Sergei, Volume 2
He wanted to ask what the newlyweds had fought over but didn't. It wasn't any of his business yet he couldn't help but wonder about his own relationship with Bianca. Ivan and Erin had been together for a year, and they absolutely adored each other. Their love was unshakable and strong. He didn't know whether he should find the revelation that they fought a comfort or a concern, considering the relatively short length of his relationship with Bianca.
"Ten is getting out of prison tomorrow. I offered him one of the rooms in our house until he gets back on his feet. Erin didn't take that news very well."
Sergei had never met the ruthless enforcer everyone called Ten, but if the chilling stories told by the crews were even half true, he didn't want Anton Vasiliev anywhere near Bianca. Surprised by Ivan's admission, he said, "No, I can't imagine she would."
"It's not about his record or even what he did for the family that made her mad," Ivan explained. "It's about her sister. I won't let Ruby live with us if she ever gets out of prison."
"Because?"
"Because she's a fucking junkie who nearly got Erin killed," Ivan growled matter-of-factly. "Ruby knows how to twist Erin around her finger and manipulate her. I won't let Ruby hurt Erin again. That's a pain that cuts too deep." He exhaled a rough breath. "Erin trusts that I know Ten well enough to judge his character. He's safe to have in the house. He's done extremely violent things, but he's not a violent man."
Sergei chortled. "Is there a difference?"
Ivan pinned him in place with an icy gaze. "You tell me. Should I list all the things you did for Nikolai?"
Duly chastised, Sergei clenched his teeth and nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
"Ten did his job, and he did it well. When that robbery got fucked up, he stepped forward and took the heat to protect the family. He went inside for six years. Six. Years." Ivan emphasized with a jab of his meaty, scarred finger. "We owe him a new start."
"In your house?" Sergei shook his head. "Put him in an apartment or send him to live with someone else."
"He's my friend." Ivan watched the fighters in the ring, but Sergei could tell he wasn't paying any attention to them. He was thinking of Ten and of the history they shared. "He needs people he trusts around him now."
"And Erin? What does she need?"
Ivan shot him a warning look. "My wife is my business. When you have a wife, you'll understand that."
"Give me a few weeks, and I'll understand." He grumbled the words under his breath, but Ivan's keen hearing picked them out even over the din of raucous music blaring over the speakers and the noise of the gym.
His mentor narrowed his eyes at him and then called out to the fighters in the ring. "You two are done. Cool down. Get showered. Get the hell out of my warehouse."
The younger of the two fighters tugged his mouthpiece free while the other one bailed as quickly as possible and practically ran for the locker room. Panting and slicked with sweat, the blond asked, "What time do I come back tomorrow?"
Ivan laughed harshly. "You want more of this punishment?"
The kid shrugged. "It's the only way I'll learn."
Sergei didn't let it show that he was impressed by the kid's hunger to prove himself. He was lean and scrappy, but there was room for improvement as long as he had heart. "What's your name?"
"Boy."
"Boy?"
"Boychenko," the kid answered. The only accent to his voice was a slight hint of that Texas drawl that colored his vowel sounds in the same way it did Bianca's. "Roman Boychenko."
"You're with Arty?" Sergei held up three fingers to differentiate the Artyom he meant from the other one that ran in their circle. Boy nodded, and Sergei glanced at Ivan. If the kid was trusted to run collections for Arty, that was a good enough recommendation for Sergei. A clipped bob of Ivan's head confirmed his thoughts. "Be here at six tomorrow morning. Go easy on your breakfast or else you'll be mopping up his floors."
"Yes, sir."
Sergei watched the kid climb out of the ring and start a cool down circuit. Turning to Ivan, he made a face. "Sir?"
Ivan clapped him on the back. "You're getting old."
"Old? I'm not even thirty-five!"
"When you were nineteen how old did thirty seem?"
Sergei grunted, and Ivan laughed. Hooking a thumb toward his office, he said, "Let's talk."
When they were safely inside Ivan's office, he leaned against the door and waited. With his huge, inked arms crossed in front of his chest, Ivan looked every bit the undefeated underground champion he had been when he had retired from Nikolai's service and Sergei had taken his place. Now he trained elite fighters who fought for huge purses in tournaments and on cable television. He was one of the most sought after coaches in the mixed-martial arts world and hugely successful—and Sergei wanted to be just like him.
"Have you thought about my offer?"
"I have."
"And?"
Sergei sighed. "I want to take your job offer, but if I go full-time with you, I have to give up the construction piece the boss gave me. I can't do both."
"You don't have to do both. You work for me and take your cut from the construction." He said it so easily. "The boss doesn’t expect you to swing a hammer eighty hours a week. He gave you that action as a reward for all you did for him and for the family."
"It doesn't feel right to take the money without doing the work."
"Do you have any idea how much money he made off your fists?"
Considering his own small winnings, Sergei had a good idea of the prize money Nikolai had won off his fights. "I need to square it with him first. I need to keep that construction income. Bringing my family over won't be cheap and then there's Bianca."
Ivan studied him for an unnerving moment. "Is she making you pay her back for buying you from the boss?"
He shook his head. "No. She calls it a gift. A gift," he repeated with a rough laugh. "Can you believe that?"
"Yes, I believe it. She loves you. She fought for you. There's no sweeter woman in the world than one who will fight for you."
Certain that he could trust Ivan and desperate to tell someone, he confessed, "Bianca is pregnant."
Ivan's arms dropped to his sides in shock. "Pregnant?"
Sergei nodded. "It was only one night, one time, but..."
"That's all it takes." Ivan reached back and gripped the desk behind him. "Is she upset?"
"No, she was surprised. We both were, but now she's happy. We're both excited."
"That's good. It's easier that way." Ivan hesitated. "Are you going to marry her?"
"Of course!" He couldn't believe Ivan even had to ask.
"Because you love her or—"
"Because I love her," Sergei interjected. "Because I want a family with her."
A broad smile brightened Ivan's hard face. "I'm happy for you. It's good to have a woman like Bianca in your life. She's strong. She'll make you a better man."
Sergei understood that Ivan was thinking of the way Erin had changed and softened him. "I'm luckier than I deserve."
Ivan waved his hand as if to argue that point. "When are you going to ask her?"
"Soon," he said. "I've already made some plans."
"Do you have a ring?" When he shook his head, Ivan pushed off his desk and strolled around to the back side of it. He opened a drawer, retrieved his wallet and plucked a business card from inside it. "Here. Go see Kazimir. He's the best in town. We've all used him. He did beautiful work for Erin. You've seen Vivian's rings?"
"Yes." They was so perfectly her. The boss had chosen well.
"Kazimir keeps settings that only need center stones on hand. You'll find something for Bianca there."
Sergei accepted the card. "Thank you."
"When you walk in the door, he'll take one look at you and recognize you as Nikolai's enforcer, but just in case he doesn't, you tell him I sent you. He'll take care of you."
And there it was. The way their world worked. No doubt this jeweler gave discounts to Nikolai'
s friends in exchange for some sort of perk—protection, a cheaper source of materials, side deals that helped him beat his competitors. Nothing came free in this world. Nothing.
"Listen," Ivan said carefully, his tone strained, "have you talked to your family about Bianca yet?"
"They know they'll be meeting Bianca in London. They know she saved me."
Ivan drummed his thick fingers on his desk. "Have you told them everything about her?"
A long, uncomfortable moment of silence stretched between them. Finally, Sergei said, "They know she's not like us."
Not like us. Not Russian or white. He didn't have to say the words Ivan was undoubtedly thinking. They were thoughts that had been troubling him since finding out Bianca was pregnant. He refused to burden her with the what-ifs while she was in such a delicate state, but it was possible that Lidia might have been right about his mother. She wouldn't dislike Bianca simply because of the color of her skin, but those old ingrained ideas about what was right and what was not weren't going to be easy to change. He hoped that the idea of a grandchild would soften his mother's feelings, but if it didn't…
"These things…" Ivan's voice trailed off as he seemed to be searching for the right words. "Look, we live here now. It's different here. Your family will meet Bianca and see how sweet she is. They'll understand how far she went to save you. They'll forget about everything else."
And if they don't? It was the question that wouldn't stop tormenting him.
Ivan stepped closer and squeezed his shoulder. "It will all work out in the end. Yes?"
With a smile that didn't reach his eyes, Sergei nodded and left the office after a quick discussion about Boy's training. After showering and changing into jeans and a polo shirt, he headed for the exit. He glanced toward Ivan's office and was surprised to see Erin walking toward her husband. As usual, she wore a flirty little dress that made her seem so carefree and innocent.
Slowing his steps, he watched the pair interact. The regret darkening Ivan's eyes and tightening his expression was clear enough. He held out one big hand, his knuckles gnarled and tattooed so heavily, and Erin smiled so sweetly at him. She interlaced their fingers and tugged him toward his office. Like a puppy trailing its master, Ivan followed her into the office and promptly shut the door. A moment later, Ivan stepped in front of the window and started to close the blinds.
Smirking and laughing softly to himself, Sergei decided that Ruby wasn't the only one who could wrap someone around her finger. Erin had managed to do what no other person had—she had tamed the beast and had him eating right out of the palm of her pretty little hand. He had no doubts that the couple would work out their disagreement.
Sergei sat in his SUV until the air conditioner cooled the interior. He smacked the card Ivan had given him against the steering wheel and decided to go see the jeweler first. Once he had the ring sorted, he would make one more stop before hitting the construction offices.
After listening to Bianca voice her fears about her mother's reaction to the news, he wanted to spare her any ugliness. If anyone was going to bear the brunt of Mrs. Bradshaw's anger, it should be him. He was the one who had seduced Bianca that night and persuaded her to let him make love to her without any barriers between their bodies. If her mother wanted to hand out a scolding, he would take it right on the chin and spare Bianca the worst. He had sworn to protect Bianca, and he meant to do that.
As he backed out of his parking space, Sergei felt an unfamiliar quiver of panic hit his gut. He had a sneaking suspicion Bianca's mother was going to make him work for her blessing and permission to marry her daughter. With a snort of laughter, he decided that the same trick that had endeared him to Bianca wasn't likely to work on her mother. Kicking down her front door to save her from a shower curtain? Not a chance in hell of that one winning over Mrs. Bradshaw.
He would think of something. He always did. Once he had Bianca's mother squared away, he would concentrate on an even bigger problem—his own mother.
Chapter Two
When Sergei entered the jewelry store, he immediately noticed Nikolai Kalasnikov standing at the glass counter on the far left side. His gaze skipped around the room, counting up the four other customers, and landed on Kostya who lingered just off to the right side of the door, ever vigilant and ready to protect the boss. Just a few short days ago, that had been Sergei's job. He felt suddenly strange to be in the same space as his old boss but totally apart from that world.
Glancing back toward the sound of the opening and closing door, Nikolai did a double-take. A true smile curved his mouth. "Sergei."
"Boss." He might not be on Nikolai's payroll anymore but the man was the boss of Houston.
"Shopping for Bianca?" Nikolai leaned an elbow on the glass case and eyed him with amusement. "Surely you aren't in need of an apology present so soon?"
"No." Sergei laughed and joined the boss at the counter. He was surprised when the other man held out his hand. Grasping it firmly, he shook it. "I'm here to look at those."
Nikolai followed his pointing finger to the case of engagement rings. His eyes widened slightly. "I see."
Not wanting to discuss the reason behind their rushed engagement, Sergei said, "Ivan sent me here. He said this is the best place."
The boss seemed to understand that he wasn't going to share any more than he had already revealed so he didn't push. "It is. Every piece I've ever given Vee has come from here. Kaz has good taste." He uncovered the jewelry sitting on white cloth. "See?"
A brilliant gold and diamond necklace glittered under the bright lights. The design made Sergei smile. Nikolai had commissioned a beautiful sunburst pendant for Vivian. Matching sunburst earrings and a delicate bracelet completed the set. The thoughtfulness behind the gift showed how much the boss adored and cherished his young wife. He called her his sun because she was the bright light that illuminated his darkness.
"I wanted to get her something special for the art show next week." Nikolai brushed his fingers over the diamonds. "She deserves it."
"Yes." He had been her bodyguard long enough to know how very hard she worked. How many evenings had he simply sat in a corner and stared at the pieces lining the walls of her studio while she splashed paint on canvas and swirled her brushes around a palette? Like Bianca, he hoped Vivian's upcoming show opened more doors for her career. Her paintings were just so beautiful and haunting. He wanted so many more people to see her talent.
Covering up the jewelry, Nikolai turned his attention to the nearby engagement ring case. "What do you think Bianca will like?"
Sergei shadowed Nikolai to the case and studied the display. "It has to be delicate. Not too big or flashy," he added. "She works with her hands all day. I want her to be able to wear the ring without it snagging on the dresses at her shop."
Nikolai made a humming sound in agreement. "Princess cut? Asscher? Cushion?"
Sergei blinked. He had no idea what the hell the boss meant. "Uh…square?"
Nikolai laughed and tapped the glass. "You want a princess cut."
Certain he would be making many trips to this store in the future, Sergei made a mental note to do some jewelry research. As he scanned the rings in the case, his gaze flickered over one in particular and swung back to reconsider it. There were two rows of winking diamonds in a rounded square shape surrounding an open slot meant for a larger center stone. The shoulder and mounting had detailed open scrollwork in the platinum and more diamonds.
"That's very nice," Nikolai murmured his approval. "I think it's a setting meant for a round stone though."
"Round, square," Sergei said with a shrug. "It's pretty." Like her.
Finished helping his customer, the shop's owner sauntered over and held out his hand. Nikolai made introductions. After shaking hands, the older man produced a key to unlock the case. "Have you found something you like?"
Sergei indicated the ring. "Can I see this one?"
"Of course." Kazimir reached in and removed the tray holding th
e ring Sergei had been admiring. Holding it up for Sergei's inspection, he said, "A beautiful ring for a beautiful woman."
Smiling, Sergei took the ring and inspected it carefully. The craftsmanship was superb. He imagined the diamonds and platinum adorning Bianca's finger. There was no need to look at other rings. This was the one.
"If you like this one, my daughter has the sketch for a matching wedding band." Kazimir motioned toward the back of the shop. "Would you like to look at some center stones?"
"Yes." Sergei handed the ring back to the owner.
"This setting is for a round diamond. A carat or thereabouts," he added. "Let me go in the back and bring out a selection for you."
While they waited for the jeweler to return with the diamonds, Nikolai made small talk. "Did you see Vanya this morning?"
Sergei nodded. "We tossed one of the kids you sent."
"Which one did you keep?"
"Boychenko."
Nikolai seemed surprised by that. "He's small."
"Everyone is smaller than me," he said easily. "He's not as big as some of the other fighters on the circuit, but he's fast. He can learn."
"He won't ever be you," Nikolai groused. "There will never be another you. After Vanya left, I was lucky to have you fall into my hands. Now?" He shook his head. "I don't foresee many wins in our future."
Sergei noted the way the boss said our. Even though he was out of the family, he was still considered part of it. He wondered if he would ever truly be out of that life. Even Ivan and Alexei Sarnov couldn't completely cut their ties. Ivan continued to train fighters for the boss, and Alexei provided trucks from his fleet whenever the boss needed them.
"Look, boss, when you have time, I'd like to talk about the construction company." Nikolai's eyes narrowed fractionally. It was a twitch Sergei had learned to see as a warning so he decided to tread very carefully. "Ivan offered me a job at his warehouse."
The lines eased around the boss' mouth. "The gym is a better fit for you now, but there's a better future in the construction. For you and your family," he gestured to the engagement rings with a lift of his chin. "David wants to retire in the next two or three years so you'll stay with the company and take over when he leaves. You'll learn from him and then you'll have something legitimate that's yours."