Page 2 of Delicate Angel

“Continue driving around. Once I have another address for you, I’ll let you know.”

“Yes, sir,” my driver tells me and pulls out onto the street.

As he mindlessly drives around, my thoughts drift back to the old man who took my brother in the first place.

“Tell me where he is!” I scream at the old man while I wrap my hands around his neck with an iron-tight grip. I hold it until his face turns from red to a purplish color, and then I release it.

He gasps with all his might, trying to gain his breath back. “You could make this a bit easier on yourself and give me the information I want.”

“B-bastard,” the man coughs, glaring at me with hatred in his eyes. His glares and curses won’t help him one bit.

“I found the photograph of you with my father in the militia,” I state, trying to take an alternate angle. I’ve been the brute. I’ve been the ruthless bastard. I’ve been the man who’s made it very apparent he won’t make it out of this alive unless he gives me a piece of information I find invaluable. Just then, I might let him walk away. At least, it’s how I’ve presented it to him, but I won’t ever let this man walk away. He mutilated my brother and put him through unimaginable hell. I’ll never let this man walk free. He will never see the light of day again.

The man’s gaze drops, and then he looks up at me. “You have all the answers then.” He coughs over and over again. I close my fist and clock him right in the side of the face. He falls onto the ground and struggles to get off the cold concrete.

“Where is Anzor?” I snarl at the old man, hitting him again and again and again. He now stays on the ground and begins laughing manically.

“Wouldn’t you like to k-know?” He coughs, spitting blood onto the floor.

“You made a grave mistake going against the Umarova family. Do you realize that?”

“I’m with the Umarovas, following Anzor’s direction.” He smiles at me like the devil has just taken hold of his body. Sinister, malicious, and downright evil.

“You have no idea how stupid you sound. Anzor isn’t an Umarova. He isn’t an Umarova at all. He’s a fraud. A faux. A fake. He’s a man who took control of something he never had the right to in the first place. He’s powerless, nothing more than a man who thinks he’s useful. He has no allies. He’s all alone, and I will find him.”

“If he has no allies, then why is he in Boston? He is more powerful than you will ever know and has the right to rule your pathetic family.”

“Oh, so he’s in Boston, huh?” I’ve got the bastard right where I want him.

“No, I’ve only said it to confuse you, idiot bastard. Anzor will kill you. He’ll kill you all.” The old man laughs, and I’ve about had it with his bullshit. I pull my Glock from the back of my pants, aim it at his head, and pull the trigger.

The old man wanted to trick me. He wanted me to believe he was throwing me off my game, but I knew he had slipped up. I saw the fear in his eyes when he realized he’d ratted out the whereabouts of his true leader. He knew he wasn’t valuable anymore, but worse than that, he knew that I knew he fucked up.

Some days, I regret not keeping him alive. Sometimes I wanted to know what other information he had, but I was growing tired of his bullshit. I was tired of the games he was playing with me, the games he was playing with my family. I wanted to send a message to anyone who needed it: When you fuck with the Umarovas, you die.

I hope I get a hit on Anzor soon. I want to leave Boston, but not just because I’m not too fond of the city. I want to lay my eyes on the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I want to see her thick brown curly hair. I want to wrap my hands in her locks, the same locks that stop on her mid-back. I want nothing more than to reunite my lips with hers, even if I know better. Even if I know getting involved with her could create a problem with my brother.

The woman I adore is none other than my brother’s girlfriend’s cousin. My brother, Ruslan, adores his woman. He adores her so much I think he just might murder me if I was the reason Emily ended up with a broken heart.

I’ve flirted with her time and time again, and every time I see her, I can barely tear my eyes away from her. She’s a vision, yes, but she has an intelligence I haven’t found in most women.

I told myself not to cross a line with her because I knew the threat she posed to my relationship with my brother. I know if I hurt her, my brother will never forgive me because, in extension, it’ll hurt Amelia too.

I’ve had her within my grasp when she was in Grozny with Amelia when Ruslan was rescued from the bastard I just put in the ground. I somehow managed to control myself for the most part. I kissed her, but I didn’t dive deep into that sweet place between her legs like I wanted to. I controlled myself, but I didn’t want to control myself any longer.

Emily is the type of woman you don’t find too often, and I’m taking what I want.

Chapter One

Emily

Present Day

I slept through my alarm, which isn’t usual for me at all. In fact, I’m notorious for being a light sleeper. If the wind blows the wrong way, I’m awake, and I’m frustrated I slept this late. I was supposed to be video chatting with Amelia and Karim thirty minutes ago, so as I’m running around the apartment, I tap the button on my phone to call her.

“Well, you’re late. What’s going on with you?” Amelia cackles in the background, and I glance down at the screen.

“I overslept. Slept right through my alarm, actually. As you can tell, I’m not ready at all, so you and sweet Karim are going through my morning routine with me,” I tell her as I have my hair in a messy bun on the top of my head. I’m still in my pajamas.

---