Page 27 of Disgraced (Russian Sinners 3)

Sergei

Ileaned against my car, tucking my hands into the pockets and watched her walk into her hotel. There was just something about her that appealed to me… her warmth, easygoing ways, playfulness. I couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

She glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes flashed in surprise. As if she expected me to be gone already. Truthfully, I wanted to walk her all the way to her room but I knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. She gave me a big smile and disappeared through the door.

I couldn’t wait to marry her and start our life together. I wanted to tie the knot so there was no risk of this arrangement going awry. After so many betrayals, abandonment by the woman I loved and parents I yearned for, I had become hardened. Irina’s betrayal sealed the bleeding cracks that started with my parents' abandonment.

My fucking parents.Eventually I did learn who they were, but I never shared it with anyone. Not even Dimitry and Nikolai. I was better off not knowing.

I stood there for another minute and then got behind the wheel. As I went to put the car into first gear, my eyes landed on Scarlett’s package that contained a morning after pill. I eyed it, all the while debating to call her. She forgot it. I knew she forgot all about it when I mentioned it to her this morning too. This must mean something, right?

Yeah, it means I’m a jackass,I scolded myself for entertaining the notion of chucking the package out the window. Instead, I shoved it into the glovebox and put the car into gear.

When I got to my office, ten minutes later, Michail was already there.

“Are you ready to meet with the Polish?” he eyed me, like he thought otherwise.

I went to my desk and pulled out my holster and a gun.

“I was born ready,” I told him and he promptly rolled his eyes. One of these days, I’d have to kick his ass. Today, I was in too good of a mood. Besides, I liked Michail. “After this meeting, I’m leaving. You’ll be in charge till I get back. Call me if anything urgent comes up.”

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked in a surprised tone. “What is more important than running your business?”

“None of your business,” I retorted dryly and he rolled his eyes again.

“Okay, whatever, keep your secrets. Let’s get this damn meeting with the Polish done. I can’t stand that dude,” he grumbled. “I want to beat the shit out of him. And his wife is no better.”

I agreed with that sentiment exactly. Bartek was head of the Polish mob, and the old guy Irina married. Memories of that fateful day swam to the forefront of my mind. The feel of the Maserati crashing through the venue, the sound of bullets whizzing through the air around us, the sound of men shouting in pain, the sight of the dead bodies that piled up around us, the pain from the beating his men gave Michail and me before Dimitry and Nikolai showed up to save our asses.

So a dozen or so men down, multiple broken bones, bruises, black eyes and a smashed Maserati later, I’d say Irina got herself an unforgettable and unique dream wedding. I sure hoped she was having a good time with that old, wrinkled body humping her at night. Although right now, none of it mattered. All I cared about was my woman, her soft body pressed against mine.

“Are our men ready?” I asked him.

“Yes, taking ten men.”

I nodded as we headed to our meeting spot, the warehouse on the outskirts of St. Petersburg. We pulled at the front of it, our men already surrounding us. I saw a few of the Polish standing in the front of the warehouse.

“Tell your boss we’ll meet out here,” I told one of them. “Such a beautiful day. Great weather.”

For a moment, I thought the idiot was going to object but then he decided against it. Smart. They reached out to me and wanted to do business with me, so it would be on my terms. As we stood there, both Michail and I unbuttoned our jackets to ensure we could reach our weapons quickly. Our men already had their guns pointed.

Neither Michail nor I trusted these assholes. We haven’t had any direct interactions over the last twelve years but they have been on our radar. We seized a few… okay, maybe a bit more than a few of their shipments. But only when we had credible evidence that they were transporting women. These Polish were part of a human trafficking ring, although we couldn’t find direct evidence to point to them. There was never a linkage between Polish and the ships to connect them. They have been careful to cover all their tracks. If I found hard evidence against them, I’d be the first one toleak it accidentallyto Interpol.

The warehouse door opened and I spotted him immediately. Bartek had aged badly, really badly. He was in his late sixties, or was it seventies. Who the fuck cared? He looked like he was eighty. I guess too much alcohol would do that.

It appeared like he wobbled as he walked out and then I saw her. Irina! He actually brought her to this shit. What the fuck was he thinking? She walked behind him, her head bent down, playing an obedient wife. But I knew better. There wasn’t a single obedient bone in her body. She was cruel and greedy. She had aged too, and not well.

Her husband stopped ten feet from me along with his wife, his men at his back.

“Hello Sergei,” Bartek spoke up, sounding like the oldSimpsoncharacter with a Polish accent. “I believe you remember my wife.”

Irina raised her head, her blue eyes meeting my gaze. She was still a beautiful woman, although worn out. Her blonde hair didn’t shine as it used to, her small frame was slightly overweight and she wore too much makeup. The best part was that I felt nothing. Not rage, not sorrow… nothing. And I knew it had everything to do with Scarlett.

I gave her a light nod. “Bartek, Irina,” I spoke curtly. “What business did you want to meet about?”

I wanted to keep this short. I couldn’t wait to pick up Scarlett and spend the day with her again.

“I heard you and your brothers are controlling shipments through the Baltic Sea,” he started, then paused, waiting for my confirmation. When I didn’t confirm it nor deny it, he continued, “I need to arrange safe passage for one of my boats.”

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