Page 44 of Lord of the Underworld

One day, I think. The nightmares will be gone forever.

Stepan is lounging in her seat when I return to the main cabin. "Look at you," he says teasingly. "So solicitous. You're going to make a fine husband."

Ignoring him, I pick up my iPad again, going over some of the schematics for the ghost guns that the engineers sent me today.

"How's the set-up going?" Stepan asks, leaning over to look at the schematics with me. "How close are you to production?"

"Less than a week," I say. "One of the industrial 3D printers has a wiring issue related to the increased power load."

"This is a genius addition to our weapons line," Stepan marvels.

"Untraceable, non-serialized," I say. "Our engineer's design requires only minimal metal components by strengthening the nylon-carbon fiber composites."

"Will you let me fly into Chicago and see it in action soon?" he asks. I glare at him and he laughs, undeterred. "Not now, while you're still in your honeymoon phase with Oksana. But eventually?"

"Eventually," I grudgingly agree.

"There's been some nudges from a couple of the families," he says, his teasing grin dropping. "They don't have the specifics about our production, but they know we have the technology and the manufacturing specs for the weapons."

"Who?" I ask.

"Kirill Volkov and Lukyan Kuznetsov," he says.

I know them both well. Lukyan is already Pakhan of the Kuznetsov Bratva, and Kirill is next in line for Pakhan of the Volkov empire when his father Viktor steps down.

Over the years, Lukyan has somehow wrangled me into an association with three of the other heirs in the Moscow Six. Along with Kirill, there's Andrei Balabanov, and Vladimir Bukharov. As next in line as Pakhan for the Vasiliev Bratva, Oksana's brother Nikolai should be in the group, but no one trusts him yet.

We meet a few times a year to discuss outside threats that could impact our families. I've found the majority of the meetings involve drinking heavily and eventually disbanding as everyone goes in search of female company. Still, some work is done.

"Volkov might be good," Stepan says thoughtfully. "I know we got those trading routes through Turkey with your marriage to Oksana, but Volkov's shipping line is the largest of any of the Six."

"No need," I say. "We'll see how production goes, and how many units we can sell before bringing in anyone else."

"Agreed," he says. "Let's not jinx this by being too confident, eh?"

We land long enough in New York to refuel and send Stepan on his way. Ignoring my stiffness, he gives me a brief hug. "Goodbye, brother. Call me if you need any tips on how to woo your new wife," he says, his infuriating grin back in place. "You've got the strong, silent vibe perfected, sure. But your seduction game? It is not strong."

I raise a brow at him. I've never needed game. Nor charm, or flattery. Often, not even words to get who I wanted. It was only sex. No kissing, they didn't touch me. Oksana will be different. When she touches me it's delicate, almost tentative. For the first time in fourteen years, I welcome it.

Waking her up before we land in Chicago takes an intense level of self-discipline. Oksana is curled up on the bed, the comforter tangled around her legs and her blonde hair flowing across the pillow. She looks so beautiful at rest, lips slightly parted, peaceful. The little worry line between her brows is gone. I want to crawl over her and wake her up with my tongue, the way I had the morning after our wedding.

"Mr. and Mrs. Turgenev?" Matvey interrupts my moment. "If I can ask you to return to your seats?"

Oksana wakes up instantly. "Oh! Of course." She wallows in the embrace of the clinging comforter for a moment before I help her get loose, escorting her back to her chair.

I should have told the goddamn pilot to circle Chicago for an hour while she was still asleep. Then, I'd have had the time to wake her properly.

"I recognize that traditionally, this would probably be a ridiculous question," she says, flushing a little. "But where do you live?"

We're blazing along I-94 in my Maserati, heading toward Lake Bluff and my home. I chose to drive us, feeling restless and wanting Oksana to myself. We still have two security chase cars following us, and one ahead. I don't take chances in an environment that I'm not completely familiar with.

"I keep a place downtown," I say. "But my home and the stables are in Lake Bluff."

She's instantly illuminated with happiness and twists in her seat to face me fully. "You live so close to me, I never knew! And stables, so you have horses, too?"

I glance at her before changing gears. Will she remember? When she sees the horses, will it shake anything loose?

"Yes. We can bring your mare there as well," I say.