Page 14 of Savage Boss

“Doctor Coffman meant for a day or two,” Jane argued. “I’ll be up and about in just a few days.”

“You know that is not correct.” Vlad took the bowl from her lap and set it on the tray, helping her slide further down the bed as her eyes gradually grew heavier. He fussed with the blanket, covering her legs. “He meant for you to rest until the baby is born.”

“That’s too long,” she said with a yawn, rolling onto her side to face Vlad. “I have things to do.”

“Like what?” Vlad asked, squatting next to the bed so he could see her face.

She yawned again. “I have a new client; she needs me to find her missing husband.”

“You will have to give this one to Mack,” Vlad said sternly.

She shook her head, her eyes drifting shut as she talked. “He’s no good with women.”

“He’s good with your sister.”

Jane wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Gross.”

As she fell asleep Vlad leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. He could tell the moment she fell asleep. Her face smoothed into innocent lines, the stresses of the day drifting away from her.

Watching Jane fall asleep was one of Vlad’s favourite activities. She was so active and energetic that she usually fell asleep once her head hit a pillow, giving him the pleasure of watching the exact moments the lights went out. It was those moments when everything made sense to Vlad. When she made sense.

He stood, wincing as his limbs cramped. It had been a long few days and hospital chairs were designed to torture their guests. Vlad picked up her glass and filled it with water from the washroom, then set it on her nightstand in case she woke up thirsty.

He left the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, then striding down the stairs to his office on the main floor. Jane was not the only one who’d left work behind for a few days. The difference was that Vlad could face a significant loss of reputation and money if any of his opponents realized his focus was elsewhere.

Vlad wasn’t at all surprised to find Boris sitting behind his desk, leaning back in Vlad’s office chair, cell phone pressed to his ear, his voice hard as he talked to one of Vlad’s contacts. Vlad relaxed into the guest chair opposite his desk and listened in. It didn’t take him long to realize that Boris was talking to one of his more difficult contacts who had a time sensitive shipment, which should have gone out yesterday.

“The shipment will arrive as planned, same day, same time,” Boris growled. “You will pay exactly what you have agreed to for the privilege of using Sitnikov’s port. Once the package has been received you will thank him nicely. If you do not, then I will come for a visit and you will not enjoy that. You have heard of me, da? Boris Grekov?” Boris listened for a moment. “This is good. Then you know I make no promises I cannot keep.”

Vlad decided to pour drinks while Boris wrapped up his conversation. He lifted the bottle of vodka and raised an eyebrow at his old friend. Boris nodded. Vlad took the bottle and two shot glasses back to the desk, sinking back into his chair.

“You look better,” Boris said after hanging up.

“It was my wife who was ill, not me,” Vlad reminded him, pouring the vodka into the shot glasses.

“Could’ve fooled me, you looked like shit at the hospital, brother.” Boris let out a bark of laughter and picked up his glass. They held both aloft.

“Brat!”Brother. Boris downed his vodka.

“Brat.” Vlad drank his as well.

The smooth liquid slid a fiery path to his belly, warming him. He set the glass on the desk and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a few seconds, and allowing himself to relax for the first time in days. No, weeks.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said without opening his eyes.

“I know,” Boris agreed. “I came for another reason, something best discussed in person.”

Vlad heard the clinking of the bottle against the glasses and straightened, opening his eyes. “What reason?”

Boris didn’t beat around the bush. “Petrov is making noise about the death of his son. Wants reparations.”

Vlad snorted and reached for the shot glass. He downed the liquid and set the glass down. “I already paid the man. I didn’t owe him a damn thing, but I paid anyway. To keep the Bratva out of my territory.”

“Da,” Boris agreed, drinking his own vodka. “Doesn’t want money this time.”

Vlad understood. “He wants a head for a head?”

At Boris’ nod, Vlad reached across the desk to pour another round. Vlad wasn’t surprised the monetary compensation of Petrov’s son was not enough. Vlad had sent the man his son’s head in a box after the boy had kidnapped Vlad and threatened Jane’s life. Vlad supposed he understood. He would feel the same.

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