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No wonder Vladimir Kozlov was concerned about Volkov. What I’d yet to determine was whether Alexei knew about his father’s interesting affiliation. Perhaps the lure of hiring me had been because it was an impossible situation requiring someone with expert knowledge of several countries, speaking various languages and capable of hiding in the shadows. I should take it as a compliment and perhaps would have if my rage wasn’t hiding just under the surface.
I closed my eyes briefly, savoring a vision of Emily’s voluptuous body writhing underneath me. What I did know for certain is that she was the real pawn in all of this. I’d been played with regard to the woman. A true weakness.
She was barely twenty feet away, yet it felt as if there was an entire ocean between us. She’d all but shut down after releasing the cub, wiping her own tears away because I didn’t have the damn strength to do it for her. Now, almost a full day later and she’d remained locked in her own sadness, haunted by memories that she refused to share. Why the hell would she?
She’d insisted that she would help me. She had no idea what an undertaking she’d asked for. I laughed to myself, unable to keep my eyes off her. I’d never allow her to experience the horrors behind my life. If being unable to save a child had nearly destroyed her, then detailing a single brutal event I’d seen or suffered would force her to accept the world was a bad place.
I couldn’t do that to her. She was too precious, too… important to me.
Damn it.
“Would you fucking sit your ass down?” Diego hissed.
“I don’t need a lecture, Diego.”
“No, you need a damn kick in the head.”
I snapped my hand around the back of the chair, lowering my head and snarling.
“Do you think you scare me, Kostya? I’ve been around you too long. I know exactly what’s wrong with you.” He tossed his head in Emily’s direction.
After jerking away, I headed for the bar. I’d resisted taking a drop of alcohol up to this point, a clear head needed for what had to be handled, but right now I didn’t care. “Meaning what?”
We’d had this conversation one too many times. I knew her presence had disrupted my thinking, every control mechanism, but she was a part of my world now whether she liked it or not.
“There are too many coincidences.”
He didn’t need to explain. I’d acted on a tip with regard to Eddie without knowing about Emily’s existence. The truth was I’d allowed myself to be played in a game much bigger than anything to do with my identity. “I’m already aware. First, we plug the leaks. All of them.”
I’d sent a cargo plane full of soldiers to New York ahead of the small Learjet, already instructing them to set up a temporary base of operations. They’d been trained to be discreet, self-sufficient, and nearly invisible. They would also provide the force necessary should things turn south.
Diego was out of his chair in two seconds, heading toward the bar, glancing over his shoulder toward where Emily sat. “Do not tell me you’re planning on eliminating one or more of the Kozlov family.”
“Not unless absolutely necessary.” He’d been as skeptical as me after hearing what Ovachov had to say, including about my lineage. We’d even laughed about it until he’d verified the authenticity of the birth certificate. However, that didn’t mean I was that child. There were plenty of methods to alter every piece of documentation.
“You’re fucking losing it.”
I gulped a third of the drink before answering. “I have no loyalties to the Bratva or to anyone. That’s the nature of my business.”
“You want to start a war between two Russian organizations. Maybe throw in a little Cosa Nostra as well.”
“Not my intentions, but I refuse to be played.”
“Fine. Then don’t be. You’re putting your life and that of the woman you’ve obviously fallen in love with.”
I closed the distance between us, trying to keep my voice low even though another wave of fury rolled through me. “You’ve been crossing far too many lines lately, Diego. Remember who you work for.”
“You really don’t see it, do you?” Diego shook his head, looking away. “You’re in love with her. You’ve changed, my friend. More than I thought possible. And don’t you dare try and tell me she means nothing to you.”
“Like you’re some expert.”
“No,” he said as he grabbed a glass, yanking the bottle of bourbon out of my hand. “You made certain of that. Remember?”
When he slowly lifted his head, for the first time I noticed how haunted he seemed.
“You fucking allowed her to die. She meant the world to me. You refused to go back for her. Do you know what that brutal son of a bitch did to her?” His words were acrid.
Nine years before. Nine long years had passed since he’d mentioned the woman that he’d fallen head over fucking heels in love with during an assignment. It had left physical as well as mental and emotional scars on both of us, more so for Diego. The savagery in the Middle East rivaled anything the Russians had done to me or thousands of others during conflicts, warzones that had stripped both people and land of anything valuable.
