Chapter Thirteen

Milos

Walking away from Celia is the last fucking thing I want to do. But if Manuel is asking for me, then shit has hit the fan.

I take the phone from Danil. “What is it?”

“The truck was stopped at the weigh station ten miles south of St. Louis, the one both you and I are supposed to control. My man is saying the assholes are new. The usual men are not there,” Manuel states without inflection.

The man is as always ice. It’s moments like this I’m jealous of the psychopath for not feeling a thing like concern over losing a metric ton of cocaine. If it was lost the Rodriguez cartel would replace it, but that wouldn’t mean shit if it could be connected to me. All the shipments happened under shell companies that were created, lived for a few years, then died, and new ones were created in their place. This is the first shipment under this new shell company. Too much pressure applied and the shell could break apart.

“Names.”

He gives them to me. “Ten minutes,” I tell him as I hang up.

I tell Danil to get me to my office as I call Valdez. I know Valdez hates calls dealing with issues on the transportation of drugs. He has no problem with the movement of arms, but drugs are ones he would rather not deal with. Which means this will cost me twice his usual already expensive rate. It didn’t matter, the man was worth three times what he charged.

No surprise Valdez goes silent—I feel him thinking. I don’t press the man. He will make his decision on his own time. “Names.”

I give them to him.

“I’ll handle it. Give me seven. Consider it a wedding present.”

Before I can thank him he hangs up on me. I get out in front of my restaurant and head upstairs to my office, intent on waiting until it’s confirmed the shipment will continue to Chicago.

I reach my office and shut the door on Pavel, telling him I’m available to no one but my brothers, and wife. The word wife slides off my tongue the same way it had yesterday at the sight of Celia. She is my wife, my woman, my every fucking thing. I just wish I knew what was going on in her damn head.

In my chair my head goes back as my mind twists over what happened in the dressing room. I do not understand what is going on with Celia. Nothing she has done makes any sense except her saying yes.

The last thing I want to do is spank her delicious round ass. However, I can see more of it in the immediate future, and not just because I have a feeling despite my warning, she will push my limits again. But because of how wet it made her. Just like it did the first time, it surprised the fuck out of me the way virgin Celia responded to the spanking.

At this rate there is no way in hell I’m going to be able to wait for the thirty days until our wedding day. Especially with that lie she told about needing a doctor’s appointment. I make the call.

The usual nurse answers. “Yes, sir.”

“I need the doctor, now.”

“Yes, sir.” No argument.

In less than a minute the doctor answers. “Yes, Mr. Levin.”

“I need an appointment for my fiancée tomorrow. She thinks she’s going in for birth control. You aren’t going to give her that. The fertility shot we discussed, that’s what you’re going to give.”

Although she tries to hide her sigh, I hear it. “You’ll make the call?”

“As long as you keep doing exactly what I tell you, I will make the call every week. Then once my fiancée is pregnant I will make the final call,” I promise her. Keeping her husband safe in prison was easy enough. The final call, getting him out, would require more effort but would be done once the doctor completed her end of our bargain.

This time there is no hesitation. “Okay, looking at her cycle information, this is a perfect time for the shot. Your best window will be for seven to ten days after the day of the shot, which syncs with her most fertile time of the month. When would you like her to come in?”

“Noon.”

“I’ll schedule her.”

The shot combined with the pills Sergei has been feeding her for the last six months should guarantee a pregnancy in the next few months. Once she is pregnant, maybe this lingering fear that she’ll walk away from me will die.

What the hell is going with her? I might have let my need get away from me—touching her always fucks with my head. After so many years, now that I finally could touch her, I lost control. Yet how was she also not willing to give free rein to her own desires and need for me? Both things I saw clearly on her face, felt when I touched her. Yesterday everything seemed perfect, the end of pretending. Of going without her. Only nothing has gone the way I expected it.

***

Yesterday

“Nikita, we’ve discussed this. You will marry her and you’ll do it without being an asshole about it,” I growl at my little brother. I do not have the patience for this. Glancing at my watch, the time is crawling to the hour.

“How come you get to pick your bride?” Nikita throws his glass against the wall in frustration.

Aleksander is splashed by the vodka. Our eyes meet, he sighs. He is only ten months younger than me. We’ve been as close as twins since we were toddlers. Long ago words were not necessary for us to communicate. He exhales the smoke of his cigar. “Because he’s the fucking pakhan. Being born first has its rewards. He also happens to have a hard-on for an effective chess piece. You’re marrying to secure your own piece.”

“Fuck all, enough with this stratagems bullshit. You’re sending me to New York with Gregori’s family on my own. I should know every fucking thing happening.”

I begin. “As our uncle, Gregori’s offer to solidify family power by a marriage between us makes sense.”

“To a fucking cousin, we aren’t hillbillies, for fuck’s sake! And why the fuck are we entertaining solidifying power by marriage when we are more powerful?” Nikita stands to pour himself another drink as a maid comes scurrying in to clean his mess.

Laughing, Aleksander shakes his head. “She’s the adopted daughter of our cousin. They got her out of an orphanage in Mexico, you know that. God knows they never let the poor girl or anyone else forget it. It’s hardly inbreeding. Your children won’t come out with a tail.”

“Fuck you then, you marry her.” Throwing back the vodka, Nikita growls.

“If you throw that fucking glass, I’ll make you pick up every shard with your pretty face,” I warn him.

He grits his teeth. “The girl is too young. She’s also short, fat, and completely unremarkable. I want to pick my own bride.”

“Every women you have brought home has been unacceptable. They are bottle blondes with fake big tits, fake teeth, fake hair, fake everything. Your child would be more likely to come out with a tail from a woman whose body is made up of seventy-five percent plastic.” I roll my eyes.

“I know Grigori asked for it to be Aleksander. I’m aware I’m just the derzhatel obshchaka. Yes, I can do it there, but we’ll have to encrypt then encrypt times three, and even then there is no guarantee it will protect what I’ve done and need to do. Why are you sending me instead?”

I know he thinks he’s just the derzhatel obshchaka—the bookkeeper. I’ve tried making him understand the bookkeeper position in our organization is almost more important than my role, to no avail. He collects and launders our money so we appear clean and keeps track of every penny made and where it goes.

“Aleksander is not simply my number two, we are joined in our thoughts and intentions. Everyone knows I cannot do what I do without him. While he will never inherit—unless Celia gives me nothing but girls—Aleksander is fine with that. We know that—no one else does. Every once in a while when he’s drunk, he mumbles shit about forever being second to me. To see who we catch with the fly on the hook. It’s how we came to lose Ilya and Dima.”

Aleksander is up, refilling his vodka. “A few times Ivan and Artem have joked Grigori would love to have me, only it never came to anything. They never pressed it.”

“We know the reason Grigori stopped trafficking two years ago wasn’t so he could work with us as he said. It was because he kept losing shipments to the point they were able to connect several to him and he had the Feds, Interpol and about six different local governments on his ass. I said the reason we wouldn’t work with him was because he wasn’t giving concessions the way any other group we worked with did. Then we all just breathed a sigh of relief when he refused. You know how Grigori has been bitching loudly over the last year how unfair it was our grandfather gave Father Chicago and Philadelphia, and Grigori got New York?” I ask Nikita.

“Yeah, which doesn’t make any fucking sense. New York was by far the bigger money-maker. It’s the reason Grandfather gave Father two cities instead of the one. Grigori keeps saying it was because Father had so many children when it was bullshit. Until you began taking over, we made half of what Grigori and his sons make in New York. Now because of you, we make more here in Chicago alone than New York.” Nikita nods as he puts down his glass and finally begins paying attention.

“Exactly, his argument didn’t make sense, so I dug deep to find Grigori’s hemorrhaging money not just personally but professionally.”

“No surprise there. He’s always lived beyond his means even while Grandfather was alive. Once Grandfather died in the hit with Father, the leash was off,” Nikita mumbles.

I nod. “One of the benefits to getting out of trafficking was the ramp up on the borders. We were already losing more merchandise than we got in and the Feds were all over it. Grigori waiting as long as he did left him bare to the Feds and they are closing in. The money he’s paying isn’t enough to keep him safe and now he’s so broke he can’t even pay anymore. It’s why Ivan is taking over in name and you’re marrying his daughter.”

His confusion is clear. Aleksander sighs. “We think if I were the one to go they would turn me into one of them by foul means. Grigori offering me his granddaughter and me going out to New York makes no fucking sense. Marrying her and her coming to Chicago would, but it’s not the deal. So the thought is they would kill me to take away Milos’s second and his strength. If you go—”

“I’m bait? Are you fucking kidding me?” Nikita looks to me then Aleksander again.

From the open-line speaker Vasily begins laughing. “I told you two you should have told him sooner.”

“Fuck you,” I toss out at Vasily as I consider hanging up on his ass.

My other brothers Maxim and Damien can clearly be heard arguing that one of them should be the one to go. Vasily is pakhan of our Philadelphia operation, Maxim is his second—two spies—and Damien is their bookkeeper. While we didn’t like our family was divided by several states, we were united in that we spoke every week on a call such as this, and Vasily and I were in contact on an almost daily basis. Also in turns they would come to Chicago to stay in our family home to see our mother.

“Enough, you two women. This is the plan, we stick to it. With Nikita the youngest of us all, they will think he will be the easiest to break.” Vasily sighs.

“While not realizing it would be easier to break concrete with a spoon.” Aleksander swallows the last of his vodka.

Nikita preens at the compliment. While he didn’t have to kill or torture, he took a sometimes stomach-inducing pleasure in it that used to worry me and Aleksander. Until Nikita explained he felt bad he was the paper pusher. All he wanted was to feel as though he was pulling his weight, and yeah, he looked at it as a way of letting go of stress and anger.

Setting his empty glass of vodka on the table beside him, Aleksander shrugs. “I’m willing to go. But we think it would be better if it were you. We don’t think they’ll kill you or anyone but Milos or me—maybe Vasily since they’re going to try and take all of what we control. It would need to be done in tandem. If Milos or Vasily was killed, then we would know immediately something was wrong and our guard would go up. Once we send you in place of me, we’ll gain a greater picture of what their intentions are.”

“I have eyes on them. While I would rather wait until all this shit is settled before marrying Celia—I don’t need her as a target—this could take months, and I’m not willing to wait.” I check my watch again.

Glass explodes beside me without warning. I look up to find Aleksander grinning. “We can’t have that. You’ve waited four long years to take your bride in hand. If it goes any longer I will cut my own throat from putting up with your mournful stares out the window.”

“Or catching you listening to her recordings.” Nikita sighs. “I feel like I know her voice better than my own. It’s a nice voice though.”

“Fuck off,” I mutter.

“You’ll marry her fast and hide her behind the gates.” It’s an order from Vasily.

“Yes, brother,” I assure him. After losing his wife and their unborn daughter less than two years into their marriage, he’s never forgiven himself for not taking greater care to protect her. The reason why no one but Vasily has married in our family was due to Vasily’s loss. The fear of being the cause of a woman’s death weighed on us all. However, now that we’ll be fending off Grigori, along with the concern of the Feds taking a closer look at us because we have the same last name—it is my belief we’ll all become the model of boring and marry, very soon.

Once Vasily ends the call on his side, he’ll inform Maxim and Damien they need to select a bride within the month. Vasily has selected two daughters within the Italian mafia, a senator’s daughter, and a daughter of a Fortune 500 company we held a major stake in. Any one of the women would bring us greater power and standing in Philadelphia. I had asked Vasily if he could consider a marriage himself. His immediate refusal was not one I pressed. He loved his wife deeply and even now, almost sixteen years later, he held on to the pain of her death.

I return my attention to Nikita. “It’s another reason why I’m pushing for a quick marriage. Carlo will think it’s for children. Dom is the only one who knows the real reason. But he also believes it’s for locking the marriage agreement so I have support of the Outfit if we have to go to battle with Grigori and his sons.”

Nikita slams his glass on my desk. “If you had told me from the beginning I would not have bitched so much. It’s as Father said anyway: marriage is one thing, pleasure is another. I’ll marry her and bed her. Then I’ll find my mistress.”

I shrug. “As long as you are discreet.”

Aleksander nods.

“Discretion is key in all things,” Vasily agrees.

“Then it’s settled. You’ll stop bitching?” I ask as I stand. I don’t give a shit if I’ll be early, I can’t stand another minute of this discussion.

“Go on, settle the price of your bride.” Nikita nods.

Meeting Aleksander’s eyes, we agree. He’ll settle Nikita further and give him the complete plan for Grigori and his two sons.

Outside, Peter is waiting. He proceeds me to scout the area before opening the door for me.

“You have her new car and driver waiting.” It’s not a question.

Peter nods. “For now it will be Gleb and me as you commanded, with Pavel taking my place. I will say again, I do not like not being at your side.”

“If there is going to be an action against us it will not be directed at me, it will be at what I hold dear, which will be Celia. Even though I have spoken loudly that she is a convenience—a means to an end—if anyone thinks otherwise they will not hesitate to hurt her. Or better yet show I cannot protect what is mine. While I appreciate your thoughts, she is more important to me. Aleksander has already promised no matter what, if something happens to me she is protected within our family. I ask you to make the same promise.”

His sigh is loud. “She will not make anything easy.”

I cannot help chuckling. No, my Celia has never made anything easy.

Our eyes meet in the visor mirror. He nods. “I will protect her with my life the same as I would you.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Calm settles within me at his promise. I should be walking away from Celia. Putting as much space between us as possible for her safety, yet I cannot.

Four years and three months—one thousand five hundred and forty-seven days I have known Celia would be mine. I cannot, will not go another day leaving her in any doubt she is mine. With her graduation four days ago and her return to Chicago two days ago, it was more than I could stand.

I immediately went to Dominic Sabatini, who then brought me to his father Tony Sabatini to discuss my request to solidify my relationship with the Outfit. Dominic wanted to check with his father to see what he thought about my request and how Carlo would react. Dom was aware Carlo was more likely to be honest with Tony on Carlo’s feeling of me.

I am grateful neither man saw through my remark I would take either daughter, I was not picky. As I knew someone would, Luca was there for a visit and remarked Celia was the better pick over the selective mutism of her younger sister.

Tony believed Carlo would welcome the opportunity to link our families and deepen our tie. His one warning was be prepared to pay for the girl. We discussed what Carlo might ask for and what I was truly prepared to give up. Never letting on I would give my whole fucking kingdom for Celia. They decided what I was willing to trade would be more than fair, and to of course start low.

Closing my eyes, I exhale slowly working to calm myself. I cannot let Carlo know. There will have to be something left over to support my family, and if I appeared weak in any way, he would never accept anything less than all he wanted.

My hand goes up to the tattoo over my heart simply thinking of her. I am grateful Dominic Sabatini will be there to prevent me from killing Carlo. Even now I shudder at our meeting yesterday. The man was a vulture. He caught the scent the minute I sat down across from him. Letting him know I had heard he had two daughters and it was time I took a wife. I hoped it would be one of his daughters.

The man had actually rubbed his palms together with glee. As Dom and I discussed, I let him lead the conversation from there. I’d shared with Dom I would rather have the woman who would speak to me. Dom told me Carlo wouldn’t even put the younger daughter on the table with her “unique” personality. And Carlo hadn’t disappointed. He’d neglected to be honest about how much Celia loved cats, expounding on her beauty and her recent degree. She was intelligent, and while she had not lived with Carlo she knew our world, what was expected of her and she would come to heel.

All I could think was how little he knew his daughter. As Tony warned, Carlo jumped in requesting far more than he should have. I held him off with the truth of his request being too extensive. I would need to discuss it with my brothers. Then left him waiting for me to speak with Celia to confirm her acceptance.

I needed to hear her say it for herself. Before last year there would have been no doubt in my mind. Yet after the way I fucked up, then dug myself in even deeper by using Anna Kovalenko for the last few five months, Celia had stopped all thought of me. For the first time, listening to the recordings of my video surveillance of her didn’t soothe me. She never mentioned me again to her sister or my man, not even in the quiet of her room when she was all alone. Only a few times when she had nightmares did she whimper my name—but it didn’t count to me.

I was sure I would have to grovel and beg to get to her again. Until I received the invitation to her graduation. Then I knew she had not truly forgotten me. She never would—the same way I could not forget her. As badly as I fucked up, while Celia might not have forgiven me, she hadn’t and wouldn’t break our link.

Drawing up in front of Carlo’s home, I am glad to see I am only five minutes early. Too early might have tipped my hand.

After meeting briefly with Carlo, I am shown out to the back garden. While I long to pace, to stretch and untie the knots within me, I do not dare. Carlo can never know how much I want this.

***

The moment the door is closed behind her, Carlo is on me. “A month isn’t enough time for a wedding big enough.”

“I have the money to make it enough.” I walk past him into his office. Barely managing not to take a swing at him when I get within arm’s reach.

“A month is enough time. My wedding was done in half that. It will not be an issue.” Dom shrugs as he sits down across from me.

“You’re the one saying sheets must be presented, which is disgusting. However, I will allow the sheets to be presented if you agree to the month. Make me wait and there will be no sheets.” Italians and their ridiculous clinging to old-world customs. Then I sigh as I admit Russians are no better, simply in different ways.

“It’s too soon.” Carlo shakes his head, narrowing his eyes on me. “Why do you need a wife so fast?”

I meet Dom’s eyes across the room. His tell me to tell Carlo. The old man would need to know eventually. “I’m dealing with issues in my family. My uncle has Feds and other authorities circling him. With our names the same, and as our businesses were also tied together until I took over, I need to appear nothing more than a bland businessman. I’m already arranging marriages among my brothers as well.”

He shakes his head. “Keep talking.”

Giving in, I admit, “With him sinking, he wants me dead with the ridiculous idea he can take over my business here in Chicago and leave his problems behind in New York.”

His hand goes up. “Absolutely not. This is over. I didn’t spend twenty fucking years ensuring they hated me to keep them safe for you to come along—”

“Carlo.” It’s Celia’s mother, Cassandra. “We discussed this.” Standing at Carlo’s side, her hand goes down on his. “He will protect her. You cannot say no to him.”

“His brother’s wife died nineteen months into their marriage pregnant with their child. I’ll be damned if the same thing will happen to Celia or Carina.” Carlo shakes his head.

“How do you know of Vasily’s wife? What do you mean? Are you only pretending to be a fucker to them to keep them safe?”