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“Will you be seeing Ley?” I reach for the vodka that she already ordered for me. My sister has been avoiding me. I got to see her in July when I was in Eastport to help Gray protect his wife, but she avoided spending time with me. I have a feeling there is something that happened to her, and she doesn’t want me to know because I will scorch everything to protect her. Our father didn’t protect her much when she was young, but as soon as she came to live with us, she was under my protection. I don’t care that she went into the military and became some special forces secret killer. She’s my baby sister. I’m glad Gray is close to her finally to protect her. She and he have always been closer than she and I. Now that I have Sparrow partially in my life, I know how important it is to treat our women. Babushka always said that we are supposed to do that, but it took me finding my woman to realize how much I didn’t do that for my sister. I know she is also angry with our father for being the Pakhan. She doesn’t understand that in order to have heroes, you have to have villains. Our father isn’t always a villain, just when it comes to those who choose to go against him.
“I’m going to try to talk her into coming back for the party, but I doubt she will,” Babushka says, and I hear the hurt in her voice.
I place my elbow on the table and rest my chin between my thumb and forefinger as I take her in. Just like her, I can tell when she’s lying to me. I watch her for a moment, and she starts to squirm.
“Stop staring me down, young man.” She avoids my eyes as she blusters.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to Ley?” I ask in French, keeping my voice firm and even. Dmitri’s body tightens next to me. He doesn’t speak the language, but he knows I’m keeping a secret. I keep my eyes on Babushka.
“It’s not my story to tell.” She finally confirms my fears, and I sit back to mull over the information.
“So I must confront her?” I look across the restaurant and notice the amount of people watching us. I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and see Mikhail approaching the table. He nods at me, and I give him a slight nod in return.
“Let’s eat, boys,” Babushka says in English. She didn’t answer my question, which leaves me to decide if I should hurt my sister more by digging into her past or let her come to me. She will eventually, she knows I’ll find out. If she doesn’t come to me, I’ll go to her and demand the truth.
We have a nice dinner of Babushka’s famous pierogi. She gave me the recipe with her blessing when I created this restaurant in her honor. As our meal winds down and we are all relaxing back in our chairs, one of the maître d’s walks over.
“Mr. Morosov.” He waits until I look up at him. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just received a message from the other room.” He doesn’t say cardroom or identify it in any way. In Vegas you can have smaller gambling rooms, that’s not illegal. What is illegal, however, is taking a cut of the winnings and allowing banned players to play, under special circumstances of course. “There is an issue.”
I take a deep breath. It never ends. I’m always working, but it’s going to have to change when I bring Sparrow home. Dmitri gets up this time and heads that way.
“Babushka, I’m sorry to end our evening early. It was nice to see you.” I lean over and kiss her on each cheek when I stand from my chair. Her hand reaches out and stops me.
“Andrei, I’d like to play a hand or two.” I help her up.
“You’ll stay with Mikhail,” I order her, and she doesn’t argue with me.
We move through the restaurant toward the kitchen and then to the entrance next to the fridge. As soon as the door opens, I take in the opulence of the large gambling room. There are about a dozen poker tables, several slot machines, and a couple of blackjack tables set up. The room is decorated in red and gold. The large round gold light fixtures cast the room in a glow of warm light. I hear the raised voices and make my way over to the group that has surrounded them. I don’t think twice about leaving Mikhail with Babushka, he’ll protect her with his life.
“I want in on the game. I have the money. I should be allowed to play just like anyone else,” a loud voice declares, and I know who it is before the crowd parts.
“Mr. McCall, what game are you insisting to be a part of?” I ask. He turns to look at me and the smile on his face almost causes me to pause, but I don’t give him the satisfaction. “I’m sure we have plenty of games going on tonight you’d be interested in.” I smile just as slyly at him.
“Andrei,” he says, and Dmitri’s hand coming down on his shoulder hard stops him short. He’s exactly my height and looks me in the eye as his thin lips hold his wide smile in place. His body gives a slight twitch, as if he’s a junky, and he starts to slouch, unable to retain his full height. This is what comes from years of sitting at the tables instead of working out and keeping himself fit. “I mean, Mr. Morosov, I’d like in your game next month.” Ah, he wants in the high-stakes game.
“Mr. McCall, the buy-in for that game is extremely high.” I cock my head to the side and rub my chin in contemplation. Is he trying to bluff me? This could be the way I get her away from him. “Are you sure you can afford it?” If he takes a loan from me, I could ask for her as collateral.
“I have the money right here.” He opens his ratty sport coat and pulls out an envelope full of cash. I try to cover my shock, but I can’t help looking at Dmitri for confirmation. Brett holds the envelope out to me, and I nod at Dmitri to take it and count it out. Brett is being disrespectful to me, and he knows it as he smirks.
“What? Too good to touch my money?” McCall spits at me with a slight tip of his lips.
I stare him down. I’m not beneath it, but that’s why I have men. I also don’t want him to see the slight shake in my hand. I spread the word that he wasn’t supposed to be extended credit. Where did he come up with half a million dollars?
“It’s all here, boss,” Dmitri says. I slowly turn from McCall to Dmitri. My eyes flaring slightly give away my shock and wonder. He nods, knowing I’ll want to know where he got the money from.
I paste on a smile and turn back to McCall. “Well, it appears you’ll be in our game next month. See you then.” I give him my back and head to the back exit where one of my vehicles will be waiting. Dmitri moves along with me. “Make sure Mikhail stays with Babushka until she leaves with her guards.” All of my family has at least one of my own as their guards, except for Ley, who until recently I had no clue where she was located. I’ll be sending one to her, but she won’t know. I have to make sure that no member of my family is ever used against me. Because I haven’t been watching Sparrow, I brought the Range Rover today. I jump into the driver’s seat, beating Dmitri to it. I need to make sure Sparrow is okay. For some reason I have a bad taste in my mouth and a pit in my gut with worry.
Getting across town takes longer than I like. The salon comes into view. The lights are still on as she cleans. I slam the car into park and decide I have no choice. I have to see her. Hold her. She’s so close to being legal, and I need to know where that money came from. I’m out of my car and pulling on the salon door in seconds. It opens without any resistance. That’s going to cost her, she shouldn’t be in an unsecured area. It’s not safe. I hear her singing to a popular song—“Scars to Your Beautiful”—and it hits me how much she’s been put through by her father and brother. If her father were still alive, I’d kill him myself.
“Ptitsa,” I growl my nickname for her, and she jumps and turns around. Her waist-length hair is up in a messy bun. She’s in her uniform of scrub pants and a plain scrub top. It’s different from the one she wears for the hotel, which I hate, but even this plain outfit can’t hide her curves or how beautiful she is.
“Andrei.” My name is a sigh on her breath, and I’m moving across the room to her. I grip her waist with one hand and take the mop with my other. I hand it behind me to where I know Dmitri is waiting. He respects us and turns his back. With my free hand, I tilt up her face, my palm against her soft cheek.
I look between her big, beautiful green eyes and can’t stop the motion. My head lowers to her lips, and the first sip of their lusciousness makes my knees lock so I don’t collapse. It’s just a gentle brush, but it’s not enough. I pull away and look down at her. Her eyes are now closed and she’s holding her breath. I lean in and touch our lips together again. This time I trace my tongue along her seam, and she opens. As soon as I have access to her mouth, I dive in and pull her in tighter. My hand at her waist wraps around her back and pulls her in flush to my body. I’m lost to her. I take the kiss deeper, and it isn’t until I feel her leg wrap around mine that I realize I’ve led us down a dangerous path. I pull away and see her flushed cheeks. Her eyes flutter open but stay half-mast with desire.
“I could kiss you more, but it’s wrong.” There’s a grittiness to my voice from my desire. She blinks a couple of times before her eyes clear. She looks up at me in shock, her breasts heaving against my chest. “Wrong because you are still young. But soon, ptitsa, I’ll do more than kiss you.”
“Why are you here?” She steps back and adjusts her clothes.
