Page 49 of Brutal Promise

I stop walking and freeze when I hear the broadcaster say a familiar name.

“James Murphy, that’s the same James Murphy my mother dated.” I stare at the picture on the flatscreen TV. “James is older, but that’s him,” I say, sending Dmitry a wary look.

Hearing this, Dmitry’s face hardens. “He’s wanted on fraud charges related to a pyramid scheme, and the FBI wants to question and possibly arrest him. The problem is, he’s gone missing. What aren’t you telling me?” He closes the distance between us and grabs my arm. Under furrowed eyebrows, his eyes are darker than a moonless night.

“Nothing,” I insist. “I only know his name, I told you. He sang funny Irish songs to me as a kid. He didn’t stick around after Mom died. He didn’t even show up at the funeral.” I pull my arm, and he lets go without seeming to notice.

“Fuck. The men in the alley were Irish, too.” His dark mood lifts as he directs his rage back to the bad guys instead of me.

“What does it mean?”

“The Irish want you. That’s a given.” He tosses his scotch back and sets the empty glass on the coffee table.

He notices me shaking and pulls me into his strong arms. I lay my head on his chest.

“What have I done? I wasn’t supposed to be in New York City. I don’t understand why this is happening.”

“I’ll figure it out. Until then, I’m requesting more men. I’m going on the laptop Kirill gave me and booking tickets to Vegas. Now that we know this computer is compromised, I can use it to trick our adversaries into thinking we’re going to Vegas.

“I haven’t figured out how the Sidovo Bratva and the Murphy Clan are connected. It’s possible they both know of your existence. I’m here to find the missing money for Kirill. The money is being embezzled, and it’s worse than Kirill thought. Tito, the man who does his money laundering and IT, is covering the loss with bogus charges. He put the laptop together for me and made it powerful enough to hack into other systems. That’s how I realized my moves were being tracked. It won’t be long before Tito knows I’m on to him. I need to figure out who his accomplices are.”

I plop onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. Dmitry has been busy, and he’s learned so much in just a day.

“The MET Gala is tomorrow night. I have a dress being delivered here in the morning. Tonight, we’re going out to a famous place for dinner so you can pretend to be the happy bride-to-be. We need to celebrate our engagement, and the word will get out. Tomorrow, on the red carpet, pictures will go internationally. Then, we’re flying to London. It will be safer for us there.”

He kisses the top of my head.

“Is James still alive?”

“If he is, he won’t be for much longer. If he worked for the Murphys, he’s a relative, and he stole from his family. The penalty for that is death.”

“No! I exclaim in a muffled protest.

How could the nice man I knew as a child meet such a fate? Did Mom know he was connected? She had to have. She waited so long to have any man around us. I’m sure she checked him out. I sob for my mother, for James, and for myself. There is overwhelming evidence that I’m not safe around anyone other than my fiancé and Alena.

“Is Kirill safe to be around?”

“I think so, but I’m not taking any chances with you.” His arms pull me tighter to his solid chest. “Don’t cry. Your gorgeous face will be swollen. We’ll be fine. Take a bath. I have calls to make. You need to rest before dinner.”

I’m not good at taking orders, but I’m too tired and scared to complain, so I do as he says. The warm bath eases the tension in my body. My mind is another matter. I worry about James, or rather, Jimmy. Sure, he might have stolen from his own, but maybe there is a reason. I would love to find him and ask him if he knows who I really am.

The bath water grows cold, so I get out and dry off. With the large towel wrapped around me, I pad into the closet where I left my purse. Finding my phone, I text Alena to keep things about me to herself. I doubt Kirill is an issue, but I’m not taking any chances. I put on one of Dmitry’s dress shirts and slide between the cool sheets. I close my eyes, but sleep eludes me. My mind spins, worrying over what will become of James and if he’s put the Irish on to me.

18

DMITRY

Ishower and change while Izzy sleeps, her black hair creating a dark halo around her serene face. I’m an asshole for forcing her into my world, but there’s no other way to keep her safe. I can’t slay every soldier. Two mafia families are looking for her, and I don’t have the home-field advantage. If not for me, she would have disappeared, and I don’t want to take odds on her still being alive if that were the case.

I assume the Irish want her due to her connection to James Murphy. I can’t figure out how Tito figures into the missing money. Is he watching me in order to follow the money trail that leads to him, or is he collecting information on my whereabouts, or Kirill’s, and quite possibly, it’s about Izzy?

Love is brutal. It can be kind, but not in our world. We live by our codes, codes that make it difficult to navigate the world outside of ours. Our society worships money, just like billionaires who thrive on their fortunes. In order to be successful, we bend some rules and enforce others. The general public has no idea how this gets done and what we do at night. We all have blood on our hands and too many secrets to tell.

Izzy is the light in my world, a beacon of hope for a brighter future instead of certain death. My cock hardens at the sight of her. Her voice, filled with sweetness and innocence, forces the air from my lungs. She’s intoxicating. She’s independent. I fear she will always want to leave me. I’ve no doubt I’m the darkness that her mother wanted to protect her from. No matter how much her life is in danger, I’m a selfish man to take an innocent. But I get what I want. I wouldn’t be where I am today if that weren’t the case. We learn early in life to take what we want.

I look at her, and she stirs before her sleepy eyes open and meet my gaze.

“Dinner?”

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