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My father’s assassination two years ago turned my life upside down. I could no longer be the idle party prince of the Kozlov family, spending months traveling, living the high life, bouncing from yachts to private islands. Like my brothers, I was forced to step up virtually overnight to run the Kozlov Bratva. Under Andrei’s leadership, our brotherhood is now more powerful than ever and our business is expanding, so with that, my responsibilities have grown as well.
But I’m restless for something more, I just don’t know what that is. At thirty-one, I’m too young to be having a midlife crisis, aren’t I?
Laughter from the party filters towards me, and a glance in the direction of the terrace’s double doors confirms I’m no longer alone out here. I remain bathed in the shadows, my Cohiba long snuffed out. The Madman and his date step out onto the stone terrace. Before I can make my presence known, I’m startled by the sound of a vicious slap.
My head whips up to see the young woman holding her cheek, tears filling her eyes as the asshole advances on her. “You fucking bitch. You know how important tonight is to me. Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut? Of all people, you insult the fucking mayor.”
She releases a heaving breath. Dropping her hand from her face, a red mark blooms on her cheek from where he struck her. It takes all my willpower not to plow into him, give him the chance to pick on someone his own size. I don’t tolerate violence against women. Ever. But if I get involved right now, it might only make it worse for her. So I wait to see how this will play out.
Her jaw clamps down so hard it looks as though her teeth might break. “He pinched my ass. I asked him nicely to keep his hands to himself. How is that insulting him?”
Días grabs her arm, his hand gripping like a vice. His hold is meant to inflict pain. “Wrong answer. When a man like the mayor wants to pinch your ass, you allow him.”
“Let go of me,” she grits, attempting to rip her arm from his grasp, but he doesn’t release her. She juts her chin out stubbornly, and I admire her bravery in the face of his violence. This fucker really is a madman.
“I’ll never let you go,bonita.” He pulls her body against his. “You’re mine… forever.”
Her eyes spark with fury, but she manages to flatten her expression a moment later. Her bowed head and downcast eyes are met with Días’s approval.
Tenderly, he cups her chin, tipping her head up to examine her face. The Madman has retreated, but in his place is something far worse. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“I’ll take you to the bathroom to clean up.” He brushes a hand down her cheek, and she tenses, her eyes squeezing shut. He releases her, and she takes a moment to compose herself, smoothing her hair down and straightening her silky black dress. “Vámonos,” he beckons, a possessive hand on her lower back. Her delicate chin rises and for a moment I think she’ll tell him to go to hell. But she doesn’t. Shoulders slumped, she allows him to lead her inside.
My fingers curl into fists, ice threading through my veins. Maybe I should have intervened, but there was something about her quiet strength and composure in the face of Días’s abuse that made me stand back. For now. Because I have no intention of ignoring the shit I just witnessed.
Entering the casino, I notice the crowd has thinned as the night winds down. Only the most hard-core of gamblers remain, or at least those too drunk to realize polite company has left. Those with cash to burn and a daring streak relish this time of night, when the highest of high-stakes gambling takes place. And if I know anything about Días, he’ll be the first mobster seated at the after-hours poker table. Just as I’m approaching the stairs to take me to the VIP room, Andrei steps into my path.
“There you are,” he remarks, clasping me on the shoulder. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Working the room as instructed,” I rib. Andrei made it clear I couldn’t just slink in the shadows all night. I’d have to shake hands and kiss babies on behalf of the Kozlov family. And I had… most of the night.
“Tonight went well.” He gives me a dad-like approving nod. Even though he’s only two years older than me, as head of the family, he’s technically the boss. “Now let’s see how you manage running the day-to-day operations.”
“Have some faith, brat. I’ve got this.” Andrei takes great pleasure in busting my balls, but he wouldn’t have put me in charge of casino operations if he wasn’t confident in my skills. Like Andrei, I have a sharp business sense, honed on the streets of Brooklyn. We grew up in the bratva—always listening, learning, and observing the high-rankingavtoritet. I studied my father during his prime, saw how he conducted business, the deals he made to grow the Kozlov Bratva to the most powerful brotherhood on US soil.
Andrei’s eyes roll upwards. “Handsomeandmodest.”
“Rich too,” I say, tossing a coin from my pocket in the air, but his attention has already wandered toward Georgia, his wife of over a year, sitting and chatting with Kira, Alyona, and Rowan, Yulian’s wife. When Georgia catches us looking over, she gives me a friendly smile and wave. But the look she gives Andrei communicates something else entirely.
“Eager to get your woman home?” I tease.
“Always,” he says, returning his wife’s hungry stare. Damn, these two never stop.
“I’m going to stay for a while. Maybe even play a few hands.” And deal with The Madman. But I don’t mention that.
My brother regards me with narrowed eyes. “Should I bother telling you to stay out of trouble?”
I shrug, a playful smile on my lips. “You could, but I make no guarantees.”
Especially not tonight.
CHAPTERTWO
BIANCA
I setmy palms on either side of the bathroom mirror and stare into my reflection. The makeup has done its job. The red bloom on my cheek brought on by Jorge’s slap is still sore to the touch, but at least it’s well concealed. A shiver runs down my spine and settles in a seed of repulsion. How long can this go on for? How long can I keep pretending?
He’s been rough with me before, but never like this. Still, I always knew what he was capable of, what his brutal nickname suggests. Men like him can only lock up their violence for so long before it explodes like a geyser under pressure. And tonight the stakes are high. Jorge is acting as my uncle’s emissary, a chance for him to wheel and deal with the crème de la crème of East Coast crime families.
