Page 62 of Surrogate for the Bratva
“They can’t hear what’s going on in here.” And even if they couldn’t, I no longer gave a damn. “And they’ll be thrilled to tell all of Atlanta society that they were at the big mansion when that Russian gangster was killed.”
“That is true,” he smiled and nodded. “However I am a man who plans for multiple outcomes.”
“Let me guess, you have a plan to make it out of this night alive?”
Dmitry nodded. “I do. See, I knew that you were a clever fucker. And I knew once your brother was gone that you would be a formidable opponent, which is why I needed an advantage.”
Maxim stiffened beside me visibly and for the merest fraction of a second, I doubted him.
Dmitry smiled, so fucking pleased with himself. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering how I have been one step ahead of you.”
I had, hell I still did but I would never admit that to him. Still, his relaxed demeanor set me on edge. Even a crazy fucker like Voronov would show more care, more regret when face to face with a man who’s going to end his life. Yet he seemed unbothered. Unafraid.
He glanced down at his watch, and another smile appeared. “I have a man on my payroll inside your organization, Igor. Have you not figured it out already?” Laughter spilled from his lips and his head tilted toward the ceiling. “I figured you would have found him already and set him to meet his maker.”
His laughter burned. It pissed me off because he was right. My focus was on too many different things lately and this one had slipped through the cracks.
“It is all right,” he replied with a friendly smile. “I will give you a choice tonight, Igor. Rush home to your woman and your traitor and leave me here to live another night. Or kill me now and risk the end of her. The end of everything Romanov.”
Ivan.
It had to be Ivan who was the traitor. He was at the compound right now with April and therefore, the only way Voronov could possibly get close to her. My mind raced with the possibilities. He got stabbed when he went on that food run for her. I thought he had a lucky escape, but if it was a set up to remove him from suspicion, then of course whoever stabbed him would have ensured they didn’t hit any major organs.
Damn it!
I could pull out my gun right now and put an end to Dmitry here and now. But if I did that, chances were good there was some kind of code that would force Ivan to kill April.
Make a fucking decision!
I kept calm even as my heart pounded inside my chest. I resisted the urge to ball my hands into fists, to clench my jaw or show any other signs of anger or frustration. In the end I only had one choice. I had to save April. I had to save my baby. “Maxim, stay here with Dmitry. If he breathes wrong, put two bullets in his head.”
Maxim nodded but the uncertainty in his gaze gave me pause.
“Fuck that,” I stopped and turned to Dmitry. “You’re coming with me.”
His smile slipped and I knew it was the right call. “You’re going to kill me on your own property?”
“Doesn’t matter where it happens,” I answered honestly. “Because your body will never be found.”
Dmitry said nothing but he also didn’t put up much of a fight as we slipped out of the library and down a dark hall before we exited the garden and made our way to the street. “You won’t get away with this,” he growled, looking over his shoulder as if there was anyone who could save him now.
“Even if I get caught mere minutes after you take your last breath, you will still be dead. That will be enough.” That was a lie, I had no plans to get caught. Ever.
We made it to the car where I quickly wrapped Dmitry’s wrists in plastic zip ties to make sure he didn’t do anything foolish before I made sure April and the baby were safe.
Maxim drove just quickly enough to get us to the compound without a police escort and the minute we arrived, I rushed inside as my heart pounded in my chest.
In that moment as I scanned the foyer and the living room, I realized what this feeling was.
Love.
Chapter Thirty-Five
April
My stomach was full of delicious—and nutritious—food and my appetite was fully satisfied as I lay on my bed and got lost in a romantic comedy. It was too much, really, all the romance stuff but my hormones were all over the place thanks to the pregnancy. My feelings for Igor were impossible to ignore. He could be dead already for all I knew and here I was weaving fairy tales in my mind.
“Fairy tales,” I said out loud and snorted knowing damn well there was no fairytale where a Russian gangster was concerned.
