Sociopath's Revenge (14 page)

For a second, I thought about his family and how they would no longer have him to take care of them. My mouth filled with acid, as disgust threatened to push up to the surface. Emotions were a weakness. The moment quickly passed, and I pulled the trigger. With a thud, his body hit the floor, putting an end to the situation.

My men stood around us, and at my curt nod, they spurred into action, searching his pockets and removing anything that had to do with his identity or Bratva. Once they were done, a little man in glasses came forward with a black suitcase. He smiled at me, as his white-gloved hands inspected the body. "Pakhan, you can go. It's my job from here."

He was the cleaner, after all. Whenever we needed to get rid of a body or anything else, he was the one to do it. Misha Sukin. You didn't want to cross this man on the street despite his fragile appearance. He knew the human body better than anyone. How to kill it, shred it, and dispose of it so no one would ever find it or recognize it. Cleaner was a person who made sure no traces of evidence were left at the crime scene, so cops could never connect anything to us.

Sick motherfucker, but what a gem for Bratva.

"Money will be transferred tonight." He nodded and gave me a disinfectant cloth to wipe off the traces of blood left on my hands.

Vitya, Anatolii, and I walked out of the warehouse where a black Range Rover waited for us.

"Find out everything you can about his family and give me the file. Talk with Yuri." Yuri was our Kaznachey. He collected from all the businesses run by Bratva, and he was in charge of spending it. His authority concerning money was only overridden by mine. "We need to set up an account for them."

Vitya raised his brow skeptically. "Really? The fucker sold drugs to kids. I don't think we owe his family anything," he stated with a harsh glare.

I put on my shades and snapped my fingers, indicating the conversation was over. He was my friend, but questioning my decisions in front of anyone? No one had such power, not even Vitya.

"I won't repeat myself, Vitya." I got in the car, drove off, and ignored the image of black, haunted eyes staring back at me.

Rosa wouldn't have been proud.

Too fucking bad. Rosa would have to get used to it.

"This hospital is the shiiit," Rosa squealed and bounced toward the flat screen TV inside the VIP private patient room. She jumped on the couch, grabbed the remote, and put on some shit with music that made my ears bleed.

Dr. Andrews raised his brow and then turned to me. "Does everything excite her?" I almost laughed at his words, but my damn leg hurt so much I was afraid to make any unnecessary movements.

"Pretty much, yeah," I replied gruffly, as the nurse helped me place my leg on the prop, allowing it to be up in the air. Turned out, Rosa fixed my leg when it broke from the fall, but the bones didn't rebuild properly, resulting in my limping. Same shit with my arm. The orthopedic surgeon broke it again and bandaged it in a cast. The wound on my head wasn't really serious, and whatever Rosa had put on it worked enough to prevent infections. My chest had healed well after the bullet came out, but they explained the lack of my voice or at least why I couldn't really afford shouting anymore. The netting I was caught in had damaged some of my vocal cords, resulting in my voice being affected, especially as it wasn't treated immediately. At this point, they couldn't do anything with the scars either, but I didn’t care.

Relief washed over me, allowing me to take a deep breath. She gave me a cup with water and some painkillers, but I pushed them aside. Andrews' eyes narrowed. "Take the pills, Dominic. Your body can't be under stress all the time. I already have enough work with you as it is." I decided to enter the hospital under Dominic's identity, mainly because he had enough connections in the right places. Damian Scott was an introvert who rarely showed up anywhere; people knew next to nothing about him.

"Hey," Rosa exclaimed. "No offense, Doc, but I didn't have much training under my belt to do a better job."

Sometimes, I couldn't believe the transformation of the girl from the quiet healer to a never-shutting-up female. Her only excuse was her age. She was about to turn eighteen, but she needed to get serious and know the boundaries. Seemed like we needed to have a talk.

Andrews sent an annoyed look her way. "Young lady, please lose the attitude here." His eyes traveled back to me. "You want to be back on your feet? You follow my orders." Then his whispered words were meant for my ears only. "And between me and you? You'll be damn lucky to ever walk without a limp." With a nod to the nurse, he checked my vitals one last time and left the room.

As I gazed at the ceiling, the air conditioner running loudly and the sounds of machines beeping all around me, I closed my eyes, imagining my Sapphire beside me.

Had she been here, her hands would slowly stroke my chest as she kissed every cut and every scar. Her head would have been nestled in the crook of my neck as she breathed in my scent, allowing me to keep her enclosed in my arms.

Sapphire.

My Sapphire.

Andrews was wrong.

Luck had nothing to do with my fate, never did. Based on my past, luck didn't welcome me much.

Who the fuck cared, though?

Whatever I wanted in life, I got.

And I wanted nothing more than to walk toward my woman as she greeted me with love in her eyes.

Sapphire

My body still shook from his touch as shivers ran down my spine. My lips were swollen from his kisses, and my skin felt like it was on fire. I couldn't imagine a woman who could resist a man like him, especially since I discovered I totally dug his beard, which felt heavenly against my skin.

Calming my rapidly beating heart and wiping my sweaty hands on my shorts, I started for the living room, where Damian sat on the couch listening to Kristina sing upstairs. That meant we had approximately five minutes before she showed up here, racing like crazy with her dog on her heels. Funny how Lucky was only a part of our routine for one night, but I could pretty much predict his crazy ways.

"What's with you and purple?" Rosa questioned, as her fork snagged a bite of cake. Swinging her leg back and forth, she occupied the kitchen chair, one leg on the floor while the other was under her. "Literally everything is that color."

Shrugging my shoulders, I poured myself some soda. "That's my favorite color, and
since it's my house
," I emphasized, "I do as I please."

She raised her hands in defeat. "Okay, okay. Geez. Chill. You're almost as bad as mister grumpy here. You should have seen him when I nursed him back to health. Freaking annoying." I blinked several times, and my jaw almost hit the floor with her admission.

Damian was by my side in an instant. "Sapphire."

I took a step back, crossing my arms across my chest. "She did what?" So it meant the chick saw him naked because that was involved with tending wounds, right? She touched his skin, slept next to him?

The green-eyed monster that took me hostage earlier came back viciously, just when I decided to accept her presence in our lives despite the less-than-warm welcome from her. God, what was going on with me being possessive and obsessive? Was it rubbing off on me from Kristina and Damian? How did they live with those crazy feelings?

"Yes, she was the one who saved my life." His jaw ticked as his eyes narrowed on me. "Would you have preferred me to die?"

His words were like a bucket of cold water poured on me, and we both stilled. His hand tried to touch me, but I leaned away from it. "For me, you did die, didn't you?" I whispered, and something like agony and regret flashed through his eyes, but we were interrupted by Rosa yet again.

"'Sapphire.' That's what he kept saying while both unconscious and conscious. You were all he thought about all the freaking time. Nothing much has changed now. But as I look at you, you're both crazy." She chewed her cake and murmured, "Your kid is here by the way." We both turned to Kristina at the stairs, her eyes watching us curiously.

Okay, you aren't a scorned woman right now. You're a mama, so act accordingly.

Plastering a smile on my face, I walked to her, picked her up, and placed her onto my hip, smelling the toothpaste in her mouth. "All done?" She nodded, and we plunged onto the couch as she giggled. Damian still stood in the kitchen, so I motioned with my hand for him to come closer, and in an instant, he was there, settling on the chair at Kristina's other side. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, my fingers raised her chin so we could hold eye contact. "Honey, there is something we need to talk about with you." Nervousness hit me like a ton of bricks, and I withheld the desire to bite my nails. I wasn't sure how people advised breaking news to your child, but knowing my kid, telling her the truth straight up was probably best. "Munchkin, this is Henry." Using his fake name for now would do; we couldn't risk our safety no matter what. Once she got to know the truth, we could be open with her as much as we wanted. She rolled her eyes.

"I know, Mama; he's the good neighbor who gave us Lucky and bought me toys." His face darkened, clearly not liking his description much.

"Right, baby. But you see… he isn't just a neighbor." Taking a deep breath, I found the strength for this conversation, fully knowing how important and life changing for my child it was. "He's your daddy." She froze, her sapphire eyes widening as her gaze shifted from me to him, confusion written all over her face. "Remember how I told you that Daddy had to go away? Well, he did, and he is back. And he would love to be your daddy." Silence fell over the house after my words. Even Lucky whimpered and lay down at my feet, his paws covering his muzzle.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound of the kitchen wall clock grated on my nerves, and I was ready to hit it with something when Kristina spoke up at last. "Where were you all this time?"

Damian gulped, kneeled in front of her, and answered gently, his watchful eyes catching any reaction she had. "I had to fix some things before I could come back to you and your mama, but I missed you every day." Their eyes were locked on each other for several moments while I was afraid to breathe, not really knowing how to support my baby in this. It was hard to come up with the perfect solution for a situation you never anticipated.

Kristina leaped at him, circling her small arms around his neck and clutching him tightly, while he wrapped his arms around her middle. His hands fisted behind her with the depth of emotions he was experiencing. I barely held my tears at bay, because what mother didn't secretly dream of seeing her daughter being loved so much by the man who helped create her? "Don't go again, Daddy. Everyone thinks I'm a freak."

My brows furrowed; my anger spiraled at this information. "Who thinks you are a freak, munchkin?"

She rested her cheek on his shoulder and shrugged. "Ruby and Adelaide said everyone has a daddy when I told them I didn't. They think it's impossible not to have one, so they called me that. Even Jason." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Who had a crush on a boy who said such things? "What does it mean, Mommy?"

Damian's face transformed to murderous as he rose with her in his arms and looked at her. "I won't go away." Then his eyes briefly met mine. "Not again." Another promise he intended to keep, but I looked away, not ready to talk or think about us.

"Could you read me a bedtime story, Daddy?"

His mouth spread in a happy grin when she called him that, and he nodded. "Sure, baby girl."

She wiggled in his arms, so he put her back on her feet, and she hugged me. "Mama, goodnight. Daddy will put me to bed." Then she waved to Rosa. "We can go shopping again tomorrow!" She high-fived her in the air and then dragged Damian upstairs, an eager Lucky on their heels.

I settled deeper into the cushions, closed my eyes, and rubbed my forehead to soothe the tension still running inside me. That was it? No tears, no further questions? She just accepted it and immediately decided to make him part of her routine. Was it normal? And more importantly, why hadn't I noticed that she somehow suffered from the lack of a father figure in her life? Why wasn't there a book that taught you how to be a perfect parent? This situation felt anticlimactic for sure. I'd expected another reaction.