His eyes jump to mine, and I’m not saying he’s pissy or drunk, but perhaps the alcohol is hitting hard because I see him drop his guard. All this time, I’ve been sure he didn’t know who I was, but the flickering conflict in his eyes suggests something different.
And then I realize, perhaps a little too late, that the vodka is kicking my ass too. Thankfully, though, I have experience living this life already, so I keep the realization that he has limited vision in one eye to myself.
Chapter Twenty-Three
ALEKSEI
She doesn’t vocalize or express her reactions. Instead, she takes another large swig of the bottle, then stumbles away. Her bedroom door closes softly, and Roshka’s rump thuds against the door as he mourns being locked out.
Quinn’s scent hangs in the air, a vanilla so sweet, it reminds me of the better things in life. I want it to be the only thing I breathe. I want everything it represents, but most of all, I want her to acknowledge the fact we’ve met.
It’s not like I can lead into it myself. It would be incriminating to start with, placing me in the country where another of Sergey’s murderous requests were attended to. And then what would the point be? She is to marry my brother in a matter of days. Not only will he use my attraction to her against me, but he will also punish her for it, and that’s a heavy burden. What is worse is, I know once she realizes who I am to Sergey, she will lump me in the same basket as him. With good reason; family rates highly in the mafia world.
Instead, I let sleeping dogs lie and hope I can show her that her safety will always be a priority for me.
“I will lock the dogs up outside, then bring the van around. There’s another door past the kitchen that leads outside.”
I leave them with the vodka and their mistrust. Nalla trots next to me, like always. As I scratch her head, the relief and reminder I get that I am not alone chases away some of the darkness following me.
Out the front door, the security dogs are lying in wait. They are not trained individually. The pack mentality runs wild, and their hunting instincts are in overdrive. The Alpha dog is a large male Rottweiler, and he and I have never seen eye to eye.
Because Sergey is such an asshole and enjoys tormenting me at every turn, he has never named the dogs. He knows I hate the way he treats them like they are throwaway toys. I want to respect each dog, but sadly, I know it is wasted energy. If I show them mercy, he will slaughter them in my presence. He’s done so each time I have tried to change his ways.
Nalla’s posture shifts as we move past the stairs, straight to where the Rotty is. The other dogs are closing in, ready to defend him, but by their nature, as soon as I reinforce the dominance of the male, they will fall to heel too.
Thankfully, this is a game this dog and I have played too many times. Nalla stands behind as I step closer; she will watch my back. She could overpower him, but I don’t want anyone truly aware of the bond I share with my dogs, nor the strength they hide.
The Rotty’s hackles rise, and I let my own designation rush over the distance separating us and rip his submission from him before darting forward and grabbing the scruff of his neck and dragging him to where the cages are. It would appear cruel, but compared to Sergey’s cruelty, a bit of roughhousing is nothing.
The other dogs trail behind us, wary but also driven by instinct. As soon as they are behind the cage, I lay out enough food and water, then I open the access to their kennels so they can shelter out of the weather.
I told him to let the dogs out, and that’s on me, but our usual protocol is they are kept on a leash by guards who have been shown how to handle them. Sergey was being an asshole. Intentionally.
The guardhouse, at least, is manned. There is only one guard, who has done what he was instructed, which is stay inside, leave the light on.
I tap the window as I pass, and he is awake this time. When I arrived back home, he was dead to the world asleep. He would be dead if Sergey was here.
“Open the gate,” I bark at him through the glass.
He nods, and a moment later, the gate slides open.
The van is parked further up the street. Sadly, the brisk air cuts through the pleasant buzz of the vodka, and I’m left with a headful of anxious thoughts, all pointed towards Quinn.
She’s too fucking beautiful to be here. I curse myself for not being ready to overthrow Sergey, but if I did, all the leads I’ve been quietly following will dry up, and more children will be lost.
It was only because of sheer good fortune that I was able to make my flight to Ireland. My crew was already on board, waiting. I’d had to drop the young Omega I’d rescued at a safe house, hiding my crime by setting the barrel on fire with the body of the guard I had killed inside. Sergey won’t look for answers; he will simply find another child, or Omega, to replace the one he lost. But I’ll be there, waiting, again until I know where the trafficking source is and who is involved.
My thoughts stay both busy and conflicted. I know my mother would hate the man Sergey has become, while my father would be proud of the way his favorite son has emulated him andhis success. Stopping by the booth, I tell the guard to lock up the grounds and to call me if anyone shows up. They won’t. They’re probably all with Sergey in St. Petersburg because, like rats, Sergey’s closest friends scurry after him and follow him blindly.
I should be there as his Avtoritet, but Dmitri has provided me with a good reason to stay and protect Quinn. If Sergey’s fiancée was to die or be kidnapped, it would reflect badly on him. Up to now, the way Sergey has acted towards her has been nothing more than a show of his power and disrespect towards Victor.
What worries me most is what his next move is. Because I know my brother, and all this is only a taste of what is to come.
Santiago is waiting at the door. He is on his phone, reading a text. I watch him until he notices.
Looking at him is like looking in a mirror; he carries as many secrets as I do. He also looks at Quinn in awe and confusion sometimes. Not how a guard should.
I hop out and wait for Nalla to follow me. She races off to do a check of our surroundings, and I won’t do much until she is back.
