What continued to nag at me was the obvious. If she worked for Killian’s bar, the fuckers who owned the joint might have sent an innocent creature to check out what the hell Dimitre and I were doing residing just outside enemy territory. The Russians and the Irish had always had a beef, especially when the Pakhan, Vladimir Kozlov, had barreled into the country, taking over a good portion of land surrounding them. The Irish lived in several boroughs inside the city, but this one was by far the most populous, which allowed a decent observational post.
It was no mistake that Dimitre and I had been stationed at this apartment for a tentative duration of time. We were seeking information as well as retribution for the execution of my men, all trained assassins. The majority I’d trained myself to be the fixers of the Bratva, carrying out necessary exterminations in the dead of night, which prevented unnecessary bloodshed in the streets.
The attack had been unexpected. I continued to blame myself for the oversight. I’d spent years training to face any scenario when it came to eliminating our enemies. Gone were the days of simply going in with guns blazing. While war in the streets was always an option, the silent kills without witnesses had proven to be most successful.
All hand selected for their loyalty and brutality, my team’s skill had been unequaled by the Italians, the Armenians, or the Polish mob. Everything about the attack reeked of betrayal. Only the Italians had the ability to decimate the secure building housing our massive collection of weapons and other instruments. Yet there remained a tentative truce between us, peace that the city needed. My team and our company had been shrouded in secrecy, the location only known by the highest officials in the Bratva.
The attack had been well executed, leaving only two survivors and the building in flames. Members of law enforcement had arrived within minutes, a further indication whoever had planned the massacre had hedged their bets with calling them ahead of the assault.
That night had been nothing abnormal, the mission we were on simple in terms of the Bratva: the removal of three snitches in three different locations. We’d never had the opportunity. I’d finished the deed myself after the horrific event, taking out my anger on the bastards, but it hadn’t robbed me of the guilt.
The bastards responsible had hoped any survivors would be arrested for illegal arms charges or worse. Our only saving grace, if such a thing existed for the Bratva, was that we owned the law enforcement officers who’d been sent.
When four different informants had indicated the Irish were involved, that had made things dicey. There was no indication the attack had to do with the Irish mob, the group significantly smaller and less organized than the Kozlov Empire. That left us with the powerbrokers of the unions, people we called the Saints. They were powerful in a different way, controlling the unions and a good portion of politics.
While they weren’t immune to getting their hands dirty, an operation of that size indicated a much larger and more deadly plan was in the works.
It was my task to find out what the fuck that was.
Mistakes weren’t an option.
While getting this close to their territory wasn’t part of our typical duties, it could prove helpful. In addition to hunting down the motherfuckers who’d killed my men, we also needed to ascertain what plans certain members of the Irish clan had with regard to several construction projects that were ongoing. While we had had significant control over dozens of members of law enforcement, we hadn’t made a dent in the unions.
The fuckers controlled almost every aspect of the business, requiring every worker in the city to become a member or face consequences.
That was about to change.
The union leaders had no idea what kind of consequences they would face if they continued to cause problems.
I thought about how Candy had entered my life and exhaled. Women were used as pawns all the time. The act was popular in my home country. I was no fool and had never fallen for anything so egregious, which is why the timing bothered me.
While I doubted that she was being used given her real surprise when I’d answered the door, I’d keep it in the back of my mind. Or maybe that’s what I wanted to believe.
Not that it would matter. She was mine. That decision had already been made.
I’d wrapped my hand around her ponytail, dragging her head back after making the proclamation. Her reaction was exactly as I’d expected. She’d hissed at me, as if she had any choice in the matter. As soon as I ripped the red elastic band from her hair, she tossed her head, allowing the limited light in the room to add a luminescent hue to her long locks. Damn, the woman was beautiful, more so than she’d appeared in the scruffy blue coat and ridiculous Converse sneakers.
She had the kind of body men fantasized about, her hourglass figure built exactly as any red-blooded man would envision in his mind. I wanted to explore every inch, taking hours to learn all her nuances in order to make her moan from my touch alone. She held a vibrancy inside that ignited my passion. There was nothing worse than a meek woman pretending to be an innocent flower, waiting for a man to save her from the ravages of others.
This girl could fight. That much I’d already seen.
“Damn you,” she snarled.
“I’m already damned, printsessa.”
“Stop calling me that. I’ll never be your princess.”
“You’ll learn soon enough that there is nothing you can do to prevent it.”
What she knew about boxing had surprised me. Somehow, I knew I was in store for additional shocks along the way as I indulged in our combined pleasure. But first, the little fireball would need to accept that I controlled her. I inhaled her sweet aroma, my mouth watering at the sinful thought of driving my tongue past her swollen folds. The fact she was already wet pushed away any sanity. It was no use around her. She’d awakened a need that could never be shut down again.
As soon as I eased back, Candy attempted to crawl away from me again. “You’re a very naughty girl.”
“You have no idea, buster,” she snarled in return.
I allowed her to scramble away by several feet, grinning as I watched her, my balls tightening even more. She was a handful and then some. The rowdy bar wasn’t a fan of Russians, so visiting her at her place of work could prove to be toxic. Not that I gave a shit. She was now my woman, and I would frequent whatever establishment suited me.
“You really do need to start obeying me if we have any hope of getting along,” I said in an even gruffer voice than normal. I did enjoy toying with her, but my patience would wear out soon enough.