Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4) (17 page)

“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.

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.”