Owned by the Russian Mafia Boss: A Mob Romance (26 page)

BOOK: Owned by the Russian Mafia Boss: A Mob Romance
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Dead. The man under her was dead.

“Come on,” Dmitri urged as he reached her. “We have to go.”

She heard him, but his voice seemed a million miles away. She’d killed someone. She’d taken someone’s life, and she hadn’t even given it any thought. It was him or her, and she’d just acted.

“I’m sorry,” Dmitri muttered, and she felt a searing pain through her shoulder.

“Damn it,” she screamed as she looked up. Dmitri was digging his fingers into her wound. “What are you doing?”

“You’re going into shock, and we have to go.”

He pulled her up, and she looked at the man helplessly. “I killed him,” she said lamely.

“Yes, and if you hadn’t, he would have killed you. And if that happened, I’d be killing him. Either way, he was going to die. Be glad that you didn’t have to die with him.”

She stared at him in horror as he continued to pull her from the room. To him, life was nothing. Taking a life was part of his job, what he did to survive. He’d barely blinked as he’d looked at the dead body.

So cold. He was so cold inside.

What could he possibly think of her? Did he even care enough to make sure that she made it out alive?

Chapter Five

Today, the boy turned eighteen. There was no cake and no presents. There was no party. In fact, it was entirely possible that no one, not even the boy himself, remembered that he was eighteen. In the eyes of Ivan, he was already a man. He’d taken orders. He’d taken lives.

Instead of a gathering of loved ones, the boy stood at the edge of the bridge. The note left at the house detailed what he was about to do and why he was about to do it.

The things he had seen were driving him mad. At first, he had felt nothing. He’d been cold and even. But every night, the picture of his father burned into his memory. The dead man who spilled blood all over the carpet was his sole companion. And he simply couldn’t handle it anymore.

No one would be surprised. His dark and silent manner had invited concern from his teachers. Even those who called him lover or friend would admit there was something off and strange about him. No one would investigate. No one would think twice.

As people on the highway began to slow down, some pulled over and got out of their car. They approached slowly and begged him to come down. Come to safety. It was far too cold and windy and bitter for him to be standing half naked on the beams of the bridge.

Ivan had plans for him. And for a while, the boy thought Ivan was right. But Ivan wasn’t focused. His attentions were split, and the boy could no longer work for him. There was only one goal, now. The boy would do it alone.

With a final of cry of rage and defeat, the boy turned man spent his eighteenth birthday flinging himself off the bridge and dying.

***

At the hotel, Dmitri hooked his hands under her and lifted her easily on to the bathroom counter. She didn’t resist as he removed her shirt and examined the bloody gash on her shoulder.

“It didn’t hit any arteries. I’ll clean it out and wrap it. It should stop bleeding soon,” he said quietly. He was concerned about the blank look in her eyes. Anyone else would have been terrified, but she seemed to have checked out.

Once again, she’d proven more than capable of handling herself. The petite history student had faced two trained assassins and lived to tell the tale. In fact, he began to wonder if there wasn’t more to her. What were the odds that she could have bested not just one but two professionals?

Still, her methods had been rudimentary at best. He doubted that she was trained. The most likely answer was that, given her size and status, no one actually expected her to fight back. And when she did, it threw them off balance.

It certainly threw him off balance.

He tried to ignore the black lacy bra and the way her cleavage heaved with every breath. Grabbing a bottle of vodka from the bar, he poured some over the wound and began to clean it.

With her eyes on him, she grabbed the bottle and drank from it.

“Easy,” he said as he took it from her. “I’m not sure I can handle you drunk.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “You can’t even handle me sober.”

It was the first sign of life in her since they left the bodies, and Dmitri smiled. If they were arguing, she would be okay.

“You just left the bodies there,” she muttered.

Dmitri didn’t say anything. Kaz wouldn’t be pleased that Dmitri hadn’t taken care of the evidence, but that’s what Kaz got for not answering his damn phone. Plus, Dmitri had been far more concerned about the blood gushing from Charley’s arm than rolling dead bodies into expensive Persian rugs.

“You did good,” he said quietly.

To his surprise, Charley rolled her eyes. “Stop. Stop saying that. It’s ridiculous that I’m fighting to stay alive, and the best you can do is compliment me. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me, or I’ll leave.”

“You probably won’t survive if you leave me,” he muttered.

“Most likely. And then I’ll haunt you every day for the rest of your life. Doesn’t that sound like torture?”

Just the thought of her not being around twisted his stomach into knots. When he finished wrapping her arm, he handed her shirt back to her. She flung it into the corner. “I’m not wearing that. It has blood on it.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” he promised.

“Dmitri. I just killed someone.”

He raised his head and looked at her. She had blood caked in her dark curls, and her eyes were desperate. She wore sass and wit like a mask, but as she sat on that counter covered in the blood of another, she was naked and vulnerable.

“My father was an engineer. He abhorred the thought of violence, but he was the top designer in his field. He found himself working for Fedor Saiko as a weapons designer. I don’t know the full story. I don’t know how he got roped into it, but I know that he tried to get out. He tried to quit, and they came for him. I was just a child, and I hid while they blew him away.”

She watched him quietly, but she didn’t interrupt. He continued. “Ivan Bobrov was my father’s good friend. I called him Uncle Ivan. I made my way to him, and I told him what had happened. Ivan took me in and raised me. He had no children of his own, and I became like a son to him. But Ivan was consumed with hatred, and that’s how he raised me. I was always to avenge my father’s death. I was always meant to kill Fedor Saiko. When I was eighteen, I realized that Ivan was never going to go through with the plan to kill Fedor. He’d set his sights on something else. He wanted power and money. I wanted revenge. So I left. I struck out on my own, and I waited until I could finally find a weakness in Fedor’s impenetrable armor.”

“Veronika,” Charley breathed.

Dmitri nodded. “Veronika and Kazimir gave me my chance. I wanted to pull the trigger myself, but in the end, all that mattered was that he died. Suicide was not what I had hoped for, but the end results were the same. I thought I was free.”

“Aren’t you?”

Dmitri gave her a hard look. “Ivan was touted as Fedor’s good friend. He took over the business. He got all the power and money he’d always craved, and he’d done it on the back of Fedor’s death. It made me suspicious to say the least. How could Ivan and Fedor be friends if Ivan knew that Fedor had killed my father?”

“Maybe he was playing a longer game,” she said quietly.

“Oh, he was. But I don’t think that game included vengeance for my father.” Dmitri sighed. “I think there’s something more going on here. Ivan doesn’t believe that I’m dead. He’s looking for me.”

“Maybe he misses you.”

“Our relationship was never one based on love. Ivan isn’t just looked for me. He’s sending assassins to kill me. The thing is, I need to get inside that house and figure out what’s going on. That’s the only way this is going to end.”

“So confront him. It’s not like you’re not better than his assassins anyway.”

Dmitri couldn’t help but smile at her. “Your confidence in me is flattering, but Ivan doesn’t have proof that I’m alive. He only has suspicions. When I said that I left when I was eighteen, the truth was that I faked my death. Ivan doesn’t know what I look like. He hasn’t seen me since I was a teenager. He only suspects that the man parading around as Dmitri is the child that he raised.”

Charley gave him an astonished look. “Dmitri is not your given name?”

He ignored the question. He hadn’t uttered his real name in quite some time. “You’re too far in this. I can’t leave you alone, but I can’t protect you forever. I have to end this.”

“So we’ll sneak into the house and figure out what’s going on.” She smiled bravely. “I’ll help you.”

“Ivan is back in town. He’s been visiting cities where I’ve completed jobs. He’s looking for proof that I’m Dmitri. I can’t just waltz into his house. I’m good, but Ivan taught me everything that I know,” he said wryly.

Charley swept her hair to the side and gave him a demure look. “Then I’ll distract him.”

Dmitri swallowed hard. Did she have any idea how sexy she looked right now? “And how do you plan on doing that?”

“Do you think Daphne saw you at the house when you tried to rescue me?”

Dmitri shook his head. “I know she didn’t.”

“Fine. Then I’ll just waltz up to the house and let him interview me. While he’s talking to me, you can search the house for whatever you need.”

“And if he doesn’t let you walk out of the house alive?” Dmitri asked as he gave her a hardened look.

“Insurance. I’ll tell him that my friend is going to call the authorities if I don’t return by a certain hour. He’ll probably try to kill me later, but I doubt he’ll take the risk that night.”

He pursed his lips and stared at her. It was a dangerous plan, but a good one. Ivan still had no idea that he and Charley were together. He might suspect something, but he wouldn’t risk killing her. “You watch too much television,” he said sourly.

“We need to work on your social skills. What you should have done was congratulate me on coming up with such a good plan. Instead, you fall back on insults. It’s rather irritating.”

“We’ll need something for you to wear.”

“Something sexy like spies wear?” she asked with a delighted smile.

He groaned inwardly as she pushed herself off the counter. The move pushed her breasts out, and they bounced as she landed.

She was going to be the death of him.

Chapter Six

Despite her eagerness to get things started, Dmitri made her wait until after her wound had started to close. He spent the next few days away from the hotel room, and she paced in frustration. There was no word from Veronika, and Dmitri barely spoke to her when he did come back.

He seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts, but she caught the way he glanced at her when he didn’t think she was looking. She saw the way his eyes darkened with lust. He wanted her.

All he had to do was say the word, and she’d gladly spend the night with him. She was desperate to relieve some of the built-up tension and frustration inside her.

Early one evening, she slowly unwrapped the bandage and stared at the scab that had started to form down her arm. If it scarred, she’d have to live with it for the rest of her life.

Dmitri walked in with a bag and tossed it on the bed. “You will do everything that I tell you. If you so much as think of deviating from the plan, he will probably kill you. Do you understand?”

Charley stared at him. “Tonight?” she whispered.

“He’s having guests at his place tonight for a dinner. Some of them will be dangerous, but a few will be politicians who won’t want to be around any violence. It’s our best chance to get in and out.”

Her heart pounded with excitement as she glanced in the bag. It wasn’t a long evening gown like she had hoped. Frowning, she recognized the outfit as her own. “Really?” she asked as she gave him a disappointed look.

He shrugged. “If you walked in with something that you couldn’t possibly afford, he would know it. That outfit is sexy enough to keep his attention, and that’s all we want.”

Sitting her down, he went over the plan. And then he went over it again and again until she could recite it by heart. When he seemed satisfied, he left her to get dressed.

An hour later, she was driving a rental car to the house. Her whole body was a bundle of fear and adrenaline as she pulled up to the gates. An intercom buzzed as the guard asked her for her identity.

“My name is Charley Barns. I’m here to see Ivan Bobrov,” she said quietly.

“You are not on the list. I’m afraid you’ll have to come back,” the security guard said automatically.

“I don’t care about your damn list,” she snapped. “I’m here to talk about the assassin Dmitri, and I assure you, if you turn me away, your boss is going to be pissed.”

After a few minutes, the gates creaked open. Taking a deep breath, she made her way up the drive and saw four armed men waiting for her. She got out uneasily and tossed one of them the keys. “Are you a valet?” she asked as he grabbed them without ever breaking eye contact.

Impressive.

“You will come with us,” one of them said as he reached forward to take her arm.

“Hey,” she said as she held her hands up. “I came here on my own. Don’t manhandle me.”

He nodded sharply, and she followed them inside. Sounds of clinking glasses and laughter wafted from the center of the house, but she was directed to take a sharp left. As she stumbled into the darker room, the doors shut behind her.

“Search her.”

As a single lamp came on, rough hands ran over her body. She struggled not to scream as Ivan Bobrov came into view. He was intimidating, to say the least. Towering over her, he had the look of a man who saw violence every day and never thought twice about it.

It was the same look that Dmitri had.

“Miss Barns. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked as he seated himself on the chair. The man touching her pulled out her cellphone. She thought about protesting, but he quickly pocketed it. Satisfied that she wasn’t armed, he stepped away.

“I hear you’ve been looking for me,” she said nervously. Although he was old enough to be her father, Ivan raked his eyes over her as though she wasn’t even wearing the shimmery tank top. Her mouth dried out quickly.

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