Page 63 of Unholy Tsar

My arms tighten around her, and I have to make a conscious effort to relax. I’ll get that bastard soon enough. “And being back in California probably doesn’t help either, huh? Don’t worry. It will all be over soon, dushen’ka.”

She nods, then glances up at me with a small frown. “What does that mean? I swear, every time I understand the meaning of your pet names, you come up with a new one.”

Her voice is nearly back to normal, so I chuckle, glad to see she’s getting over her scare. For now, anyway. “You can just google it like you did with the others.”

She pouts, but her eyes twinkle.

“Come on, as tempting as you are naked, you need to get dressed so we can get out of here.” I reluctantly let her go and watch as she puts on her clothes.

“What about our luggage?” Cecilia asks as we get into the Range Rover waiting for us on the tarmac.

“My men will bring it.”

The ride to the hotel is short, and after a quick introduction to the manager, I lead Cecilia to my private elevator. Pressing the P for the penthouse, we ascend together.

“For some reason, I thought you’d take me to one of your homes instead of a hotel,” she remarks, her eyes lifting to meet mine with a hint of curiosity.

“Usually, I would’ve done just that, but the stakes are too high. Rest assured, though, I own this hotel. I chose it because the staff all work for me. They’ll be looking out for your safety, along with my men. The more eyes, the better. There are cameras everywhere, too. Everyone is on high alert. No one who doesn’t belong will be allowed in. You’ll be safe here.”

She nods just as the elevator doors slide open, revealing the penthouse’s lavish living area. Three ensuite bedrooms, a private kitchen, and a study are at our disposal—perfectly suited for our needs.

But as Cecilia gravitates to the wide, full-length window, I hesitate. I don’t blame her; it has a breathtaking view of the water, but I’d rather her stay hidden. “You’ll be safe here,” I repeat for my own benefit. It’s true. She’s safest here. This place is as tight as any military base.

I inhale deeply, grappling with the decision, before finally telling her I need to go. She immediately spins around, the view forgotten. “What?”

“It won’t be long until Trey hears that his location has been compromised. We need to strike before he has the chance to run away.”

So, no matter how badly I want to stay, I need to take care of business. For her.

A soft acceptance washes over Cecelia as she slinks toward me. “I understand. But please, promise me you’ll be careful out there.”

“I promise.”

After a long, passionate kiss goodbye, I get into the elevator and turn to face her one last time. “Your nightmare ends today, dushen’ka,”

Trey and his men didn’t see us coming.

Shit, with how dangerous Cecilia built him up to be in her head, I’m almost disappointed at how easy it is to take his operation down. Pathetically easy.

“How are you funding your activities? There’s no way you’re funding it yourself,” Dante repeats, chainsaw hovering above Trey’s right leg. His left leg is already nothing more than a bloody stump. We had to break it off after he refused to answer our questions. Fortunately, we brought along a doctor to help stem the blood loss and keep him alive.

I haven’t even gotten to the hell he’s going to pay for what he’s done to Cecilia.

Dante lowers the chainsaw. Trey whimpers.

“Wait! Wait!”

“Are you going to talk? Don’t waste our fucking time.”

“Okay, okay, listen. Fucking listen! I ran out of money a few years ago, and someone got in touch with us. A supplier who preferred to stay anonymous. He-he drafted a contract for us to bring drugs into the country, free of charge. In return, we only had to split the profits in two.”

Dante and I exchange worried glances. That sounds like the same supplier giving us trouble in New York.

“Ha, nice try. You expect me to believe that load of bullshit?” Dante bluffs, lowering the chainsaw another inch.

“That’s the truth, I swear! Last year, I even demanded a phone call with the supplier so I could confirm he was legit. Based on his accent and the approximate location my men were able to trace the call to, I-I have reason to believe he’s from Russia.”

Russia? My heart sinks as my thoughts fly back to my former home.