm dumped rudely on the floor at Alek’s feet.

His eyes flicker toward me with concern but I just shake my head. I think I'm fine.

“You're both dead men,” Alek growls.

The man with the gun laughs and rolls his eyes. “You know, they told us you were the smart one. Invisible man and the brain, they said. But you don't look so smart, huh?”

I can hear Alek’s teeth grinding together and I just cower at his feet, trying to figure out what to do.

“Do the girl first,” the other one chuckles. He pulls another handgun out of the back of his trousers and aims it high, at Alek’s head. The first guy lowers his piece to point straight at me. I've never seen anything as black as the barrel of a gun. Never.

“Nah, Stosh said to leave her. He wants to break her in before he’s done with her, since these two never had the balls to fuck her.”

I cough like I've just been punched. How would he even know that? How would he know there were two? How would he know that we've never… Oh my God. The cameras. There are more cameras?

Alek knows it too. He steps over my body to stand in front of me, shielding me.

“Stand back, Alek,” the first one says. “Don't make me shoot through you.”

“You're done,” Alek growls.

“No way, I'm just getting —” but he doesn't finish. He twists over sideways so quickly I don't have time to figure out how it happened. His hand goes limp as a sickening crack echoes through the room and his face twists with surprise.

“Close your eyes!”

It's Roman. He's here.

I jam my face against the floor, covering my ears with the palms of my hands, but I can still hear it when it happens. Four muffled pops, right in a row. Then the heavy thud of bodies. I lay there for a long time, my body wracked with shudders. It feels like forever before someone lifts me up.

Two someones. Both of them. Pressing me between them, keeping me safe.

“Hush now, shhh,” Roman growls. He strokes my hair but all I can do is whimper against his chest. Or Alek’s chest, I can't really be sure. The world is threatening to go white and snowy or blink out completely.

“You're fine, Marie. Safe now,” Alek says. He presses a hard kiss against my forehead.

I nod quickly. I'm fine. I know I'm fine. They saved me.

“Those were not Daddy’s men —” I start.

“I know, Princess,” Roman growls, barely controlling the rage in his voice, “those were our men.”

I feel Alek stiffen. “
No
.”

“Stosh is…
Was …
not
 what he seemed. A liar.”

“What?” I say, my voice small and weak. “It doesn't make any sense. Stosh was what?”

I open my eyes finally and see Roman and Alek staring intently at each other, passing some kind of silent communication between them. Strangely, I can almost sense it too. Stosh was behind this. Stosh was behind everything.

“He brought us here to trap us,” Alek says finally, without any question in his voice.

“It was probably his only way to get the
Pakhan
.”

“There were more cameras,” I whisper. “They know everything, Roman. They saw us… They've been watching us…”

The horror of this seeps through me like a fog. It turns my stomach. What that man said… It means that someone has been watching me with my men. Watching me for how long? All my life?

“It's all right, love. Not anymore. Everything has been taken care of.”

But I can't stop shaking. I can only peek around the edges of these thoughts that try to invade my mind. I can't understand them all the way. Every time I try to get my imagination around the idea that someone has been watching me, watching me in bed, maybe watching me sleep? It's too much. My hands shake and my breath puffs out in ragged gasps.

“Jesus, Marie. It's all right, Princess. No one can hurt you now. No one.”

I nod uncertainly but still my body won't stop shaking. Alek jerks his chin at Roman. “Get her upstairs. Take care of her. I'll get someone to clean this up.”

Roman begins to pull me away but I tear at Alek’s shirt. I don't want to be apart from him, not even for a moment. “No, don't leave me! Please. I need to be close to you. I have to be close to you!”

Alek nods. “Go with Roman now, Marie. I'll be there in a moment. I promise.”

I try to breathe deeply as Roman takes me in his arms, cradling me as he carries me up the stairs. I can hear Alek in the foyer, talking on his phone and try to block the image of those men out of my mind. They lay where they fell, their heads twisted toward the ceiling. Their bodies are crumpled like something somebody had forgotten and thrown away.

“
Malitchka... Devushka
,” Roman keeps murmuring over and over again, his lips pressed hard against my forehead as he holds me tightly to him. I can feel his heart beating against the palm of my hand when I press his chest, strong and slow. He's utterly calm. I latch onto that sensation, letting it overwhelm me like the sound of ocean waves.