An Obsession with Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 3) (7 page)

Had
he
had the pleasure? “I have, yes,” Maks said blandly, giving nothing away.

“She’s quite something, isn’t she? I doubt I’d make her hurt much for her sins. Maybe just a few tears. I’ll certainly enjoy giving her the opportunity to mollify me. As you’ve seen, she’s more than equipped.”

Around the black look he and Vincente exchanged, Maks talked himself down as fast as he fucking could.
It’s business. I have to think of Vasily. He doesn’t need to deal with any fallout created by personal reactions. What if he finally decides I
do
cause too much unnecessary strife and cuts me loose? This isn’t worth that. It’s business. Sydney Martin is just another woman I plan on fucking before moving on.
He paused as something about that had his conscience wagging a finger at him.
None of this matters in the big picture. I’m enjoying the chase because having her give in, having her submit to me, will mean I won. Nothing more. She’s not worth losing my head or my family over.

Only seconds had passed, and as he imagined taking Morales to the ground and bludgeoning the Mexican with his eager fists, blood running, skin splitting, teeth coming loose as cartilage and bone was rearranged, Maks calmly pocketed his key. Once he was sure he wasn’t going to erupt, he said, “Would you outline the deal you two made so that we’re clear on your understanding of it?”

“Of course. It was very simple. I would be the sole supplier to her patrons, while she and her staff would handle distribution. All I had to do was deliver the product and keep other suppliers away.”

“Indefinite time period?”

“We’d agreed to reconvene after one year to discuss any changes to our agreement.”

“When is that meeting to take place?”

“It already has. I dropped in to see her before arriving here tonight.”

Which was why Sydney had called him, Maks thought, grateful for another puzzle piece. “And how did that go down?”

“As expected.”

Vague and annoying.
“Did she renew?”

“She will.”

Maks nodded and moved over to join Vincente. He’d heard enough.

“You’re blushing, brother,” the Reaper muttered under his breath with no change to his apathetic expression.

“Suck it, asshole,” he returned just as quietly.

“I’ll get back to you with an answer soon, Luiz,” Vasily said. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention before acting on it.”

As Micha and Alek saw the unhappy group out, Maks brought Vincente and Vasily back to his office. The minute the door closed, Vasily was falling to his ass on the leather couch, cursing in Russian. V got every word because he and the fourth that made up their tight group, Gabriel Moretti, who was no doubt at home curled around his new bride, spoke the language almost as well as the Russians did.

“Did that fucking jack-off seriously just request permission to ruin a young woman?” Vasily growled from behind a hard face-scrub.

Maks didn’t say shit. He went around and sat in the chair behind his desk, movements subdued as he tried not to draw attention to himself. What if Vasily handed this over to one of their other guys?

“You heading over there?”

He glared up at Vincente, the fucking big mouth. “No.”

V’s dark brows popped up. “No?”

“Why?” Vasily asked, leaning to the side so he could see Maks around Vincente’s bulk. He looked as suspicious as the Reaper did.

“She took the night off. I’m meeting her at Coney Island tomorrow. That was the call I received before Morales showed.”

Vasily got up and came to stand in front of his desk, his eyes hooded. “That would have been minutes after Morales left her. She must have been spooked. Was she requesting help from you? Or from
us
?”

Maks shrugged and shoved a couple of pens off to the side of a newly drawn-up liquor order Micha must have left behind. “I won’t know until I talk to her tomorrow.”

“You know this puts a crimp in your other plans for her, don’t you, son?”

Slowly he raised his eyes to the man standing before him. He took his time because he didn’t want the resentment he was feeling to show through in his stare. “I don’t see that one has anything to do with the other.” He was about to get shut down. He knew it.

“There’s business, and there’s pleasure, and never the two shall meet,” Vasily reiterated when he didn’t have to. “But you know that.” He settled back on his heels and crossed his arms over his wide chest, his casual outfit of black slacks and indigo dress shirt looking smart even without a jacket. “It might be best if we assign this to someone else.”

The axe fell, and everything inside Maksim protested it. He shoved to his feet. “Absolutely not.” He leaned his closed fists on the desk and came in, but not too close. He wanted to be taken seriously but didn’t want to appear aggressive. “I will handle this for her. No one else. I will do so by the book and with the same amount of professionalism you’d show. I won’t make it personal. I swear. I won’t fuck her even if she begs me. Don’t take me off this one, Vasily.”

The WTF on Vincente’s and his Pakhan’s faces should have been amusing. It wasn’t, because Maks was in the same place. What the fuck
was
he doing?

He pictured his Aussie coming up against Morales, tiny form on the defensive as she tried to hide the fear in her normally unflappable expression. What had Morales done to her earlier to make her so afraid that she’d called him? Had he threatened her? Touched her? Done worse?

“Do
not
take this one from me,” he ground out again.

“I think I should because you’re already too involved to think clearly—otherwise you’d have already come to the same conclusion I have. Do you know what will save her if she has indeed screwed with this dealer’s business?”

Feeling tangled, Maks tried to keep up and was embarrassed when Vincente made it there first.

“They have to think she belongs to one of you.”

Vasily nodded. “Exactly. Is she worth that? Is this relative stranger worth the time and effort required to convince Morales she’s untouchable? We don’t know Sydney Martin well and really don’t owe her anything.”

“I do,” Vincente said. He’d picked up the miniature globe on Maks’s desk and was spinning the pewter-colored earth in a lazy circle. “When we went to her club looking for info on Nollan, Sydney didn’t hesitate to share what she knew. Had Maks not already found out about the cousin in New York, Sydney supplying that asshole’s name would have given us one hell of a lead. I’d say she deserves a boon.”

“From you,” Vasily pointed out.

V looked as surprised by that division as Maks felt. As close as they all were, and despite the two distinct families—Tarasov and Moretti—Vasily normally didn’t split hairs like that.

Vincente was officially part of Gabriel’s crew. Not Vasily’s.

“Your daughter would probably say ‘from
us
,’ ” Vincente pointed out. “Considering what Nika is to her.”

Vasily’s daughter, Eva, was Nika’s best friend, had known her since childhood. It was no secret Vasily would do almost anything for his grown daughter, who was now married to Gabriel, head of the Moretti family.

Vasily smiled. “Yes, she would. Okay then. It seems Ms. Martin earned herself an IOU and is now calling it in. Now we just have to decide who she will belong to, so to speak.”

Wondering if he was being punked or some shit, Maksim went around his desk, not sure whether to pace, sit, stand, or wave.
Christ.
When was the last time he’d had to prove he was the man for the job?

“I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but Morales doesn’t have the balls to come at me. If you give this to anyone below me, the fear factor won’t be the same.”

V snorted. “You for real? Since when are
you
worried about sounding arrogant?”

Vasily’s expression said he’d been thinking the same. Maks ignored them both, having been serious. He was who he was, and others in their world feared him.

“I agree,” Vasily allowed. “It wouldn’t be as convincing and would take longer than necessary if we didn’t skim from the top. So that leaves you, Alek, or Sergei.”

Wading through the warmth filling him at being lumped in with Vasily’s blood, both Alek and Sergei being his nephews, Maks heard himself offering respect by verbally stepping back. “Yes, but it’s your decision to make.”

Vincente’s phone buzzed, and he took it out to read the text. He was already heading for the door when he murmured, “Gotta go.”

“Vincente?” Vasily said.

V stopped with his hand on the knob and turned back. “My NYPD contact just freed himself up,” he volunteered before being asked. “Nothing serious.”

“Where is Gabriel tonight?”

“At home.”

“Why are you on your own?”

V’s lip pulled up in the corner, and for a split second he looked bashful in light of the concern. “Alek came with, but I’m not taking him to the meet because my snitch scares easily.”

“Where will you end up after your meeting?”

“Old Westbury.”

Vasily dismissed him with a satisfied nod, and Vincente departed, the edge of his long coat barely making it out before the door closed behind him.

After going to the bar in the corner, Maks poured two drinks.

“We both know Sergei isn’t up to the job,” Vasily said as he accepted one from his perch on the front of the desk. “I’m not so sure Alek is either, but I’m working on that. So that leaves you.” He raised his glass, and Maks clinked his against it before taking a drink and putting the chair in front of his monitors to use. “For the first time ever, that isn’t as comforting to me as it should be.”

Swallowing the vodka, and the insult, Maks demanded, “Why? How can you think I’m not the man for this goddamn job, Vasily?”

“Because I know you, Maksim. We’ve used this method before to force an associate to stand down. But you wouldn’t know that because I’ve never involved you in a job so tedious. It’s time-consuming and boring, and I’m not sure you realize what’s involved. You and Sydney would be put together for hours at a time, and those hours would most likely turn into days that might—depending on if Morales is the suspicious type—become weeks.” His brow tweaked. “That might sound pretty attractive to you right now, until you remember this would be a job and it would be strictly hands-off. The role-playing would be for the sake of the
outside world only
. Any deeper involvement would complicate things. We can’t risk her blowing the setup over a lover’s quarrel. We could end up headfirst in a war with the Mexican cartel, which I’d like to avoid.”

The flames that had begun heating Maks’s blood were doused. “And I would have a problem with that . . . why?”

“Because you want her.”

He did. Badly. But . . . “This has clearly become about more than me wanting to fuck a beautiful woman. Morales has threatened her. She never would have come to me otherwise. How am I supposed to turn my back on something that had to have cost her?” He swallowed what was left in his glass and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Do you have any idea what a control freak this woman is? I’ve known her, what, a couple months? In that time I’ve come to see she’s strong and stubborn and completely self-reliant. In character—physically she’s a piece of fluff. So for her to reach out? She knows she’s in some serious trouble.” He felt his mouth curve into a deeper frown than before. “Despite what you think, knowing that really does trump my dick wanting a smile.”

In his periphery he could see Vasily studying him, but he didn’t look up from the melting ice in his glass, too skittish of what he might see. If he was refused and the job handed off to Alek, Maks would have zero say in the matter. He’d have to watch from the sidelines as one of his best friends paraded Sydney around town, taking her on dates, possibly kissing her to make them look legit.
Holy fuck.
That wouldn’t be pretty. But what choice would he have other than to stand back and allow it to happen? None.

He heard Vasily rise, and he did the same, bringing his head up when the role of bootlicker became too much for him.

His Pakhan stood before him, expression resigned. “You’ll protect her from whatever threat Luiz Morales poses to her.” Maks held his shoulders stiff instead of allowing them to sag in relief. “Your job will be to convince him and his people that she is yours and is under our protection as a loved one. He has to know that to persist in his efforts to punish her for her sins will do nothing but bring our entire organization down on him. You will take her out, flash her around in public—
our
public,” he stressed. “Heading off for a weekend in Atlantic City would be pointless.” His navy eyes narrowed, his look turning curious. “When was the last time you went on a date, Maksim?”

A
date
? He scrambled for an acceptable response. And was silent for too long.

“Do you ever take your women to the theater?” Vasily inquired. “To the park for a picnic? To see a play? A movie? For an hours-long dinner in a nice restaurant? Skating at Rockefeller Center under the lights of the big Christmas tree?”

A rash of goose bumps rose like shark fins on Maksim’s arms. “Not in this fucking lifetime.”

Vasily laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, according to my daughter and Nika, that’s the kind of shit they’re missing out on because of their men’s line of work. We’ll just have to assume Sydney’s likes would fall under the same category of what’s acceptable as an evening out, even though there is a slight age difference between her and Eva and Nika.”

“How do you know Sydney’s older than Eva and Nika?” Maks latched on to that rather than dwell on what he might be doing over the next few days. Which would be visiting one horrifying let’s-go-here-so-we-can-get-to-know-one-another bullshit site after another. Places he’d always avoided so he wouldn’t have to learn shit about his women. Get to know them and possibly like them? Which would, in turn, give them the ability to hurt him if they lost interest and moved on before he was ready to let them.

It had never happened. Because he’d never allowed it to happen. But everyone moved on, even parents.