Sergei

  Rubbing his face between his hands, Sergei leaned back against the leather chair and propped his aching feet on the ottoman. He had two fully loaded guns within arm's reach and sat between the bed where Bianca slept and the door where any trouble might appear. She had tossed and turned fitfully before finally succumbing to exhaustion.

  And it was all his fault.

  While Sergei conceded that Darren Blake's beef with Bianca had started years ago, he also believed that Darren had specifically targeted Bianca for his deceitful machinations and power plays because of her ties to him and his ties to Nikolai. Whatever plans Nikolai and Besian had for the skinheads would put an end to that problem—but what about the next gang war?

  And there would be another one. There was always another one. Nikolai tried so hard to keep the city's underworld quiet, but there were always outside forces that couldn't be controlled. Sergei refused to put Bianca in harm's way ever again.

  "Sergei?" Bianca's sleepy, sweet voice interrupted his troubled thoughts.

  Shifting his gaze toward the bed, he realized sunset was upon them. Had he lost track of time so easily? He took in her rumpled hair and the cotton nightgown with its feminine softness and pale shade of purple. It dawned on him that this was the last time he would ever see her like this so he tried to imprint the vision on his brain forever.

  "Yes, milaya moya?"

  "You didn't come to bed."

  "No." He gestured to the door. "I wanted to make sure you were safe."

  She tugged the sheet higher. "Am I safe now?"

  "You will be." Numbness spread through his body, starting at his aching, breaking heart and arcing out from there with pulsing bursts. "When I'm gone."

  She frowned. "Gone?"

  Lowering his feet to the floor, Sergei pushed himself into a standing position. He reached back and unhooked the gold medallion his mother had given him many years ago. His throat was so tight he could hardly breathe but he forced himself to speak. "It's over, Bianca. We can't do this anymore."

  She blinked rapidly. "What?"

  "I'm leaving. Forever," he added, in case she hadn't understood him. "This?" He gestured between them. "Us? It's over. We're done."

  "But I love you." Her whispered words cut more deeply than any knife possibly could have.

  "And I love you," he answered honestly. "Because I love you, I have to leave you. I never wanted this life for you. I love you too much to condemn to this."

  "But I—"

  "No, Bianca." He held up his hand to silence her. Moving close enough to touch her, he grasped her small hand and pressed his medallion onto her palm before curling her fingers closed around it. Certain he wouldn't survive a final kiss, he picked up his weapons and moved to the door. "I'll pick up my things after you've gone to work."

  "Sergei…"

  Taking in her beautiful face one last time, he smiled at her. "You deserve so much better, Bianca. I know you'll have no trouble finding a better man than me."

  Broken and battered inside, Sergei spun on his heel—and left behind the woman he would love until he drew his dying breath.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Standing in the lobby of Samovar a few days later, I toyed with the gold medallion of St. Sergius that I hadn't taken off since Sergei had broken up with me. I gazed at one of Vivi's paintings that hung in a prominent position there. It was one of the pieces she had done during her freshman year of college. Viewing the moody canvas today, I had a different feeling of the art piece now than I had four years ago.

  Of course, four years ago, I wasn't suffering from the most wretchedly broken heart. My eyes closed briefly as a fresh wave of pain swept over me and tried to drag me under the melancholic currents that had been trying to drown me since Sergei walked out on me. Squeezing the medallion in my hand, I tried to get a grip on my emotions.

  I still had a hard time believing he had done that. When the initial numbness had passed, I had been enraged by the way he had turned his back on me and walked right out of my life. Later, when I had calmed down, I had finally grasped the motivation for his harsh and unexpected reaction.

  He loved me so much he refused to put me at risk. There was no way we could pretend that his life in the underworld would never touch mine. That childish, optimistic dream had been crushed under the weight of two dead bodies and one badly injured skinhead who had I feared would never be seen alive again.

  "Bianca?"

  My eyes widened at the sound of Lidia's voice. Of all the people I never wanted to deal with again, she ranked right up there at the top. Sighing, I reluctantly turned to face her. Instantly, I noticed the way she wrung her apron in her hands. "Yes?"

  "May I speak with you?"

  "Sure." I followed her to a quiet corner of the lobby. "Well?"

  Her gaze lingered on the medallion dangling from my neck, but she said nothing about it. She smoothed a few wayward strands of hair behind her ear. "I wanted to apologize to you for the other night. What I did to you and what I said to you was wrong, and I'm sorry."

  Her apology caught me off guard. It seemed sincere so I accepted it without reservation. "Thank you."

  "I'm a jealous person by nature. It's not an easy thing for me to admit, but it's true." She swallowed nervously. "I wanted Sergei for myself. He wanted me once, and I thought he would be the one to marry me. When he met you—well—all that changed."

  This would probably go down as the most awkward conversation of my life, but I decided to push through it. "What about Arty?"

  Surprise crossed her face. "You know Arty?"

  "It's a long, convoluted story." I waved my hand. "He told me that you two had dated for a while."

  "We did." Her expression softened, and I could tell she still had feelings for him. "He's a nice guy, but I treated him badly."

  "So apologize to him," I suggested. "You're right. He is nice. I'm sure he'd be willing to sit down with you and listen to whatever you need to say."

  "Maybe," she said uncertainly. "Why are you being so nice to me after the mean things I said to you?"

  "We're all human, and we all make mistakes. My mother is always preaching grace, and I think it's a good place to start in any relationship." I touched her arm and smiled. "I don't think you're a bad person. I really am sorry about the way Lena came after you."

  She shook her head. "I deserved that. It was a lie. What I said about Yuri," she explained. "He was a big flirt before her. He'd come in here and tease all of us. Sometimes he even took the prettier girls out for a nice time, but then he met Lena and all that stopped." Her mouth slanted, and she shrugged. "It's hard to see other women get what you want. It makes a woman cold inside."

  "Only if you let it," I reminded her.

  "Yes," she agreed quietly. Her gaze flicked to the door behind me where a large lunchtime business party was coming through the doors. "Come on. I'll take you back to see Nikolai."

  I followed Lidia to the offices in the rear of the restaurant, rapped my knuckles against the door and waited.

  "Yes?"

  I opened the door and peeked inside. "Nikolai?"

  "Bianca!" He stood up and gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. "Come in. Have a seat."

  I shut the door behind me and shook his hand before taking one of the chairs. "Thanks for seeing me."

  "It's no problem. Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee? Tea? Vodka?" He said the last with a teasing smile.

  "No, I'm fine, but thanks."

  He returned to his chair and leaned back. "Have you been to see the baby yet?"

  I smiled at the reminder of Benny and Dimitri's baby. Sofia Natalya Stepanov had made her debut early yesterday morning. In the end, Benny had undergone a planned C-section to bring her nine pound, two ounce bundle of joy in the world.

  "No, I'm going later today. I figured Benny was tired yesterday after having surgery in the morning. I would have stopped by this morning, but I didn't want to run in to Vivian and Sergei."

  "Oh. Ri
ght." A flash of regret touched his face. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished. "Sofia is the prettiest baby girl I've ever seen."

  "Yeah?"

  "So pretty," he repeated. "She has dark hair like Benny but blue eyes like Dimitri."

  "I think all babies have blue eyes when they're born."

  "These will stay blue, I think." Rapping his fingertips on his desk, he said, "About the repairs to your shop…"

  I waved my hand. "It's done. The contractors were in and out in a day."

  "If there was any other way, Bianca—"

  "It's fine, Nikolai." I really didn't want to talk about what had happened that night or the aftermath that followed. Kostya's impeccable staging had easily fooled the police and insurance company. Thankfully, the redundancies around the shop had allowed us to continue serving our brides with only the tiniest hiccup. The mob cleaner had only taken or destroyed dresses that hadn't been spoken for by customers.

  "It's not fine. It never should have happened." He ran his fingers through his sand-colored hair. "I waited too long to act and you very nearly paid the ultimate price."

  I didn't dare ask him what he had waited too long to do. The news had been filled with stories of a major fire at the auto shop the Night Wolves operated out of and of a shootout at some bar they owned outside of the city when the Feds had raided them to round the rest of them up. The only casualties had been those racist scumbags so there didn't seem to be much outpouring of concern over the gang violence.

  "He misses you," Nikolai said, his words seemingly out of the blue. "I've never seen him like this, not even when he had to leave his mother and brother behind."

  Hearing that Sergei missed me bolstered my courage. I had never faced off with a mob boss before so I needed every drop of bravery I could squeeze out of me. "That's why I'm here."

  "You want him back?"

  "I never asked him to leave."

  Nikolai sat forward. "You didn't break up with him?"

  I shook my head. "He left me."

  "To protect you?"

  "Yes."

  Shaking his head, Nikolai swore softly in his mother tongue. "He's always been such an honorable bastard." Turning his attention to me, he asked, "What can I do to help you?"

  "You can start by telling me exactly how much outstanding debt you hold for Sergei."

  "Why?"

  I reached into my purse and retrieved my checkbook and pen. "Because I intend to buy him from you."

  Nikolai blinked. "Are you serious?"

  "Yes."

  The mob boss stared at me for a few very unnerving seconds before bursting into laughter. Head thrown back, he stared at the ceiling and chuckled. "God, Bianca, I always knew you were a dark horse."

  Bristling at his amusement, I insisted, "I'm serious, Nikolai."

  He lowered his head and peered intently at me. "I know you are."

  "How much?"

  "It's a lot, Bianca."

  "Well, luckily for you, I have deep pockets."

  "Is that so?"

  I was probably tipping my hand too early, but I didn't think Nikolai would cheat me. "When Daddy was killed, the drunk driver who plowed into him survived, and our family took him and his insurance company to court. We received a big payout that Mama invested wisely. Later, when Perry was murdered, my mother sued the Blake family. They settled with us by giving us some pieces of land down in south Texas. You've heard of the Eagle Ford Shale?"

  "I have."

  "So you know what sorts of royalties we have pouring in then," I replied. "Name your price, Nikolai. I'm not walking out of here until I own Sergei."

  The mob boss reached for a slip of paper and clicked his pen. He scribbled a figure and slid the paper my way. "Don't start writing that check yet, Bianca. You can't just give me money like this. It will attract unwanted attention."

  I understood what he meant. Glancing at the paper, I kept the shock from filtering across my face. "How do we do this?"

  Nikolai seemed to be mulling it over. A smile started to lift the corners of his mouth. "I have just under sixty acres of land in Waller County that I need to move."

  "What? Over near Hempstead?"

  "Close by," he said. "It would be better if this land stayed in the family."

  "Uh-huh," I replied unhappily. "I suppose I don't want to know why."

  "Probably not," he agreed. "I can promise you that the land would be…cleaned…before it came into your possession."

  "So I buy the land—"

  "And you get Sergei, free and clear."

  "Do you mean that?"

  "I need him to fight on Friday and Saturday," Nikolai answered honestly. "There's too much money involved, including his own, to risk that. After Saturday, he's all yours."

  The mention of Sergei's money tied up in the fights made me think of his family. "That's something else I wanted to discuss. How do I get Sergei's family over here?"

  I might have imagined it, but it looked as if Nikolai's pale eyes actually warmed toward me. "Vladimir could easily immigrate under a job's visa with Dimitri's company, but it's Sergei's mother that has the hardest time coming over here because she's only a seamstress. Until Sergei becomes a citizen, he can't sponsor her immigration. The brothers don't want their mother left behind." He hesitated. "Did he tell you about the last lawyer?"

  "No."

  "The bastard scammed many Russians and Ukrainians here in Houston. He tucked tail and ran before I could get my hands on him. Sergei lost a ton of money and time to him. He's starting over now, and it will take time, even if Sergei gets citizenship soon. Unless—"

  "Unless what?"

  "There are ways to jump the line, but it costs money, Bianca."

  "Legal ways?"

  He nodded and opened a leather address book. Plucking free one of the Samovar business cards sitting on the corner of his desk, he turned it over and jotted down a name, phone number and address. He slid the card toward me. "This guy works for a firm that Yuri uses. He's safe and totally above board. He'll get Sergei's family here—for a price."

  "Thank you." I tucked the card into my purse along with my checkbook. "Which realtor do I need to visit to get this ball rolling?"

  "The land isn't officially for sale yet. I'll have Vee call you when it's time."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Is this your way of holding onto Sergei longer?"

  "No, this is my way of making sure we're all protected in this transaction. When Sergei is finished on Saturday, he's all yours if you still want him."

  "I do want him."

  "I can tell." Nikolai rose from his chair and walked me to the door. Touching my cheek, he smiled down at me. "I'm glad it's you, Bianca. You're the only woman brave enough to fight for him."

  "He's worth it."

  "Yes, he is." Nikolai patted my back. "It was nice doing business with you, Miss Bradshaw."

  "And you, Mr. Kalasnikov."

  Feeling some of the tension leave my body, I made my way outside and fished my phone out of my purse. Scrolling through my contacts, I found Erin's number. She was phase two of my plan.

  A bit breathlessly, she answered, "You've reached Mrs. Ivan Markovic. How may I dazzle you today?"

  I couldn't help but laugh. "Boy, you're really milking that newlywed thing."

  "Bianca! Hey, you want to go see the baby with me later?"

  "Sure. You want me to pick you up?"

  "Yeah. That's great."

  "Listen, I wondered if you might help me with something."

  "Is it about Sergei and the fights this weekend? Ivan said that you two were on the outs, and, honestly, I'm so shocked. When Lena told me you two were together, I thought for sure this was it, you know? Anyways. I'm rambling. Basically, I am totally at your disposal. Whatever you need, I'll do it."

  I laughed at her babbling offer of help. "I knew I could count on you."

  "You know it! Look, give me an hour to get dressed and then come get me. We'll go see the baby and then grab an early dinner. How do
es that sound?"

  "Like a good plan," I said and firmed up the details. Dropping my phone in my purse, I headed for the parking lot down the block. Determination blossomed inside me. Sergei thought the only way he could protect me was to cut me out of his life—and his heart—forever. Little did he know that he was about to meet his toughest opponent yet.

  I loved that man, and I wasn't giving him up without one hell of a fight.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Head throbbing and hands burning, Sergei tried to drown out the noise of the crowd and get his nerves under control. In a very short time, he would walk down the dimly lit hall of the meatpacking plant to the metal cage to face his third opponent. Last night, he had won his first two fights, but he didn't feel the usual surge of male pride that followed hard won victories.

  No, he didn't feel anything but that deep, hollow, soul-sucking ache in his chest. The pulsing emptiness of it reminded him of the only thing he had ever truly wanted and the one thing he simply couldn't have.

  Ivan lumbered into the makeshift locker room like the great big bear that he was. He dumped a second bucket of ice into the sink before coming over to the bench where Sergei sat. His trainer and mentor crouched down in front of him and put his hands on either side of Sergei's face. "Let me see that cut."

  Sergei looked up at the dingy ceiling tiles while Ivan prodded the slit on his cheek. "It's fine."

  "For now," Ivan said unhappily. "This is what happens when champions get sloppy and forget to block."

  "Da."

  Cracking his battered knuckles, Ivan exhaled a pent-up breath and took the spot next to him on the bench. "I know you're in pain, Sergei. I know that you miss your woman, but that is no excuse for putting your life at risk. You have to get your fucking head right—or I'll throw in the towel right now."

  Sergei's gaze snapped to Ivan's face. "You wouldn't."

  "I will."

  "But the money—"

  "Fuck the money, Sergei." Ivan shook his head and ran his finger along one of the tattoos decorating the back of his hand. "The only reason I train you now and keep one foot in this dirty business is because I wanted to keep you safe. If you're not going to look out for yourself in that cage, then I'll do it for you."