Page 81 of Runaway Queen

She brought a hand to my chest, pressing just over my heart, the place where the swallow was tattooed. “And now?”

“And now, I don’t know. They’re quiet, for the first time in years. I feel… calm.”

“If you’re trying to call me boring to be around, it won’t go down well,” she warned.

I chuckled at that. “When you’ve lived the life I have, calm is precious, rare. Calm has to be cherished, just like you.”

“Hmm, you’re pretty romantic in the morning.”

The sound of hurrying little feet raced above us. “I’d love to get a whole lot more romantic right here on this counter—”

“But you’re about to get a crash course in life with a kid, so brace yourself.” Sofia stepped away so it didn’t look quite like I’d been about to sit her ass on the counter and eat it for hours.

I took her hand and slid her ring back on. “This needs to be official as soon as possible.”

She blinked at me. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“No.” I shook my head, smiling at Leo as he raced down the stairs toward us. “I’m telling you we’re getting married, and soon.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she murmured to me, smiling at the incoming shape rocketing toward us.

“True, but I’m the asshole who will be your husband before the week’s out.”

* * *

I foundthe Russians in Portland. Bran and I had been watching their movements. The operation itself was frighteningly simple. Drugs, arms, and people were moved out of Canada, through Maine, and down into Boston, where they spread out all across the East Coast. Edward Sloane had relied on exiled bratva members to do the dirty, dangerous work for him, while he paid the police and customs to look the other way.

There were five Russians who had worked for Sloane. The leader of the group was a man called Andrei.

He was sitting eating with his men when I arrived at the bar.

It was dimly lit, despite being daytime. A woman was singing on stage. The entire place smelled like greasy fries.

Bran waited outside in case another car full of them should roll by. I made my way across the room toward them. They went quiet as I approached. I swung myself into the free seat across from the leader.

Dark stares fixed on me.

“And you are?”

“Nikolai. Nikolai Chernov.”

The stares only turned darker. One of them reached for his gun under the table.

“Don’t turn this into an argument,bratan. I’m not here to argue. I heard you were looking for your boss.”

Andrei took his time to answer. He nodded. His answer was about as forthcoming as I expected from Russians.

“Well, you’re looking at him. Sloane’s operation is mine now. If we get along, then your jobs are safe. If you think that you’d like to be boss over me, you can join Sloane.”

Andrei’s gaze fell to my hand. The new tattoo from thevorstood out against more faded ink.

“Palach. We’ve heard of you.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“Why would Kirill Chernov’s brother, avorin his own right, thepalach, want to take over a two-bit operation here?”

“New York is over,bratan, didn’t you hear? My reasons aren’t important, and it won’t be a two-bit operation by the time I’m finished. We’re done with moving people, though. It’s not my wheelhouse, and I don’t like it for our brand.”

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