Taken By the Bratva Boss by Sarina Hart

Chapter Twenty-Two

Leon

Like the pathetic piece of shit I am, I sat outside the door to her cell all night. Listened to her pray to God to save her. Adrian checked on me after he finished the tasks I asked of him while I sat. He probably spent a few hours after he left laughing at the heartsick fool I’ve become.

Maybe I should’ve taken her to the house, to the basement with its reinforced walls and its soundproofed panels. But I couldn’t take a chance on Anna seeing her. Smelling her perfume. Or hearing something she shouldn’t. And if I have to kill Olivia, I need to do it in a place where I don’t sleep at night. Where the sound of her death won’t haunt me every minute of every day until I die from it. I can burn the warehouse. I wouldn’t be able to explain to Anna why we had to destroy the house.

By morning, when the sun rises, I’m still furious and now stiff on top of angry and ashamed of the weakness inside of me for this woman. A hundred times through the night, I had to talk myself out of letting her out, out of taking her in my arms and holding her while she cried, of opening the door and setting her free so long as I never had to see her again, of begging her to forgive me for what I’ve done.

Lesser men would’ve crumbled under the pressure. I am not lesser.

Not in the light of day, anyway.

I’ve moved operations to the warehouse for the day because I need to be here with her. I tell Adrian it’s so I can watch her. But his news this morning only reinforces what I already know. Jacob Miller has to die, even though it will kill Olivia to know it happened. I have no choice.

“McGrath and Flinn visited the kid last night. They made a plan.” Even if we didn’t have Flinn on the inside, Adrian put listening devices all over the kid’s place. “He doesn’t know you have the girl.”

“Good.” And because I’m a masochist, I walk to the door and knock. “Did you fucking hear that, Olivia? Your boyfriend isn’t coming for you.”

She doesn’t answer, and I don’t expect her to. When I let her out to use a toilet in the defunct restroom earlier, she didn’t look at me. Didn’t even bother trying to lie anymore.

“Jesus, Leon. What the hell is wrong with you. Just end her and get it over with so we can move the fuck on and take care of Connor without you risking all of us with your distraction.” His voice bites, and I’m so fucked I take his throat in my hand and push him into the door between me and Olivia.

“What did you just say?”

He holds up his hands as his eyes bulge. I let him go, and he shakes his head. “The fuck, Leon?”

“What else?” I can’t speak more than that. I’m angry and humiliated that he’s seeing me this way. And it’s her fault. Her doing.

And mine.

“They’re going to ambush you at a meeting he wants the kid to set up.” Adrian looks at the door behind my back, glares like he can see the woman behind it. I can’t deny the effects of having her here. It’s too visible and I’m not handling it well. I’m erratic and off-balance. Because of her. Another reason to hate her. And I want to hate her.

Am failing at it.

I switch my focus from her to him and his news. Again.

“Did Flinn tell you all this?” I need to know Flinn is on our side. Otherwise, all the information he’s given us is suspect.

Adrian nods, his hand still rubbing his neck. “Yeah. He called after the meet, but we already knew.”

I blow out a breath. I can’t risk weakness. Not in front of anyone but Adrian. Besides my mother when I was a child before she died, he’s the only person I’ve ever trusted completely. Not even Igor was as close as Adrian.

“If I decide to kill her”—the thought causes a physical pain in my gut and I lay my hand over it—“and I can’t, I’ll need you to do it.”

“I’ll do it right now. If you need.”

Before I can answer, my cell rings. It’s the little bastard. I look at Adrian and let it sound a couple times. “Jacob.”

His name is bitter in my mouth.

“Leon. I intercepted a communication between Connor McGrath and one of his gun runners.”

I don’t scoff though I want to. “Go on.” I sound too eager. I have to pull it back, so he doesn’t run back to McGrath with a suspicion that’s my fault.

“Yeah, it’s at, um…it’s at…” He stammers through the details, and I let him because I can’t very well tell him we already have the information. I need the kid to be as unsuspecting as his boss because, while I will do whatever it takes, I don’t want to waste my energies on the chase. I want to save them for the kill.

Adrian leaves me at the warehouse because I demand it, because I need him to pick up the weapons I’ll need before we go to the meeting with McGrath. I want him to put everything in place.

Mostly I stay because I’m weak, and she’s made me that way. I curse my weakness even as I sit on the hard concrete outside the door and listen for the curses of my name, the sobs, the fear. But she is silent.

“Olivia?” She’s still quiet. Probably so relaxed she’s sleeping because I’ve lost my edge. She doesn’t fear me because she knows I’m neutered thanks to her. Rage powers through me so when I speak, my voice is low, lined with threat. “I brought you into my home.” Because even then she was a bitter woman who hated me for crimes I didn’t commit. “You lied to me.” Men have died and women have suffered for less.  But she’s reduced me to shit. To an immobile pile of nothing but waste. “And even now, I can’t kill you.”

I don’t speak more.

“I never lied to you.” Her voice is quiet. Soft. The same one she’d used to talk me into her bed. “I love you, Leon.”

For all the good it will do her. I can’t undo what she’s done.

“I love Anna.” I swallow against the rush of emotion as images of them, of Anna’s smile when she came into my office and sat in front of my desk with her hands folded in her lap, when she told me I had her permission to marry Olivia. Before I ever knew…

Anything.

“I would never do this to you, what you think I’ve done. I could never betray you.”

A thief will steal, and a liar will lie. It’s who they are. And even as the ice in my heart chips away because part of me believes her, as the anger fades from a deep merlot to a slightly lighter shade of crimson, I can’t let go. The jealousy is as powerful as the anger. I saw her belongings in his room. In his house. If she wasn’t colluding with him, she was fucking him. Neither was forgivable.

Even the thought is a punch in my gut. Knocks the wind out of me.

In the silence of the warehouse with only triangles of light on the floor from the sun in the windows, I can say all the things I want to say. “I love you, Olivia.” Even though I say it in a whisper, it gives her too much power. Too much control. “Loved you.” I amend it to a lie because I am strong enough to make it true. It will take only time and determination. I have plenty of each.

“I love you, Leon.” Her voice breaks and part of me goes with it. And my determination wavers until I consider she’ll say whatever it takes to get back to her lover, to save him.

“Liar.” The word echoes through the vast emptiness of the warehouse and my guts with equal force. Part because she is using my emotions—my fucking weakness—to her advantage, and part because the weak and pathetic side of me wants it to be true. Yearns. Like a bitch.

She doesn’t sigh. Doesn’t sob. Smacks her hand against the metal door. The sting of metal reverberates. I smile. Even now, she’s fire and spirit, even in the face of her own death, which is probably the only option available to me after this day ends.

“You lock me in a dark room and sit outside taunting me and still I love you. And it does me no good to say it because you can’t trust. You don’t trust. Don’t even try.” She hits the door again, softer this time, probably with the side of a fist—heavier but the sound is a deeper drumbeat. “So you can think whatever you want, say it out loud so you can hear how ridiculous you sound, but I love you, and it hurts me to do it. Hurts me more to say it because you don’t…”

And she stops. Probably she thinks I don’t care. But I do, and it hurts me. I will die a thousand treacherous and painful deaths before I tell her. “I don’t care what hurts you, Olivia.”

“I know.” Her voice is so soft I might’ve imagined it. “But I care what hurts you. I care that you think I would ever lie to you.”

“Let me count the untruths, Olivia.”

“Count this, Leon. Count the ways I’ve loved you, not only with my body but with my heart, with my soul. Count the ways I’ve kissed you. Touched your body and your life. Count that.” Her voice is a contradiction. Her words are soft, a reminder of what we have—had—before she ruined it. But her tone is a blade, edged and sharp, meant to slice through me.

And it does. The sting is enough to make me gasp, but I don’t. I can’t let her know what I’m feeling because she’ll use it.

My phone chirps Adrian’s signal. He’s arrived and it’s time for the meeting. Time to end all of this. And her.

I pull open the door. Look at her. She’s disheveled, her hair stringy and unkempt, her clothes dusted with grime from the floor, her face smudged with dirt. And she’s fucking beautiful. So much I can’t stop wanting to pull her against me. To take her to my home and bathe her, wash her, love her.

Even though she is a liar and a betrayer, I can’t stop wanting her.

She is my greatest weakness. And my choices narrow. Kill her or love her until we both die.

I haul her out. “Sweet Olivia.” The words are out. Soft and in the air between us. My mouth is making choices with my heart that my brain cannot accept. She lied to me. “Did you sleep with him? Did you fuck the boy?”

I already have a thousand reasons to kill him. Her answer will determine if his death is swift or if he will suffer in ways I haven’t even begun to contemplate.

“No.”

God, I want to believe her, but she’s a liar and accomplished in her skill. And if it isn’t her lies that will break us, it is my distrust, my inability to accept her.

I don’t speak. Don’t let my heart join the battle of body and mind. I want to kiss her, to press her against the wall and claim her once more with my mouth and my hands and my cock. For a second, a long glorious second, I remember the feel of her, the taste, her touch on my skin, then I haul her from the room and to the car waiting outside.

I should put her in the trunk, but I want her to see her plan fall apart. And I want her beside me for less professional reasons than I will admit even to myself.

Adrian glances at me in the mirror. He’s brought the other Dmitri who sits beside him in front. “Is everyone in place?”

Adrian nods. “The warehouse is surrounded, and the Irish haven’t arrived yet.” He shoots me a cocked eyebrow—a question I can’t answer—through the rearview mirror, and I ignore him. I’m not in the mood for his appraisals of my decisions. Astute or not.

Olivia doesn’t so much as flinch beside me when Adrian jerks the car to a stop, waits for a door to roll into the ceiling before he drives in. She’s either confident I won’t kill her or have one of my men do it, or she doesn’t care. I can’t say yet which way it’s going to go. I open the door and pull Olivia out behind me. She’s angry, stubborn, her posture and hesitation strong in every step so I have to pull her around the front of the vehicle.

I stare at the open door on the other side of the warehouse. There are cars parked at the perimeter. Men standing outside holding guns. Some seen—the Irish—my men hidden in shadows.

Dmitri is beside me and Olivia’s on the other side.  Dmitri fancies himself full-American now and hasn’t been in a gun battle without shouting Yippee-ki-yay, mother fucker since he first saw some action flick. Today won’t be different, and I almost can’t wait. The power of a semi-automatic handgun responding to my commands is an escape to take me from my thoughts.

As we stand waiting, I plan. I can see the future in my head. The shots, the falling men. I can hear the grunts of pain, the ringing echo of every trigger pull. I’ll take Jacob first. He’s standing beside McGrath and Flinn. On second thought, McGrath first because he’s the biggest threat. Then Jacob. Then I’ll nod to Adrian. Or not. I haven’t decided. He’ll take the shot I can’t if it comes to it.

McGrath smiles at me. It’s a leer. Like he knows something I don’t. He doesn’t, of course. Because Flinn is a man of his word. To me, at least. What he’s said to McGrath is between them. It also means I will always have eyes on him. Never completely trust him. And he knows it. Returns the sentiment. This is the way of our lives.

As Connor and I stare at one another, men file in through the door. Irishmen. Mine will wait for the signal. But they’re close.

“Your time is over now, Leon. If you surrender to me, I will kill you quickly.” McGrath pulls a gun and aims it at me.

I smile. Smirk, actually. No man lets Leon Krilov live. I am alive because I choose it. Because I know how to stay alive. And dying doesn’t scare me.

“Or I’ll kill you.”

I nod at Flinn and he steps out, young, proud, as he walks toward me. I’ve promised him the leadership of these men, his men. He turns his weapon on Jacob and Olivia cries out. My guts clench, and never have I wanted a man dead more than I do Jacob Miller.

I don’t have time for all the wordplay, all the gangster theatrics that Hollywood studios put into the story. My story is short. To the fucking point. I shoot McGrath.  Blood seeps into his shirt as he lowers his hand and stares, mouth open like he thought I would inform him before I pulled the trigger.

Instead of his men aiming at me, they lower their weapons. Adrian has secured a deal with my money, my promises of security and safety, my guarantees of a better situation. McGrath has made his fortunes off their backs. Shared nothing. I have already delivered on my promises through Adrian and Flinn. Met with the men in charge. Given back dignity McGrath stole from them. It buys me their loyalty.

I glance at Adrian. He’s poised. Ready on my command. But I can’t do it. I can’t nod. And I hate myself for it. “Take them to the house.”

Whether or not Olivia dies, she’s going to watch the little bastard take his last breath. She’s earned that much for her deception, for her pretense and false professions of love. I stand and let the anger inside me build. His men will get rid of his body. But first they will listen to me. They will know they work for me now and they are protected men. If they wish to go to Ireland, they are free men, but if they stay here, they will work for me. They work for Leon Krilov, but Flinn is the man they report to.

I stand in front of McGrath’s body. It’s a good visual in case there’s any man left who is questioning whether he wants to try to make a name for himself by taking a shot at me.

By the time I finish speaking, I am confident enough to turn my back and walk away to a car waiting outside. There’s no reason for me to wonder at my own safety.

Once I’m inside the car with Dmitri, and no Russian blood has been spilled, he smiles. “You are boss of all men.” His English isn’t perfect, but when he picks a phrase, it’s a good one.

I nod. “Yes.” But one woman has me tied in a knot.

Dmitri drives in silence, and for once, I wish he would speak so my thoughts aren’t so loud in my head. I need not to think about her. Not to think about why I can’t kill her. Any other deserving woman, I would kill. Wouldn’t hesitate. Loving another man is not her fault. Lying about loving him is. Lying about getting close to me so she can stab me in the back is. Lying about fucking that little peon of a man is.

I glance at Flinn, who climbed in the car beside me. “Did you see the woman with me?”

He nods. “Yes.”

“How long has she worked for McGrath?” The details don’t matter. When Jacob dies, she must go with him.

“She doesn’t work for him. As a matter of fact, McGrath threatened to kill her to keep Miller in line.” He shakes his head. “McGrath doesn’t trust women. Would never let a woman inside his operation. Says they’re only good for cooking and fucking.”

I don’t give a fuck about McGrath’s outlook on women or their uses. I only care about Olivia. “You’re sure?”

He nods. “McGrath would fuck her, but he wouldn’t employ her. And any information that came from her would be useless because he wouldn’t trust it.”

His loss, if I’m honest. She’s sharp. Intelligent. And she can be honest. Those were my first impressions of her, and I am seldom wrong about things like personality. It’s why I don’t understand how I missed her running back to that piece of shit kid.

I stare out the window and watch the city pass. I have about three minutes before I will be forced to make a choice about how to deal with Olivia. Three minutes isn’t enough time to unpack all the information and emotions. Three minutes isn’t enough time. Period.

Especially since I squander them. Instead of making a plan, I imagine her face. The curve of her jaw. The softness in her eyes. The fire and passion. The sweet sincerity. I can’t kill her, and I can’t ask Adrian to do it either. If it has to happen and I don’t do it, I might as well give the business away to someone else. No way will any of my men or any others follow a man who can’t stop thinking with his fucking dick. Or his heart.

That she’s ruined my laser focus is just another reason I should hate her. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t.

Dmitri pulls the car into the garage, and I climb out. They follow me to the basement.

Adrian has worked Jacob over and Olivia’s eyes are red from crying, but no one is dead. Olivia is on her knees in front of Jacob with her hands tied behind her back. Jacob is tied to his chair, head lolling, eyes swollen but still open. Adrian might be losing his touch.

I give him a look, so I don’t have to look at Olivia. “Untie her.” It’s a small courtesy, but I need her to want to tell me the truth.

The kid looks up. “Don’t hurt her, man. She’s innocent. Had no part in any of this.”

I chuckle. “Look, Olivia. Your little lover wants to save you.” I’m cruel to her because my heart is broken. Aching. And I want her to know how it feels.

She stares up at me, and I make the mistake of meeting her eyes. Seeing the hurt there that I want to squash. She makes me weak in ways that are unacceptable.

I shake it off and stare back hard, angry. Determined to make this woman pay for the things she’s done. Her lover will die for it. And she will suffer.

I pull my gun. I don’t need to ask questions. She might not have been working for McGrath, but she slept with me to feed details to her boyfriend while he worked for McGrath.

“Please don’t shoot him, Leon.” Her voice is weak, but she moves between me and the boy, so to get to him I will have to move her, shoot her, or go around her.

“Begging for the life of your lover makes you pathetic, Olivia.” Over the scent of her fear, over her sadness, I can still smell her perfume. It tantalizes me, and my focus shifts for a second before I can draw it back.

“He’s not my lover, Leon.” She reaches a hand to touch my arm and electricity shoots through every muscle and tendon and cell, straight to my cock, like I’m some horny fucking teenager.

I move a step away because she is my weakness, but I harden my heart, speak the truth that’s killing me inside. “You’re a liar. I saw your things in his room.”

Adrian’s eyes widen, and his mouth twists. I’ve shown too much. Given away the emotion that has me holding my own gun on them rather than watching while my men handle this situation at my direction.

“Not because I’m sleeping with him. Because I needed a place to put them.” She shakes her head. “I don’t… I think…Leon…” And she falls into me so that I have no choice but to catch her or let her go face first into the concrete floor.

She’s unconscious. And I do the only thing I can. I swing her into my arms, carry her up the stairs and to my car with Adrian following me.

And in the space of one fainting woman, nothing in my life matters but Olivia.