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“She’ll have to stay with me so I can protect her. You'll be providing security.”
George nodded.
“If anything happens to her…” I exhaled, trying to get control over myself. “I knew it was a mistake to help her. I knew she was trouble the minute I laid eyes on her again.”
George shrugged. “Then let him do what he wants with her if you feel she is too much trouble. He takes care of problem for you.”
I said nothing. There was no way I would abandon Celia.
“You can still call off operation," George said softly.
I shook my head even more firmly. I couldn’t respond, so I just picked up my weapon and waited for the signal that my crew had arrived.
Once they had, all my thoughts turned to executing the operation. I exited the vehicle, grabbed my weapon, and in full battle rattle, I signalled to my men to take up pre-determined positions around the four-block-wide perimeter surrounding the warehouse before moving in on my signal. One had already scoped out the area, checking for sentries, and had let us know where the men were located.
We moved in, knocking out the guard inside the warehouse so I could slip inside and check out what was happening before I ordered the team in.
The warehouse was filled floor to ceiling with row upon row of furniture—couches, chairs, tables, and beds. I entered the kitchen and two of my men followed, holding their guns up, urging the cooks and prep people to be quiet.
I went through the building to the restaurant and saw Celia sitting with Ivan. Her face was pale and she looked so fragile. It made my once-ice-cold blood almost boil. Ivan had gone too fucking far. Undaunted by my presence, Ivan pulled out a switchblade and proceeded to clean his nails with it. That was a clear signal that he would harm Celia if he and I didn’t come to some agreement.
By all rights, I should have let Ivan do whatever he wanted with Celia. By rescuing her, I was reinforcing how important she was to me. I had to go over the top, send a message that could not be mistaken.
Mess with me and you will suffer.
My response had to be all out of proportion. I had to turn it into a matter of pure dominance.
You harm my possessions, you will pay.
Big time.
Standing on the top of the heap invited every jerk with ambition to try to climb up and knock you off. I understood I had to show Stepan and Victor that I would not allow even a single step up on the edges of the heap.
When I stepped into the dining room, Ivan stood up and held out his palms. Celia stood as well, her face pale, but her eyes told me she was relieved to see me.
"Slow," Ivan said and held out his hand. "There is no need for weapons. I'm merely returning your property."
I moved closer, my gun now held down at my side. I went to Celia and ran my thumb over her cheek where she must have hit her head in the crash. A bruise was starting, the tissue red and abraded.
"Are you okay? Do you need to go to the ER?"
She shook her head and stepped back, glancing at Ivan, who was smiling.
Ivan nodded. "You see what I mean, pretty girl?"
"You're wrong."
"You're wrong, what?" I asked, but Celia didn’t reply. She kept staring at me, her gaze intense. Finally, I turned to Ivan, and pointed the gun at his head.
"Stop!" Celia said and tried to grab my arm. "He didn't hurt me."
I said and did nothing, but kept my gun pointed at Ivan.
"If you or any of your Russian thugs are ever within one hundred feet of her, I'll kill you."
I lowered my gun and grabbed her arm. On his part, Ivan smiled like he found my threat amusing.
"Just trying to do a good deed," Ivan said, chuckling. "What thanks do I get? A gun pointed at my head…"
