“What will you have?” he asked as I drew near.
“Irish whiskey,” I said.
“No vodka? This is Russia,” said Viktor, pouring my glass and passing it to me.
“I’m here for three weeks. I’ll have plenty of time for vodka,” I said.
“An Italian and a Russian walk into a bar,” Viktor said.
“And what?”
He considered me, his face thoughtful. “Kill the king, I suppose.”
I clinked my glass against his. “I’ll drink to it.”
“No, let’s drink to peace,” he said. “To a bond between family. After all, I’ll wed your cousin before next year is out.”
“To family then,” I said.
Viktor was a strange man and I always struggled not to let my guard down too much around him. He was only ten years my senior, but there was something paternal about his angular face and sharp eyes. Perhaps it was the way he filled every room with his calm, controlled energy.
He valued politeness, tradition, and culture more than anyone I knew. Yes, I had seen him slit a man’s throat without a muscle moving in his face, and yes, he was a brutal godfather and a trained killer, but he was also charming and, without meaning to, I trusted him.
“How is your wife?” he said.
“She’s alright, I just gave her a mild sleeping pill,” I said.
Viktor moved to sit on the couch before the fire, crossing his legs neatly. I sat opposite him, the heat from the fireplace seeping into my bones and chasing the cold away. I’d expected Russia to be cold, but not like the brutally icy chill that had enveloped me the moment I’d stepped from the car.
“You know Romano best,” Viktor said. “Tell, me what’s your plan?”
“We spend the next three weeks planning everything out carefully while I’m here. Then during the Romano’s New Year’s Eve party, one of my men will break into the security system, shut it down, and that allows me to get Romano away from the party and kill him. You and your men will surround the house to provide firepower should we need it.”
“And then what? Your men rally around you?”
“Once the capo and his son are dead, I’m next in line,” I said.
“And they will respect you after killing your own godfather?”
“Romano isn’t well liked,” I said, remembering what Olivia had told me, what he’d done to her in the garden. “He’s cruel to the men, terrorizes the women. I’m not the only man he’s tortured. There will be no love lost between him and his men. And if it comes down to it, we’ll use force.”
Viktor considered me for a long moment. “He did more than just torture you, didn’t he?”
I took a sip of my drink, gazing into the fire. “He touched her.”
“Well, that can’t stand,” Viktor said quietly.
“No, it can’t.”
There was a long silence where the only sound was the crackling from the fireplace. Then Viktor released a sigh and changed the subject abruptly. We talked of nothing and everything for the next hour and then I excused myself and returned to the Starlight Room. Viktor realized I was eager to get back to my wife and he let me go without complaint.
She was awake when I returned, sitting up in bed with her arms wrapped around her torso. When she saw me, a wave of relief passed over her face and her hands fell away, revealing her breasts. My eyes gravitated to them at once and she blushed, tugging the blankets up.
Without speaking, I stripped and slid beneath the covers and gathered her body against me. My dick hardened as her perfect ass rubbed up against it and a bolt of desire went through me. Suddenly, I was wide awake and painfully aware of her warm body against mine and the sweet, flowery scent of her hair.
“How did I sleep through the whole trip?” she whispered.
“I gave you a mild sedative. I’m sorry, but Viktor insisted you not know the location of his house,” I said.