Vicious Protector by Maggie Cole

21

Adrian

Three Weeks Later

Zamir is dead.No one is left. Every man who ever touched Natalia is now dust. I've felt off since we left Boris's rehearsal dinner to kill him.

Why don't I feel better?

It's still not over.

Kacper and Franciszek Zielinski aren't dead yet.

"The O'Malleys haven't finished the job. The longer this goes, the higher our risk," I state to Obrecht.

He gives me his no shit expression. "Liam will be here any minute. You want something to drink?"

"Sure." I walk out to the balcony. It's a beautiful spring day. Lake Michigan sparkles, creating a blinding glare. The waves are gently lapping against the shore, and the sidewalks below are full of pedestrians. "Your place turned out nice." Obrecht finally moved in a few days ago. He was out of town, but the movers handled everything.

He joins me on the balcony and hands me a bottle of water. "Yeah. Anna did a good job."

The buzzer goes off, and Obrecht releases the lock. Liam joins us on the balcony. "Nice view."

Obrecht nods then hands him a water. He motions to the chairs. "Have a seat."

"I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is not yet," Liam says then takes a swig of his water.

"It needs to be taken care of," Obrecht insists. "Every day they stay alive is another day Boris is at risk. We need the bones case closed."

Liam puts his bottle down and taps the pads of his fingertips together. It reminds me of Darragh. I'm not sure if it should comfort or scare me. There's no getting around reality. Liam is going to be the leader of the O'Malley clan. "Can we cut the bullshit?"

The hairs on my arms rise. "What do you mean?"

Liam's gaze darts between Obrecht and me. It feels like forever before he announces, "I know why Dasha is here."

My gut drops. "And what reason would that be?"

Liam leans closer. "I tried to warn you about Dasha. Do you remember that?"

My stomach churns. Time passed and life took all of us on different paths. But at one point, Liam and I were close. We did everything together. The moment I met Dasha, he told me she was trouble. I didn't listen. It eventually drove a wedge between us. Dasha and I got serious. Liam stepped into his O'Malley shoes. Neither of us agreed with how the other was running their life. Eventually, Liam ended up in prison, and I was married to Dasha.

I spout, "What's your point, Liam? Do you want me to say you were right? Will that make you feel good?"

Liam scowls. "No, Adrian, it won't. But I know Dasha is running drugs for Zielinski."

My skin crawls. I glance at Obrecht.

His jaw clenches. "How do you know?"

Liam sits back in his chair. "You two seem to underestimate me and the O'Malleys. We keep our enemies close. Now that Nora is an Ivanov, I have no choice but to watch Ivanov alliances, too."

"The Ivanovs are not aligned with the Zielinskis. Nor are we enemies. You know this," Obrecht seethes.

"Dasha Ivanov made a deal with those bastards. It is Ivanov business whether you want it to be or not."

"What are you accusing us of?" I snap.

Liam scoffs. "Nothing. But your ex is putting our families at risk. A threat against an Ivanov is now a threat against the O'Malleys. It is not in any of our best interest Kacper and Franciszek live."

"Then why haven't your men killed him yet?" I accuse.

Liam's eyes turn to slits. "While I understand your eagerness to eliminate our problem, there are logistics to handle. One of the biggest ones is to pin this on the Rossis, or did you forget our war?"

"Don't insult us," Obrecht growls.

Liam drinks the rest of his water. "It's happening soon. My guys will line up everything and strike when the time is right. We can't afford any mistakes."

"So you came here to give us no answers," Obrecht mutters.

"No, dickhead. I came here to tell Adrian to watch his wife."

"Ex," I bark.

"Your ex-wife is a snake. You know this. She's in bed with Zielinski. I don't buy she isn't setting you up. As long as she's using the Ivanov name, she better watch her back. We won't sit back and allow her to put targets on either of our families."

I wish I could stick up for Dasha, but I can't. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how she could ever get into a situation where she's sleeping then working, for a Zielinski, but I don't believe she would ever intentionally hurt my family or me.

"Dasha's been handled. Have your boys take care of those two thugs as you stated they would, and our issues go away," Obrecht demands.

Liam rises. "See, that's the problem. I don't have a good feeling about Dasha. It's the same feeling I've always had about her. There's just something about her. My gut says she's only starting whatever she has up her sleeve. So control your wife."

"Stop calling her my wife," I scoff.

"She's still using your name," Liam points out.

Time to change the subject.

"Yeah, well she's been told to stop. But by the way, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" Liam asks.

"Hailee."

Liam's face turns suspicious. In a firm voice, he asks, "What about Hailee?"

"She's a good person."

"Yeah, she is." He pierces his eyes into mine.

I narrow my eyes on him. "She's a bit innocent to get involved in your world, don't you think?"

He glares. His voice turns to ice. "Don't get involved in my business."

"Hailee's your business now?" My gut twists at the thought. I can't see Liam being anything but trouble for Hailee.

Liam's eyes intensify. "Yeah. She is."

"Shit, Liam. She's a kindergarten teacher," Obrecht mumbles.

"Yeah, she is—an amazing one. You can keep your nose out of it as well. Besides, I don't see you living a happy relationship life."

"Relationship?" I blurt out.

Liam's face drops. "God, you're such fucking hypocrites."

"Why is that?" I ask.

He crosses his arms over his chest. "You two sit on your high horses, judging me. I've grown up, but I've also served my time. How much have you served for your sins?"

The truth hangs in the air. I hate myself for it. Liam is right. Obrecht and I guiltily exchange glances.

"Thought so. I'll let you know when my guys take care of things." He spins to leave, but I follow him to the elevator.

"Liam."

He turns, his face hardened. "Don't talk to me about Hailee. I like her. I'm not going to forget about her."

My pulse increases. "Okay. What else do you know about Dasha?"

"Just what you do. If I find out more, you'll be my first call."

"Thanks. Why don’t we grab a beer sometime?"

"Why? Are we going to go back to pre-Dasha days?" He raises his eyebrows. The last time we ever hung out, he kept insisting Dasha was terrible news and I needed to break it off with her.

When I first came to America, I barely spoke English. Boris was already best friends with Killian when I met Liam. For some reason, we just gelled. "Probably not. I was thinking post-Dasha. That way, we aren't young, dumb idiots."

Liam takes a deep breath and nods. "Got me there."

My guilty conscience takes over. It hits me that Liam was there for me when I immigrated and had no friends. He's always had my back, even now. Coming out of prison can't be easy, and the penitentiary they had him in is one of the worst places on earth.

"I'm sorry if I'm a dick sometimes. And I guess I just lied. I would like to get back to where we were pre-Dasha...minus the young, dumb idiots part."

He chuckles. "Young is taken care of. I think the other part we'll have to make sure we don't fall into again."

"Agreed."

"Sounds good." We slap hands, he leaves, and I rejoin Obrecht on the balcony.

"If Liam knows about Dasha, who else knows?" Obrecht asks.

I sigh and glance across Chicago. "Dasha is a lot of things, but she wouldn’t intentionally hurt us."

Obrecht's phone rings, and he holds up his hand. "Tell me what you got."

A set of fire truck sirens blare through the air, and I watch them maneuver through traffic, along the river, then down Michigan Avenue.

"Do you know what the connection is?" Obrecht's voice pulls me out of my trance. He shakes his head at me while listening then asks, "You're sure he's an O'Malley?"

My gut drops.

"Okay. Thanks for the update." Obrecht hangs up and says, "Your hand tattoo guy who's following Jack Christian around is an O'Malley."

A chill runs down my spine. "Why is an O'Malley following him?"

Obrecht calls Liam and puts it on speaker. "We've got an issue we need clarification on."

"What's that?" Liam asks.

"Not over the phone. Where are you?"

"A few blocks. I can turn around. Meet me when I pull up. I don't have a lot of extra time," he demands.

"Fine." Obrecht hits the button and puts his phone in his pocket. We leave his penthouse and meet Liam as his car pulls up.

As soon as we're in, Obrecht asks, "Why is one of your guys following Jack Christian?"

Liam's eyes turn to slits. "What business do you have with Jack Christian?"

"We've been trying to find dirt on him. You?" I reply.

Liam's voice is deadpan. "Figuring out how to take him down once his company goes public and gets listed on the stock exchange."

"Why?"

"That's O'Malley business. Why do you need info on him?"

"He's in the middle of a divorce. Kora's representing his wife. He threatened both of them. I'm pretty sure his wife has already seen his wrath."

Liam's face hardens. "You need enough leverage for him to finish the divorce?"

"That's my guess, but Sergey wasn’t specific."

"Are you willing to share your intel with me? After you get what you need?"

I shrug. "Sure. I don’t mind seeing the bastard further destroyed."

Liam scratches his chin and thinks for a few moments. "You need to become a member."

"Of what?" Obrecht's eyes turn into his distrusting glare.

"There's a private club. It moves locations and events are pop-up style. Jack never misses. My guy can't get in because of his record. Neither can I, plus, I'm an O'Malley. They don't let anyone linked to crime families inside. It's mostly politicians and businessmen. But you two, well, you would be their ideal candidates. You've got money, and your name isn't associated with anything bad. Plus, it's easier to hide in a group than by yourself if you're trying to get proof of things while you're there."

"So it's a sex club?" I ask, my gut twisting. I went to one with Sergey and wasn't impressed. It's not the only one I've had to experience. It's not my thing. Sergey and Obrecht are the only Ivanovs I’m aware of who are into those places. While they are each into different things, I have zero desire to hang out in one. My guess is if Jack is involved, the females aren't members, unlike the clubs Sergey and Obrecht belong to. Strippers and prostitutes are something I stay away from. All they do is remind me of what the Petrovs did to Natalia. I know many aren't forced like Natalia was, but I still don't like it.

"Yeah. You get a notification an hour before your entrance time. If you don't arrive at the exact time, you don't get in. There's no other warning. Once you're inside, anything goes. You two up for it? I guarantee you'll get everything we both need on Jack."

Obrecht grunts. "Why do I have to get pulled into this? It's Adrian's assignment."

"There's another man I need dirt on, too," Liam admits. "As I said, a group is less noticeable than a lone wolf in these types of situations. Once you pound the hammer down on Jack, you won't get back in."

"So now I'm doing O'Malley jobs?" Obrecht grumbles.

Liam shakes his head. "No. We're exchanging favors. You got a problem with that?"

"What do we need to do to get a membership? Sergey's all over my ass, and I'm tired of my guys following this dickhead," I admit.

Liam raises his eyebrows at Obrecht.

Obrecht scowls. "Fine. Don't get used to me working for you. Who do you need dirt on?"

"Judge Peterson."

"Who's the guy with the hand tattoo?" I ask.

"Finn O'Malley."

"Who is he?"

"My cousin. He went inside the year you immigrated. He got out a few months after I did."

"What was he in for?" Obrecht asks.

Liam's face hardens. "Murder. You want me to set up your membership or what? The woman who runs it will allow me to vouch for you."

"But she won't let you in?" I suspiciously ask.

"My record doesn't allow me entry for a lot of places. Doesn't mean she's not in my pocket."

"Fine. Do what you have to do. Get us in. We'll get your info for you, but I don't work for you, Liam. Neither does Adrian," Obrecht states.

"Yeah, I'm clear on what this is."

Obrecht nods, and we get out. Liam drives off, and I turn to my brother. "I don't like exchanging favors with Liam, either."

"Yep, but you've had surveillance on Jack and are coming up with nothing. Do you have a better plan?"

"No."

"Then let's get in and get out."

"Fine. I need to go. I'm going to be late for my lunch with Skylar." I leave and walk several blocks to Skylar's office building. I'm almost there when I hear, "Adrian."

My skin crawls. I spin. Dasha's dressed like she's heading out on a date to a nightclub. She's wearing a short pink dress and stilettos. It strikes me as odd in the middle of the afternoon.

She tries to pull me into a hug, but I step out of it. "What do you want, Dasha?"

"Jeez, you don't have to be rude when we see each other." She pouts.

"Is there something you need?"

"I-I haven't heard from you. Obrecht keeps—"

"Yes, Obrecht is who you will deal with, not me," I bark in frustration.

"I-I got a call." She glances around us and lowers her voice. "Kacper called me from prison. H-he's still expecting me to go through with it."

"Yes, Obrecht told me. You need to stick with what we told you to say. You're working on getting access to our trucks and are close."

"Adrian, I-I'm scared. He sounded angrier than normal. Maybe we should go ahead and do one of the deliveries—"

"Have you lost your mind?" I shout.

"Shh. Keep your voice down."

I place my hand on Dasha's elbow and move her away from the sidewalk. "You need to stick with the story and do what we instruct you. Do you understand me?"

She scrunches her face and reaches for me. "Aidy, I'm trying—"

"Try harder." I shrug out of her grasp and turn. The first person I see is Skylar staring at us.

Great.

I meet her in front of her building, dip down, and kiss her. "My printsessa, how's your day going?"

She glares toward Dasha. "What does she want?"

"To annoy me." I put my arm around Skylar's back and guide her down the street. "Tell me how your day was going before you had to see Dasha."

She snorts. "Dasha's the icing on the cake."

I stop walking. "Oh?"

Skylar sighs, and stress fills her face. "He's never going to stop blaming me for the flop."

"When are you going to let me help you get out of this? You're talented. You don't need to put up with this," I insist.

"Forget I said anything. I shouldn't complain. Where are you taking me for lunch?" She smiles.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

I cup her cheeks. "Act like how your boss is treating you is okay. It's not. We both know it. Let's talk to the attorney. I asked Kora who we should talk to—"

"You did what?"

"I got a name—"

"I'll be blackballed from the industry. You don't understand how this works," she frets.

"It isn't going to hurt to have them review your contract—"

"No."

"He's taking advantage of you."

"It's not your business. This is where we draw the line, remember?"

Blood pounds between my ears. "It's not the same thing."

She scoffs. "Tell me what Dasha is involved in or where you went the night of Boris and Nora's rehearsal dinner. Give me one thing, Adrian, and then you can involve yourself in my career. Until then, stay out of it."

"I can help you."

She pins her deep-blue eyes on mine. Her voice softens. "I know you want to help. This isn't black and white. Let's change the subject."

I reluctantly agree, and we continue down the street. "Should we take the weekend and go through your apartment? I can schedule the movers." The last few weeks, our schedules haven't been clear for us to focus on Skylar's apartment. Her lease allows her to sublet, and she wants to decide what to move, toss out, donate, or keep for the renter.

She groans. "Bowmen's threatening to make us work. Can we tentatively plan?"

The nagging feeling in my gut grows. Every time we discuss moving Skylar's things into my place, there's some reason we can't. All of them are legitimate reasons, but I'm ready for her things to be at my place and it to be a done deal. "Sure."

We spend lunch in our usual banter. We each throw a few new words out the other has never heard. When I drop her off at work, everything is good between us, like it usually is.

The next few weeks, things are busy, but we carve out time to go through Skylar's apartment. When we finish, I survey the small pile of boxes. "I'll supervise the movers tomorrow when you're at work."

She smiles. "There's no going back now. I guess you're stuck with me."

I chuckle and pull her into me. "I was getting worried you didn't want to do this."

"Why?"

"It's been six weeks since I asked you to move in."

Her eyes widen. "We've both been swamped."

"I know. I still had to shut the voice up in my head."

She strokes my cheek. "I'm sorry. You should have told me. I could have done it after work or something."

I kiss her then admit, "Yeah, but then I wouldn't have had as much time with you in my bed."

She drags her fingers over my cock. "Would have been a tragedy."

"Agreed." I kiss her again. "Let's go home. I'll take care of the rest of this tomorrow. Then you can work on the subletter."

"Thanks."

I walk over to a box and pull out a La Perla outfit made of mesh. It's the color of Skylar's hair. "I don't recall seeing you in this."

She arches an eyebrow. "It's new."

I study the material and then check out Skylar. Her cheeks are maroon by the time I meet her eyes. "Maybe we should break this outfit in to celebrate you moving in."

Her lips curve. "Maybe we will."

I grunt and put it back in the box. The next day, I have the movers help me unpack everything. When they leave, I put the outfit on the bed. I have a few errands I need to take care of around town. Skylar won't be home for a few hours. I leave the penthouse and am just finishing up when Obrecht sends me a message.

Obrecht: Come over.

My gut flips. I head over to his penthouse. As soon as I get inside, I seethe. Dasha is pacing his family room.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"That's what I'm trying to find out." Obrecht scowls at Dasha.

"What did you do, Dasha?" I bark.

"Nothing!"

"Visiting Kacper in prison isn't nothing," Obrecht barks.

I step closer to Dasha. My anger ratchets up, and I ball my hands into fists at the side of my legs. "What did you do?"

"He told me I needed to come. What was I supposed to do?"

"And you didn't bother to inform us?"

"I didn't know what he wanted. I didn't want to bother you," Dasha cries out.

"You're on your own, Dasha," Obrecht claims.

She gapes between us. "I haven't done—"

"Haven't you? You slept with a Zielinski. You ran drugs for them. You told them about our trucks. Now you're going behind our backs and visiting him in prison? Do you think Adrian and I are stupid?" Obrecht growls.

"No! I—"

"What did he want, Dasha?" I ask.

"He...reiterated he loves me. He wanted to know when I was going to deliver on my promise."

I swallow the bile rising in my throat. He loves her? I doubt he knows what love is or gives a rat's ass about Dasha past what she can do for him, but they had that kind of relationship?

It goes deeper than I thought.

"What did you tell him?"

"I stuck with our story. I told him I was working on getting access to the trucks. I didn't tell him anything else, I swear!" Dasha cries out. "Adrian, you have to believe me."

My phone rings. I glance at it. "Get her out of here," I say to Obrecht, disgusted we're trying to keep Dasha alive, and she's making stupid decisions that could jeopardize everything.

Liam needs to come through for us. Until he's dead, Dasha's a bigger liability for us, too.

How did I ever trust her?

I step out on the balcony and answer my phone. "I'll be home soon, my printsessa."

"You weren't joking about supervising the movers. I expected to come home and have to unpack."

"If they put anything somewhere you don't want it, go ahead and move it," I reply.

"Everything is great, Adrian. So... I thought I'd make dinner? You'll be home?"

"Yes. Soon."

"Okay. Maybe I'll change into something a bit more comfortable since there's an outfit sitting innocently on the bed," she teases.

My dick perks up, imagining her in the magenta outfit. "Sounds good. I'll be home soon. Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye."

I go back into Obrecht's. Dasha is gone. He shakes his head, scowling. "What's Dasha up to? There's no reason for her to have visited him and not disclosed it to us."

"I'd say Dasha is a stupid woman, but you and I both know she's not," I add. A bad feeling claws in my chest.

"At least we were smart enough to put a tracker on her," Obrecht points out as his phone buzzes. He glances at it then me. "Club night."

My stomach drops. "I just made plans with Skylar."

Obrecht strolls to his bedroom door. "Cancel them. You know it's now or never. I need to change."

I groan then shoot her a text.

Me: I'm sorry, my printsessa. Something came up for work. I'm not sure what time I'll be home tonight.

Skylar: You'll be gone days or just late tonight?

Me: Should be late tonight.

Skylar: Okay. Be careful.

Me: Will do. Love you.

Skylar: Love you, too.

Obrecht comes out. "Ready?"

"I hate these places," I grumble.

"Tough shit.”

“Easy for you to say. You frequent these places.”

He slaps me across the head. "Where we are going is full of prostitutes. I don't go to those places. My clubs are all consensual, and you know that."

"Great. I'm going to hate it even more," I grumble.

"We don't have a choice. Let's go."

We have Obrecht's driver drop us off at the underground club. It's in a residential neighborhood. We pass the security guard, get let into the penthouse, and my skin crawls further.

The entire floor is full of debauchery. Strippers, dressed in skimpy outfits, also serve as prostitutes. We stay at the bar, ignoring their advances, and waiting for the judge and Jack to appear.

For several hours, they don't. When they finally arrive, neither takes notice. Jack comes in first. To get the pictures I need, it requires me to leave the bar area and go into the room Jack is in. He's so high on coke, he doesn't recognize me from our run-in on the street or even attempt to ask who I am. He and the judge are friends, partaking in activities in the same room. Obrecht and I play the part, stuffing dollar bills down strippers’ pants but not letting things cross that line. The entire time, I feel suffocated. I attempt to not think about Natalia or Skylar, but all I feel is guilt. Are these women forced into being here like Natalia was, or is this their choice?

Throughout the evening, Jack and the judge each dig their graves deeper. When Obrecht and I finally have enough on each man, we leave the club. It's turning light outside.

I go to Obrecht's and print off the photos I took. He goes into his room to sleep, and I text Sergey to meet me at my place. When I step inside my penthouse, Skylar jumps off the couch.

"Adrian, are you—"

She freezes. The color drains from her face.

"I'm sorry things took longer than I anticipated. I—"

"Why do you smell like perfume?" she demands.

My stomach flips. "I was working. I told you—"

Her lips tremble. "Your work involves lipstick marks?"

What is she talking about?

I glance in the mirror and cringe. Red and pink marks are on my neck. I pushed strippers off me all night as best as I could without blowing my cover.

"You've kept me waiting here all night, and now you have perfume and lipstick on you?" Her voice is full of betrayal.

"It's not what you think!" I growl.

"You must take me for a fool, Adrian!"

"You aren't."

She looks away then quietly says, "Who is she? Or they, since you seem to have had multiple lips on you."

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not seeing anyone else and I don't want to?" I don't mean for it to come out defensive, but it does.

She pins her hurt eyes on me. "Then tell me where you were."

"I told you, I was working."

"Where? Doing what?"

Silence.

"Goddammit, Adrian!"

I try to embrace her. "Skylar—"

"No! Let me go!" She grabs her purse.

"Don't leave like this."

"Then don't tell me to wait in your bed all night and arrive smelling like a whorehouse!" she yells.

"Skylar!" I attempt to pull her into me again.

She pushes away from me. "No. Don't try to kiss me smelling like whoever you just fucked all night."

"I did not fuck anyone."

"Goodbye, Adrian." She trots to the door that opens into the hallway with the elevator.

"Skylar, don't—"

She opens the door, and Sergey is there. He winces. "Morning?"

She pushes past him and leaves.

"Skylar!"

She gets in the elevator, and I slam my hand against the wall. "Shit."

Sergey steps toward me. "I'd ask how you're doing, but..."

I stomp back into the main room, shaking my head.

In Russian, Sergey says, "She's right. You reek."

"Thanks to your little assignment." I toss the envelope at him.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

My skin crawls for the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours. "I had to spend the night in an underground strip club slash whorehouse, telling multiple women to stop grinding on my cock, to get that." I point to the package.

He cocks an eyebrow. "Why don't you just tell Skylar?"

"That I was at an underground club getting lap dances all night all in the name of Ivanov business? Yeah, that would go over really well."

"It might be better than her thinking you were screwing around on her."

And now I'm fucked. She's going to leave me for good. No matter what I do, I can't escape the filth of this life."I need a shower. I'm going to burn these pants. Your evidence is self-explanatory. Give me something better next time. Let me break someone's neck or some other assignment that doesn't involve pussy juice on my new slacks." I leave Sergey, slamming my hand on the wall, and going into my bedroom.

When I throw my clothes in the laundry basket, the first thing I notice is the magenta mesh on top of the dirty clothes. My heart sinks further. I step into the hot shower and scrub my skin until it's red. When I get out, I'm no closer to figuring out how to make things right between Skylar and me. The only thing to my advantage is she lives here now. She can't avoid me forever. After work, she'll eventually have to come home. My only hope is I figure out how to make this right between now and then.