Chapter 2

"Do you want us to take care of the cops boss?"

Vlad remained silent for a moment, contemplating his next move, before answering Boris' question. It would be safer to have the woman detective killed, rather than let her continue on her current path. He had been somewhat curious about the cop that had been sniffing around his business for months. She hadn't posed a real threat before now, thus he had mostly ignored her investigation. He sensed in her an inherent goodness, which combined with the stubbornness of a bloodhound, would eventually lead her to the truth about him. Ordinarily he would offer a bribe at this point or find some blackmail material on the person that was annoying him. He knew with the certainty of a man well used to judging people at a single glance that neither would work on McKinley. She would be as her appearance suggested, untouchable. He pictured the slight curl of her beautiful lips at the suggestion of a bribe.

That left the only other option he would normally consider, dispose of the problem. But the image of her small, curvy body posed lifelessly didn't sit well with him. He was not known for his finer emotions, except where his sister was concerned, but Vlad was not surprised that he didn't want Detective McKinley dead. Something about the woman had called to him from the moment he felt her eyes on him through the one-way glass. He would have to find a creative solution to the problem she currently posed, one that would free him to pursue this intense lust he felt for the gorgeous cop.

"I will take care of the woman, Boris." Vlad relaxed into the back seat of the luxury SUV and let his eyes wander to the passing city streets. His streets. "You take care of the other."

"Of course."

Boris did not point out that it was highly unusual for the boss to get his hands dirty with the police, even if he was thinking it. The less contact Vlad had with law enforcement the better. But he would not to speak out of turn. He rather enjoyed keeping his tongue in his mouth. And though Sitnikov didn't often get his hands dirty these days, Boris knew better than to think the boss had gotten rusty. Dennis Yankovich would have attested to that if he still had a tongue to tell tales with.

"No blood. Understood?" Vlad said sharply. "It will not do to go to war with them."

"Understood boss."

Vlad cracked his knuckles and contemplated the hidden curves of the policewoman underneath her shapeless clothes. One day soon those curves would be revealed to him. His deadly eyes flickered as he thought of all the ways he could bring that stubborn spirit of hers to heel. He hoped that she would fight him, it would make the chase more interesting. Perhaps he would visit her again, make sure he wasn't imagining the intense attraction that had sizzled between them in the dimly lit interrogation room.

"We have a message from Russia," Boris grumbled from the front seat.

Vlad's sharp mind instantly switched gears. Business had been good for him in America. The Bratva rarely interfered. "What is it?"

"Petrov sends his regards," Boris replied, his voice tense. Vlad didn't speak, knowing there would be more. "And he will send his youngest son to ensure the friendship is strong. He wishes you to host the boy in your city."

Vlad tensed. Petrov had been his mentor and later, when Vlad had outgrown his role as deadly enforcer to the mobster, his business rival and friend. Why would he send his spawn to a city that belonged to Sitnikov? It seemed foolish, yet somehow calculated. "When does he arrive?"

"He will arrive after the New Year."

Vlad had a few months to discover what Petrov wanted in his city before deciding if he would take the young man under his wing or mail him back to his homeland in pieces.