Page 22 of Marked (Russian Sinners 1)

“I think I’m shitfaced,” her words were stumbling.

My lips quirked into a smile. “Maybe a little bit.”

Her eyes looked dazed as they sparkled trying to focus on me. “I like your eyes,” she murmured as she closed her own eyes, leaning her head back on my chest. “You are so warm and it was so cold there.”

She looked so vulnerable, her face wet from tears, her body slumped against mine. God, her body fit right against me; she felt right in my arms. I reached down and easily lifted her slight frame. Her body felt so delicate and soft in my arms, but when she pressed herself against my chest, an alarming feeling swelled in my chest.

This was exactly the reason I needed to keep my distance from this woman.

I gutted a man when I was fourteen. While I tortured him for hours, I felt no fear, no regret… nothing. He tried to hurt Sergei, bragged to his friends he would make Sergei his bitch. So I hunted him down and ensured he wailed for hours. The neighbors heard his pleading, his promises he would leave Sergei alone. But letting him live would have been a risk. So I sliced his throat and let him bleed to death. I ensured it was known who did it and why. So they’d leave my brothers and me alone. So we’d be untouchable. The only benefit of being in Boris’ organized crime group was that nobody dared to go to the police and report us. Not that it would do them much good; half of them were dirty anyhow.

And here I was cradling Anastasia Manciatti in my arms like she was a fragile doll. I was known for being a cold bastard, never showing any emotions, and this woman was bringing all kinds of feelings out in me. It wasn’t smart nor good to allow her influence to happen.

I walked away from the pool and through the backyard carrying her in my arms. By the time I entered the house, she seemed to be sound asleep. I ran into Nikolai and Sergei at the stairs and both of them raised their eyebrows. Nikolai watched us, his arms crossed over his chest with a knowing expression on his face. He didn’t know jack shit.

“She had too much wine,” I explained in Russian although not sure why. “Nikolai, I need you to run another search on her background.”

“Why?”

“I want to know if she was kidnapped before.”

“What?” Sergei asked in surprise, sticking to Russian. “That would be some shitty luck. What makes you think she was kidnapped before?”

“Something she said before she passed out.”

“Do you think she was kidnapped by Boris or his people before? That she’s marked?” Nikolai’s question made sense. If she was kidnapped before and she got away, the same people would come after her. They would mark her as a target, spread the word on the black market, and offer a hefty prize until they got her.

“I don’t know,” I responded. It pissed me off to be kept in the dark. If she was marked by an organization for kidnapping, and they had been unsuccessful before, her father should have told me.

“Has either one of you heard from Vlad?” I questioned both of them.

He had tendencies to go underground and hide when he fucked up shit. I haven’t heard from him in almost two weeks now.

“Yeah, he came to the Russian Orchid a few weeks ago,” Sergei answered. “He pissed off the Italians. Again. You know, same shitty story. We shouldn’t give them business, we can do it all on our own. He’s hell bent on keeping business going the way it has been done for the past thirty years. I got tired of listening so I told him to take it somewhere else. He said he’d lay low in Naryan-Mar.”

“He’s starting to cause more trouble than he’s fucking worth,” Nikolai cursed low under his breath. I saw him glance at Anastasia to ensure he didn’t wake her up.

“Agreed.” Although my confirmation was clear, I wasn’t in the habit of turning my back on people for no valid reason, based only on a hunch. But all three of us had a hunch that Vlad was up to no good.

There was no doubt about it; Vlad was always sneaking around. He relished working on the black market and dealing with illegal smuggling. I warned him it was coming to an end and he agreed it was time to retire. The only thing that bothered me was that he agreed too easily. Vlad never made anything easy.

But when he betrayed Boris ten years ago with the last piece of information I needed to ensure he was permanently put away, I gave Vlad my word he’d be protected and taken care of when it was all said and done. Vlad was the only one who knew where Boris disposed of bodies. When I turned in the evidence against Boris, I wanted to ensure he got the worst possible sentence and all my evidence of fraud wasn’t enough. But fraud and murder was a jackpot.

“But we have to follow through with our deal,” I voiced my concern to my brothers. “We promised him a clean cut when he helped us put Boris away.”

A promise was a promise, and I didn’t tend to break them unless there was a valid reason for it. Although my trust towards Vlad was wary to say the least.

“If there is ever a promise to break,” Sergei added grudgingly, “that would be the one.”

I almost agreed with him but a man was only as good as his word. I would fulfil my promise and then put an end to all illegal activities. If the Italian’s wanted to get into it and take it from there, it would have nothing to do with us. It was about time my brothers and I enjoyed our lives and grew old in peace. We earned it through blood and sweat, literally.

“Unless he gives me cause,” I retorted dryly, “I won’t break my promise.” I ensured both of them understood that. They both nodded in agreement. “Nikolai, we should check if there is any connection between Boris and the Manciatti family.”

Both Nikolai and Sergei looked at me in surprise, asking in unison, “Why would there be?”

“He was the prosecutor, right?” Nikolai added. “I wouldn’t think there would be a further connection than that.”

“Anastasia asked whether Boris was after her family,” I explained to both of them. We were missing something here, I would stake my life on it. “There is a connection, I know it.”

---