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CHAPTER6

Kirill

Vladimir Kozlov wasn’t the kind of man to be fucked with, but over the years he’d softened to some degree, allowing his sons to handle a good portion of business operations. On this night, he sat in his giant leather chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

“The bastard is lucky I didn’t slit his throat,” Alexei stated, referring to the meeting with Walsh and the assholes who’d kept their smirks when we’d turned to leave.

“Your tolerance was necessary, Alexei, and you know it,” Vladimir huffed. “Until we know what we’re dealing with, we’re not starting a war. However, it is important to find out who attacked us. I believe Kirill had that under control.” He shifted his gaze in my direction, studying me intently.

His accent was as thick as mine, a direct contrast to all but one of his children who’d been born in the States after Vladimir had escaped the tyranny of daily blood-lettings that Russia had succumbed to. He’d had one child in tow, another on the way, but he’d swept me off the streets after my family had been slaughtered in a crossfire.

To this day, I had no understanding of why he’d taken a kid he’d barely known as another dead weight, forced to walk several miles before catching a train. My loyalty to him was without question. I’d become another son to him, which I knew had eventually irritated the oldest brother, Viktor. He’d returned to Russia to handle certain business operations without hesitation. That put his life in extreme danger, but he was determined to regain some of our lost power in the country after Vladimir’s departure.

“Understood, but the new development is disconcerting. The casino will provide additional legal revenue.” Alexei lifted a single eyebrow as he tipped his head toward me.

I’d told him about stopping by Killian’s, finding one of the bastards from our meeting with Walsh inside. While I’d been unable to tell whether there was a direct connection to Candy, there were too many circumstances regarding the last twenty-four hours, which remained troublesome.

Vladimir knew when I was irritated, the look of amusement on his face highlighting the indication he sensed I was fuming. “Tell me about the woman.”

“There’s nothing to tell. She lives downstairs. She works at Killian’s.” My words seemed hollow, stark. I was pissed Alexei had relayed the news before I’d had the chance, but blood was thicker than loyalty of service.

“Does she have a last name?” he asked, swirling his index finger around in circle after circle. Vladimir was a brutal man, including to his sons. While he’d never been violent with me directly, he refused to take incompetence on any level. I’d realized only after I was in my twenties that he’d become a role model. I’d learned to be ruthless, unforgiving to anyone.

“If you’re asking if she’s a Walsh, you already know the answer, but she’s an external relative,” I answered carefully.

Now Alexei seemed amused at my choice of words and my terse tone, laughing softly as if I’d told a joke for the first time in my life.

“Then who is she?” Alexei asked. I’d grown up with Alexei and his older brother, educated at the same schools, provided with everything I needed to become a man. However, I’d never be blood, no matter how Vladimir treated me and there were times Alexei never let me forget it. “It’s no coincidence the son of a bitch standing with Walsh was in that bar, Kirill.”

I knew better than most there was no such thing as coincidences. “If I had to guess, I’d say he was in Killian’s looking for Rian Walsh.”

“Rian Walsh. I heard Daddy Walsh has been pushing his youngest son into following in his footsteps. We need to watch the kid,” Vladimir said, grousing under his breath.

“The girl is nobody,” I said in a gruff voice. “Just a girl living and working in New York. However, I’ll find out if she knows anything.”

“Good,” Vladimir said almost in passing, which continued to piss off his son. “I agree with you, Alexei. This construction project must be completed on time and without continuous issues. Maybe your… connection will be of use, Kirill.”

Connection. The correct term was possession. Seeing her pawed over by other men had shoved that fact into my face. I’d wanted nothing more than to break the necks of every asshole who’d dared take a second look. Especially the assholes she’d been serving. They’d watched me the entire time I was there, one in particular never taking his eyes off me. A part of me regretted I hadn’t stayed, waiting until the asshole had left for the night.

“Are you seeing her tonight?” Alexei’s question made me snort.

“We aren’t dating, my friend; however, I’m heading for her apartment.” While I had no intention of providing my agenda to him, I definitely had plans for her, the kind that would take me all night long to handle. I kept the smirk on my face as I glanced toward Vladimir. He seemed to approve of my methods.

“Just make certain whatever you discover is the truth. You know how the Irish lie.” His statement was met with laughter between the two men.

There wasn’t a soul on Earth who didn’t lie if it suited them. I had a knack for knowing when that happened. Men. Women. It didn’t matter. I always knew. And it handled the situation appropriately. Candy would be no different.

I would peel away her layers, exposing every piece of what made her tick. She’d soon learn that bedding a monster had both consequences as well provided her with everything she desired.

As I turned to leave, Vladimir cleared his throat. “Stay for a minute, Kirill.”

Alexei grinned as he walked by, patting me on the shoulder. Very few people got a one on one with Vladimir and when they did, it usually wasn’t a pleasant experience.

The powerful patriarch waited until his son had walked out, closing the door behind him before standing. I towered over the man, but that didn’t make his stature any less formidable.

“You know you’re like a son to me.”

“I know, Pakhan.” While I rarely used the term, I thought it in my best interest.


Tags: Piper Stone Romance