Page 1 of Bound by Blood

PROLOGUE

“Hush little Laney duck, you mustn’t make a sound,” Dana Paul whispered against Laney’s head. Her British tones soothed Laney’s whimpers as her soft hand gently brushed the baby fine black strands from her daughter’s tear-stained cheeks. “I will tell you a story. Would you like that, my darling?”

Laney jumped and shivered as she heard shouting from the floor below them. The house alarm continued to blare. It wasn’t as loud from where they huddled in the corner of the closet. There was a panic room in the house, but the bodyguard had told Dana that it was cut off and had rushed them into the Laney’s closet for safe-keeping. “Yes please, mama.”

She knew Dana was desperately frightened, and storytelling was something they both adored. Laney was brave, even for a five-year-old, so she would protect her mom as best she could. She wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck, rested her head against Dana’s silk pajama-clad breasts and held her tightly while she spoke in whispers as the sounds of men dying grew closer.

“Once upon a time there was a girl who lived with her father. He was a wonderful and smart man that traveled to many foreign lands and taught English for money. The little girl loved to travel with her father and learn all about the different countries and their people. Eventually they travelled to a magical land called Japan. The girl especially loved this country and wanted to stay forever. The people, the culture and the history all fascinated her. Even after her father finished teaching and decided to move on, the girl decided to stay and go to college there and learn as much as she could about this magical place. Her father loved her very much and was sad to say good-bye, but he understood that they would one day have to part. He hugged her and said, be careful my daughter, if you ever need me, come back to me in England.

“The girl lived a happy but lonely life in Japan. Until she met a prince. This prince loved her at first sight, he swept her right off her feet. He promised her the world. He said he would make her a princess and chase away her loneliness. The girl wanted to love him back and she tried very hard, but she was worried. He didn’t tell her much about himself. He wouldn’t let her meet his family. He was very jealous if she talked to other people, men or women. Sometimes he would hurt her. Hold… hold her hand too hard and other things.”

“Dana!”

A man’s voice roared through the house, shaking the walls. Laney bit back a whimper and her mother flinched, holding Laney hard against her. They both shook and crawled further back into the closet. A man screamed in pain, this time on the stairs near Laney’s bedroom. Deep in her heart Laney knew that these sounds meant they would soon be caught. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she was beginning to understand her mother’s story had a purpose. She squeezed her mom, encouraging her to go on, knowing they didn’t have much time.

Dana spoke fast, her whispers taking on a desperate edge. “The girl tried to break it off with the prince, but he wouldn’t let her. He never left her alone. She decided it was time to take her father’s advice and go home, but the prince whisked her away to his castle and kept her locked up. She finally learned about his family and his life. She learned why he never talked about himself. He was a bad man. He did terrible, illegal things. He tried to do nice things for the girl, but the more she resisted him the meaner he became. Until the time came that he forced her to marry him.

“She had no choice, he threatened to send his castle guards to her homeland and kill her father if she didn’t. She cried and cried, but he refused to let her go. She thought about ending it all and jumping off the castle wall, but then something wonderful happened.”

“What, mama?” Laney whispered.

“The princess found out she was pregnant,” her mother smiled and hugged her tightly, “with a little girl of her very own. She knew that she would find a way to run away from the evil prince and back to her father, where they would keep the child safe together. She knew she couldn’t leave a child with the monster that was her husband. Not in the dark heart of the…”

The closet door wrenched open and light from the bedroom flooded in. The silhouette of a man stood in the doorway. He held a gun loosely at his side. Blood dripped from his hand and shirt sleeve. Shadows obscured his face, but Laney could see the glint of triumph when his eyes landed on Dana huddled on the floor, her arms wrapped protectively around a solemn, black-haired girl. The happiness reflected in their depths at having his family once more in his power. The wrath that would be Dana’s existence until he was satisfied with his vengeance on the woman he loved. The woman that dared to take their daughter and leave.

“Yakuza,” Dana whispered, taking Laney’s hand and standing to face the husband she hadn't seen in over five years.

CHAPTER ONE

18 years later

Blyad. No one is going to believe this bite-sized girl can take me down!Boris Grekov thought in annoyance, glaring at the fine-boned Asian woman standing across the room.

Something about her body language got on his nerves. She hadn’t even glanced up when he and Claudia strode into the training section of the security floor. She stood with her back to the wall, as any good bodyguard would, talking to Daniel Mercer and Tyson King. If she made it through the hand-to-hand combat portion of her interview, then Mercer, and by extension King, would become her employer. It looked like Mercer was drilling her on techniques. His face gave none of his thoughts away. Not that Mercer ever gave anything away. He was one tough motherfucker. Which was saying something, given Boris’ reputation as a lethal Russian mob enforcer.

Laney Paul should have noticed him. He was 6’7” of solid muscle. It didn’t matter where he went, people stopped to stare at him. He was well over a foot taller than the woman he was supposed to engage in hand-to-hand combat, and he probably outweighed her by 200 pounds. The absurdity of the situation should have warranted at least a glance from her, not to mention the fact that he was covered from head to foot in tattoos and generally considered one scary looking son-of-a-bitch. Hell, the first time Claudia Cantore, the woman standing at his side, had seen him, she’d nearly wet herself and scaled a fence to get away from him. Though she hadn’t in actuality moved a muscle. But he could see the impulse in her eyes.

Yet, this fairly nondescript woman hadn’t so much as twitched in their direction. Boris could feel his temper rising, along with his curiosity. He crossed his arms, making the massive muscles bulge ominously, and glanced down at Claudia. She grinned up at him sheepishly and whispered, “I thought she might be a little bigger.”

Boris grunted. He didn’t bother to respond. In reality, the woman would have to be built like a tank to take him down. Even then, it wasn’t a likely bet. Daniel Mercer was the only human in the western hemisphere likely to take Boris in a fair fight, which was why Claudia had begged him to help today. She desperately wanted a female personal bodyguard, but Mercer wasn't having one on staff that couldn’t prove herself in hand-to-hand combat. Apparently, none of Daniel’s men would touch a woman, which left Daniel himself to fight her.

Boris bit back a grin. Daniel wouldn’t break a sweat either, literally or figuratively, over beating up a woman. He would do the deed and move on to the next applicant. So, Claudia had called in a favour and asked Boris to come let a woman beat him up so she could have female protection. How the fuck he was going to convince Mercer that this bitty little mouse was able to take him on might prove to be interesting.

Boris was about to tell Claudia it wasn't going to work and that she should ask the Russians for something else, like an arms shipment or a small country, when Laney finally turned to face him. Her eyes flared slightly as she finally took him in. His eyes narrowed in return. Her look hadn’t been one of fear or even surprise. It had been recognition.

At a young age, Boris had learned to look out for himself and a brother that couldn’t keep himself out of trouble, which meant reading situations and people. Each nuance could mean the difference between life or death. He would stake his entire inheritance on the fact that Laney Paul knew exactly who he was. But she was a mystery to him. And Boris didn’t fucking like mysteries.

He stalked toward her, intent on finding out exactly who the woman was and what she was doing in his city. He didn’t like it. He could hear the slightest hint of an accent as she spoke. Japanese or something close. And something else? He couldn’t place it. And he didn’t recognize her. How would she know him? And why was she here?

He tensed when she moved away from Mercer and King and strode toward him as well. Their feet whispered on the training mats as the space between them disappeared. He stopped in the middle, forcing her to cross the distance to him. He kept his arms crossed, a thunderous frown on his bearded face as he glared down at her. Her own face remained as unfazed as it had from the moment he’d entered the room. He realized two things as he stared down at her. She was younger than he’d first thought, probably in her early to mid-twenties, which put her much younger than his thirty-six years. And that she wasn’t even a little bit plain, as he’d first thought.

The fine bones of her face were so heartbreakingly delicate that he knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her if they actually commenced with this ridiculous charade. There was no way he would throw a punch at that pixie-like arrangement. Her black hair was pulled back in two severe braids and tucked behind her pert ears. Though she tried to hide her body under austere, militaristic clothing, as a man that could appreciate curves on a woman, he could tell she had nicely rounded tits and ass.

Mine, his body whispered, noticing every detail.

The last thing he wanted to do was throw down with her. He wanted to throw her down and fuck her, then maybe he would get around to asking his questions. Boris was not one to get serious about women. He fucked around plenty with the whores at the clubs. He didn’t have time or patience for more than that. His life was complicated. Both here in America and back in Mother Russia. He couldn’t drag a woman into that shit storm.

Mercer approached them, eyeing Boris with undisguised dislike. Boris didn’t take it personal. Mercer didn’t like anyone. The fact that Boris was in King Tower unmolested by the deadly security chief was practically an endorsement of friendship. “Ms. Cantore explained what’s expected?” Mercer asked.

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