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Lips pressed together was the man's answer. The only answer he could give, the man Chan's eyes, not his mouth.

"I didn't think so."

The dealer flipped over the hole card. A King of Spades. She dealt herself another card. An eight. Bust. He couldn't ask for a better end to the game.

"Ahhh...see that." Nik slapped the man's back hard. "We both win." He stood, his message delivered, nodded to the dealer and walked away, Pavel handling the chips and dealer tip.

The next move would be Chan's. If he continued to ask questions, he would be dealt with directly. No one messed with Nik's fiancee.

Five

"There are no winners in a war."ȄSergei Kaerta
Another early damn morning. Nik stalked through the casino, tired and annoyed. If this was one of Grandfather's chain-jerking power trips and not a legitimate emergency, he'd bust his elderly skull.

"What is it?" he asked as Pavel joined him.

"Chan lost three men last night, Boss."

Shit. That was bad. "Whose orders?" It sure the hell wasn't his.

"We don't know." Not a Kaerta hit. Nik expelled a relieved breath at that news. "All three had been asking about your fiancee."

Set up so Chan would think them responsible. "Gather as much information as possible."

That instruction was unnecessary. Pavel would already be on it. "Openly." He wanted Chan to know they were also investigating.

His head of security smiled, Pavel had as much brains as he did brawn. "Yes, Boss."

Yuri opened the door. Pavel stopped at the threshold. Nik entered. The smoke was thick, a sign of Grandfather's agitation.

"Grandfather."

"Three men." Photos were thrown down, black and white's of dead men. "That is a declaration of war. You do not declare war!"

Although Nik knew that, the restriction irritated him. A damn obedient dog. "It was not my call."

Grandfather narrowed his eyes. "Don't bullshit me,

Nikolay. They were asking about your Tatyana."

Nik sat down one seat away. "I'm not displeased they're dead." Joey Chan had been a pain in his ass for half a decade. "But I can't take the credit." He picked up the photos.

"You're being given the credit." Two rapid puffs on the cigar. "The other families deny involvement."

An unknown entity. Tatyana. A death curse. "And we will do the same." Three clean executions.

"He won't believe us."

He wouldn't. "I'll convince him." Nik would wait until Pavel gathered all the information he could, planting a seed of doubt in Chan's paranoid brain, then he'd pay a visit to ask his own questions. If this was a possible threat to the brat, he wanted to be prepared.

"Carefully," Grandfather warned him. "Chan has always been a hothead and since the incident with his wife..." A shrug. The man was unstable. "We don't want a war, Nikolay.

There are no winners in a war."

A big man slid into the booth next to hers. That was the third person to not-so-casually drop by to talk to her bodyguard.

Something was going on.

She came to that realization with this morning's phone call, with the way an exhausted Nikky threw on yesterday's clothes without showering, the way he stormed out the door.

He knew. Boris knew. No one would tell her. Arrogant asses.

That was why she chose to eat breakfast here, in the coffee shop, instead of in her room.

She wanted to be as prepared as they were.

"Your paper, miss." The waitress set it on her table.

"Thank you, Lucy."

Tatyana dabbed sour cream on her blini, a breakfast she hadn't had since her mother died, and unfolded the newspaper. Out of habit, she turned to the obituaries. She munched on the mini pancakes, reading. No familiar names. That, at least, was reassuring.

She flipped through, noticing that yet another huge man joined Boris in his booth. If only she could hear what they were saying. But, the coffee shop was noisy and they were talking so quietly, she couldn't.

Tatyana focused on the news. The President was in hot water again, the media gunning for him, a train derailed in Oregon, nowhere she'd been recently, protesters at the Global Summit causing a ruckus. Oh, damn. The paper trembled in her hands. There on page three, under the headline 'Nurse Brutally Murdered' was a picture of the admittance nurse, the one who did the paperwork for the pregnant woman.

Tatyana dropped her fork, her appetite gone. She knew what she had to do, her father having drilled the routine into her. She had to leave. To stay here would mean more death, would mean...Nikky's handsome face filled her mind. No, she had to go.

Now. Two dark suited men stood at Boris' booth, blocking his view. She got to her feet and walked slowly and steadily, with no eye-catching rapid movements, out the coffee shop door. She joined a group of noisy tourists as they moved to the bus entrance, her lack of height camouflaging her. The security guard at the door didn't give them a second glance.

A yellow taxi rolled past. She flagged it down, ran to catch up to it, and...

Her mouth was covered, her waist grabbed. As she struggled, she was tossed into a vehicle, face down onto a leather seat. She straightened. An Asian man around Nikky's age, dressed in a dark suit, wearing sunglasses in the darkened limo, his face severely pockmarked, sat across from her.

"You must be Kaerta's Tatyana." Boredom flattened his voice.

She didn't know him. How did he know her? Unless... "You must be Joey Chan," she guessed.

He nodded. Joey Chan, the man Maggy feared would kill her. Had death chosen her at last?

They stared at each other in awkward silence until finally he spoke. "No begging for mercy?"

From a man who killed his own wife? "Would that help?"

He laughed. "No." She didn't think so. Chan stared at her, tapping his fingers on the side of the car door, intrigue sharpening his face. "You're not as beautiful as I thought you'd be."

What the hell? "Sorry to disappoint you." Ass. Tatyana dismissed him and his insults, turning to look out the window. The doors were locked, quenching her temptation to do a secret agent roll right onto the pavement.

"I didn't say I was disappointed. More like...surprised. I thought..." He must have decided against sharing whatever it was he was going to say, as he stopped talking. The irritating tapping continued. "The baby?"

She swung her head back, meeting his gaze. "Dead." It was likely, by now. Weariness spread over her. Death had found the nurse; the baby would have been next, a life so short, she wouldn't make the news. "Didn't stand a chance."

A flicker of something in his cold eyes. "Boy or girl?"

"A sweet little baby girl."

His shoulders eased down. "That's something, at least." He was relieved, relieved because a precious boy hadn't died. Male chauvinistic ass. "How did you know her?"

"I didn't, or I wouldn't have admitted her under my name." Was that true? She didn't know.

It didn't matter, that decision in the past. "Nikky knew who she was, though." Nikky would also know who took her, as there were cameras positioned around the exterior of the casino. He'd be pissed and take action, putting himself at risk, getting his damn self killed.

It would be all her fault.

The man shifted, tugging down on his pant legs. "Is that why he stepped up security?"

"No. That was something else." Because she told him death was coming and even though he clearly didn't believe her, he didn't take chances.

Chan's chin rose. "Another threat?"

"Yes." Should she be sharing this? Joey Chan was the enemy, wasn't he?

"Another threat," the man mumbled to himself, his short blunt fingers tapping nervously.

He was nervous because he was going to kill her. Or have her killed. Would he do it himself?

Did Nikky do his own killing?

"This was a mistake." Chan pressed a button. The divider between them and the driver lowered. "Take us back." The divider rolled back up again. "Please express my apologies to Kaerta for this." He gestured to her. "To offset any inconvenience, the two of you will have a seat at my table tonight."

That was not a request. They were having dinner with the wife-killer. "Thank you. I'm sure Nikky will be ecstatic."

"She's back, Boss."

Back? She was alive? Nik turned, dazed.

"Bring her here, Pavel."

"Grandfather." He would go to her. She was back. Back. His brat. Nik had thought, when they saw her on the surveillance video, struggling, Joey Chan's man tossing her into the limo, he'd thought...

"In private, Nikolay." Grandfather puffed on his cigar. He had spent the entire morning chain smoking. "You don't want them to see you like this."

Like he cared what other people thought. "She's my fiancee." His. He thought he'd lost her.

"Showing weakness in front of others puts her at greater risk."

What a hypocrite. "If it had been Grandmother?" Wars had been waged over his grandmother, their tempestuous relationship a thing of family legend.

The cigar was crushed in the ashtray. "We are not talking about your grandmother." No one did since she passed.

"No, we're talking about my fiancee." His. "And I will kill Chan for taking her." If she'd been harmed...

"You will not." She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, so tiny, so defiant.

All his worry converted into anger. "You will not tell me what to do, Brat." He directed that anger at her. "You gave up that right when you left me." She left him. That cut him to the bone.

"For your own protection, ass." She looked absolutely beautiful in her Walmart t-shirt, black pants, and her hair loose and frizzy. "And I didn't do that so you could get your idiot self killed. You are not messing with Joey Chan. The man murdered his own wife, his pregnant wife. He'd kill you in a heartbeat."

"He messed with you." Nik stepped toward her. She left him to protect him?

"I needed a ride, he gave me a ride. I wanted to come back to you, he brought me back to you." She tilted her chin up.

He cupped it with his palm. She came back to him. "He took you."

"He made a mistake." That mud green gaze held his. She was the strongest woman he'd ever met. "As did I."

What was the mistake? Her leaving or her coming back? "You will not leave me again, Brat."

He kissed her, crushing her to him, reassuring himself that she was there, that she was okay. When his lips left hers, her eyes were soft, her body supported by his. "Never again."

"For as long as you want me, I'll stay...or until you die." A sad smile. "That could be first, Nikky. Death has found me."

"Not you." A snort originated from the corner. He'd forgotten about Grandfather. "Chan's men. What did he have to say about that?"

"Chan's men?" Her eyelashes fluttered.

Nik groaned. Those weren't the deaths she referred to. "Who else is dead, Brat?"

"Men," she repeated. "More than one. How many, Nikky? And who?"

"Three very bad men," he clarified, staring straight at Grandfather, willing him to remain quiet. "They were trouble makers, all of them, it was bound to happen."

"I didn't meet them?" She chewed on her bottom lip.

"You didn't meet them. It has nothing to do with you, Brat," he lied.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." Another lie, to reassure her. "Now, who do you think you killed?"

"Think?" She stiffened.

Wrong choice of words. "I need to know who's dead." They could have their much needed fight later. In private. Where clothes could be freely discarded along with emotions.

"The nurse who admitted the pregnant lady, Joey Chan's wife. He didn't even ask about her, did you know that? Only about the baby. And then only about whether it was a boy.

He's another male chauvinistic ass." Nik assumed he was also in that unflattering category.

He steered her back to the topic. "The nurse. How did she die?"

"Brutally murdered," she muttered into his chest.

That told him nothing. "Gun? Knife?"

She hesitated. "Gun."

Chan's men had been shot. "What type of gun? How many shots? Where?"

"I don't know." She frowned at him. "What does it matter? She's dead."

"It matters." It would help him find the bastard, keep Tatyana safe.

That got him an eye roll from the brat. Not that she appreciated it. "It's all in today's paper.

You can read about it yourself."

"You'll have to deal with Chan," Grandfather reminded him.

"You can deal with him tonight, over dinner, politely, like civilized men." She tapped his chin. "No killing, no threats, Nikky."

She invited the rival mob boss into his casino? "We are not having Joey Chan over for dinner."

"Of course not, ass." She gave him another eye roll. "We're having dinner at his place."

Grandfather chuckled.

A large stranger followed them to their room. "Where's Boris?" Had he been hurt? Was he still alive?

"He's been replaced." Nikky's words were curt.

In other words, fired. It was her fault. "No, he hasn't. He's my bodyguard. I'm keeping him."

"His job was to keep you safe. He failed. He's been replaced." Nikky slammed the door behind them. "Don't question my decisions, Brat."

"My bodyguard. My decision." She might eventually kill the young man, but she wouldn't be responsible for him losing his job.

"No."

"NikkyȄ"

"Listen to me, damn it. To me. They call me boss, haven't you heard that? Because that's what I am. The boss. Of everyone," he exploded.

"Not of me," she yelled back. Then she got an idea, a risky idea, but she wouldn't let Boris pay for her actions. It wouldn't be fair.

"Brat." Nikky approached her.

"But you could be." She tilted her head. He stopped, his forehead wrinkled. "If you let me have my bodyguard back, you can be my boss for one whole day." She gave him her best come-hither smile.

"You'd listen to me?" She heard the intrigue in his voice.

"I'd listen to you, I'd agree with you, I'd do anything you wanted me to do." She unzipped her pants, sliding them down. "Anything. I'd be your slave."