“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s the men in my mother’s life who need to repent.” My father paid in the end—assassinated by Oleg, the same man who’d seduced his wife once upon a time. “What about you?” I ask. “Tell me about your family… before your uncle.”
She tenses in my arms. I know this is a difficult subject for her. How could it not be? She lost her entire family in a car crash. I’ve faced my fair share of devastation, but I can’t even fathom that kind of loss all at once. It makes me admire her even more than I already do.
Bianca clears her throat, her gaze landing on the thrill rides in the distance. “My dad was funny. He was kind of like the family jokester, the class clown. He always made us smile, lightened the mood wherever he went. But my mother was my best friend, really. She didn’t have my sister, Celeste, until I was nine years old, so it was just me and my parents for a long time. When Celeste was born, it was amazing, it was like I had my own little doll to take care of. God, I loved her so much.” She swallows the ball of emotion, and I bring her closer to me. “We lived a nice, normal life in Miami, and then it all went to hell.” She shakes her head like she’s trying to free herself of the flood of memories. “It’s just a painful history I’d rather leave in the past.”
“Okay,” I say, kissing her shoulder. I certainly understand the need to leave the past where it belongs. If not, it has the potential to haunt your every waking hour.
I run a hand over her ribs and down the flat of her stomach. “If you keep doing that…” she rasps before trailing off. Her gaze sparks black, and then the mood changes instantly even though we are outside in a very public area.
“That’s okay,” I say, nipping the flesh of her neck. “I’ve always wanted to fuck in public.”
“You dirty, dirty man,” she chides. “Do you want your men to see? Cause I count at least fifteen—and that’s without looking behind me.”
Fire shoots through my veins, and I lift her to a standing position. Reaching for the nape of her neck, I bring her against me, whispering into her ear, “I’m gonna do a lot more than fuck you. In private.”
Her answering gasp is all the invitation I need to drag her to the back seat of the Land Rover and pound her into oblivion.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
DANIIL
“Emilio wantsto use our shipping routes to start moving his product.”
My head whips up from my phone as I absorb Andrei’s words. It’s just Andrei, Yulian, Leo, and me in the cigar lounge we keep private for our own purposes. Mainly drinking, gambling, and talking shit.
Swiping my vodka off the bar, I shoot it down like vodka is meant to be consumed. Ice-cold and in one gulp. Whisky is for savoring, not vodka. Andrei is tracking me closely, reading my reaction to his announcement. I clear my throat and slam the shot glass down on the bar. “It’s too risky.”
Only our most-trusted associates have access to our shipping lines, which span throughout the globe. We’ve stayed out of street sales—and all the headaches and pressure that comes with it—by getting into the lucrative business of smuggling and transportation.
Unnerving silence falls as Andrei takes a cigar out of his pocket and cuts the tip off, lighting the Cohiba with slow, sure movements. I knew this day was coming, that the Zegas would want to exploit our connection, but I’d hoped for more time to figure out Jorge’s endgame. It’s clear he’s out for revenge, but what his version of revenge entails, I don’t know, and I’m not willing to sit around and find out.
“Why?” Andrei’s voice is smooth as silk, but lurking beneath, a hardened pakhan is out for blood. “Everything has gone smoothly at the casino with the Zegas has it not?”
My jaw ticks in annoyance, dread pressing down on my shoulders. I’m not ready to share with Andrei everything that has happened with Jorge, partly because he warned me to play nice, but also because I can’t sound the alarm until there’s something to report. And right now, I have nothing solid to go on. Just a bad feeling in the pit of my gut.
“It’s barely been a month. Cleaning their money on our turf is one thing, allowing them to use our ships to move their product gives them power over us. Are we ready for them to know exactly what ships we own, the ports we have deals with, the right hands to grease along the way? It’s fucking reckless.”
My brother’s eyes narrow as he releases a ring of smoke into the air. “Why is that?”
I sit up straighter, unease pressing down on my chest. “They’re not my family, and I don’t trust them yet. One wrong move, and we’ll have the DEA all over us.”
Yulian’s chuckle is low. “If we waited for you to trust the Zegas, we’d be shit out of luck. Unless we have a problem you’re not telling us about.”
A pulse flickers in my jaw. “You saw the shit he pulled at my wedding.”
“You mean daring to talk to Bianca?” Andrei takes a slow sip of his drink, unimpressed with my reasoning. “All I saw was how you overreacted… especially for a wife you claimed not to want.”
“When did I fucking say that?” I growl, even though I know it’s the truth. But fuck him for throwing it back in my face. Because my life would be a hell of a lot easier if I felt nothing for the chestnut-haired beauty with the crazy-ass dog running around my penthouse.
But that’s the problem. I feeleverythingfor her. It’s like she put a spell on me and I’m helpless to resist. I’m Daniil Kozlov, and I’m an addict.
Leo’s eyes meet mine over Andrei’s head, and he gives me a subtle shake of his head. “Drop it,” he’s telling me, “we’ll deal with this in our own way.” My younger brother and I have always had an understanding that not all our business must concern the whole brotherhood. Some things are better left to be dealt with by our own hand.
I can’t help but get in one more jab. “If I recall correctly, we walked into a derelict warehouse without backup or arms when Georgia was abducted based on nothing but blind trust. Call this a hunch, too.”
Andrei’s eyes soften at the corners, no doubt remembering how Leo and I were willing to do anything necessary to get Georgia back.
“We have an opportunity here,” he presses. “The feds have the US-Mexico border on lockdown these days, it gives the Zegas an advantage. They’re producing more powder than ever in Colombia since they don’t have to share as much of the market with the Mexicans. We have a fleet of empty container ships circling the coast of Urabá, ready to be loaded.” He drags a knuckle over his jaw, his gaze sharp despite a night of vodka shots. “And you’re telling me we shouldn’t move forward because you don’t like your in-laws?” A sour laugh peels from his lips as he stubs out his cigar.