I get why he’s pissed.
Kostya vowed to kill the undercover FBI agent who ruined his California deal the next time he saw her. Because of her, he was branded incompetent not only in Sasha’s eyes but probably in Misha’s too. And say what you will about my little brother, his ego and pride are just as big as any Petrov man’s.
Being denied that opportunity to make that mistake right, would sour anyBratvaunderboss.
“You’ll get your chance. Just not tonight.”
“Sure, I will,” he seethes, running his fingers through his hair in aggravation, but then his anger subsides somewhat when his attention is suddenly pulled to the two women in the room. “Shit. What do we do now? The meet is,” he glances at his fancy watch, “Shit! It’s in forty minutes.”
He’s right.
Blyad!
I can’t just leave Stella and Kira here while Kostya and I go bribe some local officials.
Pizdets!
“I’ll go,” Kostya says, squaring his shoulders. “Take the girls home and I’ll go… set things up for you.”
“No. You take the girls. I’ll handle the meet. They’re expecting me anyway.”
“Those fuckers couldn’t tell us apart even if they tried. I’ll go.” He lowers his voice and leans closer. “Besides…” His gaze flicks toward Stella. “You have a banshee to deal with.”
“Are you sure you can handle this?”
He nods.
I throw an arm around his shoulders and pull him close. “Wire them the money, but make sure they understand that failure to do what’s expected of them means that they won’t live long enough to spend a dime of it. Understood?”
“Not my first rodeo bribing a man. I won’t fuck this up. Just trust me.”
I look at my brother for half a heartbeat before nodding once.
“I do trust you. Go. Handle business. While I…”
“Handle your woman,” he finishes with a wink before heading out.
I exhale deeply and turn toward Stella.
God, she looks good.
And being this close to her again… I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now.
But I can’t dwell on that. First, I need to take Kira home.
Then?
Then I’ll have some quality time with my woman.
It’s been a long time coming.
Chapter 20
Stella
The car ride to Frankie’s new apartment in the city is thick with awkward tension. Her uncle Mikhail bought the place so she and Darius could live there instead of in the orphanage, and neither Kirill nor I say a word during the drive there. We are both afraid that anything we say might upset her, especially after that clusterfuck that went down back at his club. Not that the poor girl doesn’t already feel like she’s caught in the middle of a tug-of-war between our two families.
“Thanks for the lift, Uncle Kirill,” she says from the back seat, once we arrive at her building.
