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“Whoa. You’re in a surly mood,” Dimitre muttered, laughing afterwards. He knew my moods better than most. We’d become friends, although there’d been little time to do anything but work. The Kozlov family were harsh taskmasters, although I enjoyed the various tasks more than most.
“Actually,” I said, taking a cup of coffee and hissing from the taste. “I had a good night for a change.” Three weeks had gone by since the attack. Three fucking weeks. While my men’s extermination was the underlying cause of my sleepless nights, the barrage of gunfire in the confined space had brought out memories that I was best served not to think about.
“Meaning what?” He darted his gaze toward the bag I’d insisted be hung in the living room. While we didn’t rent the fleabag apartment to provide a statement to anyone, he considered my hobby overkill since I used my fists almost every day keeping the peace.
“Meaning, I had a late-night visitor.” I allowed myself to grin, my cock twitching as I thought about her again. Even after a scalding hot shower, her scent remained covering portions of my skin. I’d fucked her a third time before allowing her to leave, satisfied when she’d screamed out my name in passion. I would do it again, only I craved taking her virgin ass. The thought allowed another smile, vile and filthy thoughts better than bitter coffee as a wakeup mechanism. Maybe she’d be able to soothe the savage beast.
Or keep him on the edge.
“Really? The loneliest man on the face of his planet had a date?”
“Not a date. A happening.”
“You mean you had sex. You are glowing,” Dimitre chuckled.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His jokes usually fell flat on me but given my usual mood swings, I was already ready to clamp my hand around his throat. And we were buddies.
“A change of clothes. We have that important meeting today.” He snorted after reminding me. Neither one of us believed that it would do a damn bit of good.
“You meant you were sent here to make certain I didn’t forget about the meeting.”
He laughed, shaking his head.
Important. Storming into any union office was a bad idea in my opinion, but Alexei was determined to try to reason with the president of the sordid trade council. Out of any of the dozens of unions, they were almost as corrupt as the Bratva, but they were regaled by construction workers throughout New York. In my opinion, we needed to use force in order to help them understand we refused to accept their politics or their threats. They were fooling themselves if they didn’t think we’d retaliate at some point. They would not stop our construction projects.
It was also another method of garnering information about the attack.
“It’s bullshit and you know it.” I dumped the coffee, the bitter taste forming bile in my mouth.
“Yeah, well, Alexei is insistent. He’s trying to legalize our activities.”
I threw him a glare. “Do you really believe that?” Alexei was a cunning man, tossing out enough information to try to pacify members of law enforcement. I doubted he would ever completely legalize the family operation even after his father passed his ruling torch.
That is if Alexei’s older brother didn’t return from Russia to claim his rightful place.
Dimitre walked closer, a smirk on his face. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. We follow orders.”
He was well aware how much I hated following anyone’s rules, but I owed the Kozlov family my loyalty and that never wavered. Besides, men whose did disappeared. However, there was another more personal reason I’d stand beside the patriarch until the day I died. In addition, Alexei Kozlov always had a second plan, including how to handle Michael Walsh and the building and construction trade council if pushed. We would annihilate the executive board if necessary, although he remained just as hesitant as his father to demand blood flow in the streets.
Even if there wasn’t a single person inside the Bratva who didn’t hunger for retaliation.
“Yeah, we do. We need to find the snitch in our organization.” I studied him for a few seconds. Even though we were friends, as the head of security, he certainly knew of the plans and the location of the former warehouse. Shit. Maybe my guilt was getting in the way. Dimitre was another loyalist if for no other reason than the love of Vladimir’s daughter.
“Sevastian is in charge of fleshing out the asshole.”
Sevastian. The youngest brother was almost as brutal as I was. I sneered at the thought. He had a way about him that terrified even the most seasoned soldiers.
“So tell me about this girl,” he chortled.
I glared at him again. “Maybe a plant.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me? So, you added seduction to your repertoire? Not bad.”
“As I said, meeting her just happened. At this point, it’s a wait and see.” I rubbed my clenched jaw, still uncertain what the hell I wanted to do with the woman.
“And she’s still alive?”
As I leaned against the counter, I mulled over the question. “What do you know about the Walsh family?”
