Page 44 of Tangled Vows

Chapter Twenty-One

Ivan

Man, having Clare around is amazing.

Always willing to help me out. To feed me. Available for a chat and spend some time with me.

I don’t know what I’d do without her. Five days in Leonid’s basement? Confined to a bed? Battling pain for the first three? All this sounds like my idea of hell. My brother’s home isn’t bad, but I’m not the indoor type. I prefer cruising around all day, taking care of business and keeping everything under control. I hate being stuck in one place, and this was exactly what had happened to me. I was just glad I had someone by my side to make this experience less shitty than it was.

Dr. Yuschenko’s “okay” takes a huge load off my chest. I can finally get out of this basement. The only downside is leaving Clare. I was starting to get used to having her around all the time. Waking up to a beautiful, smiling face and listening to her feminine voice. I know I’m going to miss all this, but I’ve been sitting on my ass for far too long. These past five days seem like a fucking eternity.

Leonid and I need to tie up a very important loose end, something we couldn’t do during the time that I spent laid up. My brother sounded optimistic on the phone when he mentioned he’d come up with a plan to get rid of Simeone. Not confident, just hopeful.

That Italian has beaten us twice. Both of us have tangoed with death and have escaped it by the skin of our teeth. It was good to hear Leonid admit that we need to tread more carefully.

So, with darkness spreading across the city, I’m eager to know just what’s helped him get his hopes up.

There is peace and quiet across the marina as I locate Leonid’s yacht. I board a little boat and undock it, setting the rope down on the ground. I press the “start” button on the panel, the wind hitting me in the face on this cool night.

I’ve missed this feeling. I realize that now, leaving a number of smaller yachts behind. This sense of freedom is precious. I can feel the wind in my hair, droplets of water splashing onto my cheeks.

Once arrived at the yacht, I put the engine in idle, glancing at the reflection of the water across the side of our vessel. I disembark and grip either side of the staircase, a seagull’s call echoing through the air.

It’s strange, but the bridge is a little more crowded than usual. Leonid isn’t alone. I recognize Dmitri’s large frame along with two very attractive women. All of them face me; they’re smiling for some reason I can’t fathom.

“So, we’re having a party,” I say, a bit annoyed by the spectacle. “Thanks a lot, assholes. I’m still on medication—I can’t have a fucking drop of alcohol.”

“Always grumpy,” Leonid teases, reaching out. “Welcome back, brother. We missed you around here,” he says, pulling me closer. “And no, we’re not having a party. Yet. Dmitri, do the honors.”

“It’s great to have you back, Ivan,” Dmitri grins, raising his glass to me. “Leonid’s right—this isn’t a party. It’s just us showing you what we’ve got in store for that Italian fucker.”

“I’m listening,” I say in a stiff voice, stepping out of Leonid’s side hug.

“First of all, this is Nicki and Brandi.” He introduces the blonde on his left and the brunette on his right. These two can turn heads. Nicki is tall with a slender figure, her black mini dress bringing out her long legs. Brandi is in a white floral dress and more voluptuous than Nicki. Her plunging cleavage would have a man staring at her chest in no time. “They work for us. Tonight, they’re on a mission: draw Tommy Simeone out of his hiding hole.”

“That could work,” I say, shaking my head. “Where is Simeone right now?”

“Yuri called me just minutes ago,” Leonid replies in a more serious tone. “Simeone just checked into the Palms Hotel & Spa. We won’t have to do this in his apartment.”

“Nice,” I say, the news bringing a smile to my face. “We still have to know the number of his room, though. Dmitri...” I pause, turning my attention to our man. “What will the girls do exactly?”

“This is the beautiful part,” he says with a chuckle. “They’ll knock on his door and say they’re a gift from Don Pistone for managing to evade the Bratva.”

“And you think he’ll buy that?” I ask, doubt written all over my face.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Dmitri says with a shrug. “Look at them, Ivan. They’re so...”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I yell, not thrilled by the idea of listening to him describe what I can see with my own two eyes. “When was the last time you heard a mobster being so generous to one of his men? Our girls are not common twenty-dollar whores. They’re a lot more expensive, am I right?”

“Yeah.” Nicki’s got the balls to give me an answer that Dmitri won’t. “My rate is five grand per night. So is Brandi’s.”

“Thanks for your input, sweetheart,” I say with a half-smile on my face. “Simeone’s been around long enough to be able to tell the difference between a street hooker and an expensive escort. At best? He’ll kick them out. You don’t want to know the worst-case scenario.”

“Damn it, Dmitri,” Leonid grumbles, casting a nasty glare over at him. “I told you—your plan sounded stupid. Why didn’t you come up with anything better?”

“Here’s what we do,” I interject, not allowing Dmitri to offer us an excuse. “First, we get the number of his room. Then, Nicki and Brandi head up there. They act drunk and pretend they’ve lost their keys. Girls, you might have to get a little friendly with him. Nothing much—just a little touching and giggling so that he’s convinced you’re actually too drunk to find your keys. Leonid and I move in when the time is right. Is that understood?”

Dmitri nods.

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