Page 38 of Thorns of Lust
Lovely! That certainly boosted my ego.
“You tell me,” I retorted wryly. “Did we meet?”
“Whatever.” She waved her hand, as if my answer didn’t matter. “Anyhow. Thank you, I guess.” I cocked my eyebrow.
“You guess?”
“Like I said, I could have handled him,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes on me. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”
She shifted between her feet. The woman was smart enough to know she couldn’t have overpowered him.
“Go home.” I needed her and that scent of roses to be gone before my control snapped and I touched her.
A terse nod and she hurried away from me. My attention remained on her until she rounded the corner. The moment she disappeared from my view, I called Nikita. He answered on the first ring.
“Follow her and make sure she gets home safely.”
“Got it, Boss.”
My driver, Lenosh, showed up next and stopped at the end of the alley, blocking the view. Boris, my second-in-command and my driver jumped out, both eyeing the man sprawled on the ground.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Boris asked. “The Nikolaev brothers won’t be happy if they find us in their territory.”
I shrugged. “They start shit, I’ll take it all from them. They need to be reminded it was my family’s territory before it was theirs.”
They were here by the grace of my old man. He didn’t want this territory after snatching my mother and marrying her. So he tipped Nikola Nikolaev. My old man even sponsored him. I’d honor the agreement, but I had to get my hands on that chip. If that shit ended up in the wrong hands, like Interpol or the FBI, it would be bad.
For everyone, including the Nikolaevs.
Never mind if our enemies got their paws on it. We’d all go down. Just the thought of Sofia Volkov getting her hands on a piece of information like that would send a ripple through the underworld. That crazy, vindictive bitch would destroy us all.
After all, it was my father who overtook her husband. The old Volkov was the Pakhan but he was weak, losing territories to the Italians, French, Greek. So my old man swept in like fucking Alexander the Great, with the backing of Thorns of Omertà, and became Konstantin the Great.
Yeah, I was well aware of the fucking irony.
“Definitely trouble on the horizon,” Boris, my second in command, muttered. He jogged over to me, picked up the body, and returned to the vehicle, throwing the unconscious body into the trunk before tying him up.
Once we were back in the car, the driver sped up. Boris retrieved his phone, scrolling through it quickly. Probably checking on any potential hackers, and then there was the fact that we hacked into Nikolaev's network.
My attention was zeroed in on the surroundings and my whole body tensed as we passed Tatiana, her steps slightly unsure as she headed back towards her penthouse. Disappointment washed over me when she didn’t look over. I was so damn obsessed with the woman, and she couldn’t even remember me.
But by the time this was over, she’d remember me. Every fucking touch. Every word. Everything.
She had gotten thinner, but her features were the same - delicate, beautiful and so fucking tempting. How could have she mistaken me for Adrian? I fucking lived for those sounds she made. Those moans were impossible to erase from my memory, no matter how hard I tried.
I shook the image out of my head or risked getting a hard on. It was hardly the right time.
Instead, I called up a connection I knew wouldn’t rat to Marchetti. The famous, rather infamous, Bitter Prince.
Amon Takahashi Leone.
The second-in-command of the Yakuza organization, not just a branch in a certain country but in the world. Truthfully, he should be the head of it. He only had to seize it. He was the only man who had connections to Yakuza and indirect connection to Marchetti. Maybe Enrico had had enough waiting. Although I’d hope he’d give me the courtesy of a goddamn notice.
He answered on the third ring. “Yes.”
“Did you send the Yakuza after Tatiana Nikolaev?” I growled.
If he had, I’d wipe him off this planet. Regardless of how much I admired the fucker and how much he accomplished.
