She nodded, biting her lip. Given the way girls spoke to one another, I knew Hugo would know about the pregnancy scare by the time I returned from dealing with Pavel. "I should go, Princesa," I said carefully. She turned to me as I approached, tilting her head up to accept my kiss. "Call me if you need anything or if you aren't feeling well," I said vaguely, trying to convey the message that if her side effects became too much, I would step in to help her through them.
Or call a doctor to help her with the discomfort.
She sighed against me. "Okay, Rafael," she said, clinging to my suit. It was the only physical sign she gave of her unhappiness with my leaving her, and I took it for what it was. Isa wasn't a verbal communicator, and she probably never would be.
But her body told me no lies, only ever showing me the truth of her feelings for me.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," I told her, running my nose up the side of hers.
"You promise?" she asked, and the weakness to her voice almost compelled me to stay. It was as if she went through every moment of every day waiting for me to discover that she wasn't worth my time.
"I promise," I murmured, kissing her one last time before I spun on my heel and left her to Hugo's protection, to talk through her feelings with her friends. I could only hope Chloe would encourage her alongside Hugo, not serve as a deterrent to prevent her from giving herself over to her emotional connection to me.
I would hate to have to get rid of her blond friend if she got in my way.
* * *
The address where I'd chosen to meet with Pavel wasn't one of my finer moments. In the moments following the agreement to meet with him, I'd almost instantly regretted the choice. But it was one of my more frequented sites to do business in Ibiza.
My business associates tended to be distracted by the strippers who twirled on the pole. The finest women in Ibiza served me well, allowing me to negotiate deals that were more favorable to me than they might have been otherwise.
I owned the city, and I would never be forced to operate in the shadows as many others had to do within theirs.
My men were already inside the club when I arrived, guarding the women who danced on stage despite the limited audience. Far too early in the day for the club to be open officially, the girls working during these hours of the day were among my more trusted. The women who knew the score, could keep their mouths shut, and knew the types of men who walked into the club for my meetings wouldn't be gentle.
But I'd pay them well for volunteering for the hazard of the job.
My lead bouncer threw open the front doors as I strolled up to them, shifting my pace to an easy saunter the moment all eyes in the room fell on me. I moved through the room without sparing a glance for the men I knew would be in position should the meeting turn particularly sour, and I knew this one would. Pavel remained in his chair, glaring at the girl dancing on the stage as if he didn't sense my entrance. His fury only grew when she turned her eyes to me, smiling as she wound her body around the pole.
I ignored her, sitting at the table with Pavel with my back to her. All my girls knew the score. They weren't there for my entertainment.
"You're late," Pavel said, stubbing out his cigar into the ashtray on the table.
My response came easy, "You're lucky I'm here at all."
"I never thought I would see the day when the almighty Rafael Ibarra was caught in the trap between a woman's thighs," he scoffed. "Just because you have a pretty face does not mean she's capable of loving such a monster."
"You're so concerned with the woman. I should think you have far more important issues to address with your time, Pavel. Let me assure you, the time I’ll allow you to waste is very limited." I tapped my fingers on the table as I leaned in.
He sighed his frustration at my unwillingness to make small talk before diving into the subject he’d been so desperate to discuss. "This universal alliance. I will acquiesce to most of Bellandi’s terms, but I cannot agree to the terms of trafficking. He must know this is how most of my money is made. Russian women are the standard of perfection," he argued. "I could find you one to keep. She'd be much less bothersome than this American of yours."
My fingers itched for my gun as I sneered at him in warning. "I am uncertain what makes you think Bellandi concerns himself with Europe, but I promise you, this is not Bellandi’s crusade."
"Yours?" Pavel asked, sitting back in his chair. He scoffed. "Your time with those soft-hearted Americans has weakened you. If only your father could see you now, boy."
"He can't, because I tied him to a post while he screamed and set the platform beneath him on fire. Your friendship with my father ended with his death. It will not gain you favor with me," I said, inspecting my nails. "To be frank, I'm confused by your concern over the terms of the contract. You were not invited."
His face paled for a moment before turning red in his anger. "You intend to establish an alliance of this magnitude without Russia?" he scoffed in laughter. "Good luck."
"No. I intend to establish this alliance withoutyou. Once you're out of the picture, the person I help rise to power in your absence will be someone who is agreeable to my terms."
He moved quickly, drawing his weapon and pointing it at me as his men moved to follow. "You think to threaten me?" he asked.
I stood from my chair, flipping the table to its side with a quick sweep as I stepped into his space. His gun touched my chest, the room waiting as they held their breath. His men pointed guns at my men, and mine returned the favor. But Pavel knew as well as I did that no one would walk out of the room alive once the first shot was fired.
Moving quickly, I grabbed the barrel of his gun with my left hand at the same time I thrust my right hand into the inside of his wrist. With the force of both hands, the gun turned on him as I pried it from his hands. He stood, raising both of his hands as his cowardice showed. It was easy to have a sense of false bravado when you had a gun in your hand.
The moment he opened his mouth to speak, I struck forward with an open palm. Catching the blow on the bottom of his chin, his head snapped back suddenly. He fell to the floor, as close to dead weight as he could get without actually being dead, as he blacked out and hit the ground with a thump.
His men hesitated, not wanting to sacrifice their lives if Pavel was already gone. Leaning over him, I slapped him across the face until he woke up. "I don't need to kill you today to know you're a dead man, Pavel," I growled, straightening to my full height. I brought my foot down on his kneecap sharply, his scream of pain as it crushed beneath my shoe soothing the edges of my anger and the frustration that I couldn’t kill him then and there. Going back to Isa with a bullet hole after the inevitable shootout would be difficult to explain. I turned my back on him and made my way for the door.
He'd signed his warrant in blood the day he threatened Isa.
All that was left was to slowly carry out the sentence.