Chapter 16
Duke
Icheck in with the concierge and stride across the lobby to the exclusive elevator for the penthouse. The inside of the apartment block screams luxury, clad in Italian marble with Grecian columns and water features thrust into every nook and cranny. The elevator is just as gaudy with ornate brass fittings and gold-tinted mirrors. I fucking hate it, but not as much as I hate the occupant on the top floor.
When I reach the penthouse, I’m not surprised to find one of Katarina’s goons blocking her door. Her bodyguards reside on the floor below, but one or the other is always here to greet me. Today, I have the pleasure of Danyl. His hair is closely cropped, his grey eyes emotionless and his mouth pulled into a permanent sneer as he waits for me to assume the position.
I’ve had to endure body searches every single time I’ve visited Katarina, and I know it’s more of a power trip than a security measure. They’ve had me by the balls for too fucking long.
When I go to walk past him, Danyl looks more boredthan alarmed when he grabs my shoulder. He’s a couple of inches shorter and not quite so broad, but I’d be foolish to think he’d be easy to bring down, not when he’s the one with a firearm holstered beneath his black leather jacket. But still…
“Not today,” I say, glaring at his hand. “You’re going to have to feel up someone else to get your kicks.”
Danyl snarls, his grip tightening as his weight shifts. He’s going to kick my legs from under me, but before he can lift a foot, I grab his wrist to wrench it from my shoulder. He’s expecting the move, but I’m using it as a distraction so I can grab the semi-automatic pistol from his holster with my other hand. Danyl jabs me hard in the ribs in response, but I tense in time to absorb the hit.
With a grunt, I keep hold of both his wrist and the gun, twisting Danyl’s arm up and around his back before face-planting him into the solid marble wall. The thud isn’t nearly as satisfying as I’d hoped so I yank him backwards and slam him into the wall again.
Bubbles of blood smear the marble as Danyl hisses. “Dolboyob.”
I press the gun to his temple. There’s a click as I release the safety. “No, you’re the fucking idiot for giving me the opportunity to shoot you with your own gun.”
“You don’t have the balls to do it,” he mutters. “Not when we have–”
I bring the butt of the gun down on his skull with a loud thwack and let his body crumple to the floor. I know what he was going to say and I don’t want to hear it right now. Recalling all the times this bastard enjoyed humiliating me, I kick him in the balls. He’s unconscious so he doesn’t react, but he’ll feel it when he comes around.
Stepping over Danyl’s unmoving body, I use the gun asa hammer against the brass plated door. It has biometric security and I’d prefer not to drag Danyl over to gain access.
My blows echo through the ante space and leave dents in the metal. “Katarina! Open the fucking door!”
Above my hammering, I hear heavy footfalls in the stairwell. There are two CCTV cameras in addition to the one in the entry system, and Andrey has caught the fight on the security feed. Before I can prepare for a counter attack, Katarina swings open her door. She rolls her eyes at me and steps aside. As I’m crossing the threshold, Andrey arrives, his gun drawn.
“Put it away,” Katarina snaps. “I’ll deal with this.”
Andrey responds in Russian, but his voice gets cut off as Katarina slams the door on him. She slides across a deadbolt so her guards can’t get in.
As she tightens the belt on her silk robe, her self-assuredness is something to behold. She doesn’t appear concerned that I’ve just knocked Danyl unconscious. Maybe she expected me to fight back at some point, but she’s making a very big assumption that I’d never hit a woman. That would have been true once, but not today.
Something broke inside me when I saw Rory’s injuries. Not my heart. Not my temper. Something far more tenuous. Something that I thought was healing. The tether that’s kept me bound to this life is hanging by a thread and I don’t care if it snaps.
Katarina’s stilettos click to the sway of her hips as she sashays past me, but I have no intention of following wherever she’s leading. I grab her by the throat and pin her to the wall. She gasps in surprise, then quickly schools her expression. She doesn’t attempt to pry my hand away. Her dark brown eyes are devoid of emotion as she adjusts the robe that had slipped off hershoulder.
There can only be one reason she hasn’t asked why I’m upset. “You knew what they were going to do to Rory,” I snarl, pushing Danyl’s gun against her ribs.
“He walked away, didn’t he?” she challenges, unfazed by the gun or the chokehold. “It was a gentle nudge, nothing more.”
“His car was totaled.”
“The nudge was foryou,” she clarifies. “You seem to have forgotten your commitments.”
“On the contrary, it’s hard to forget what I’m being forced to do while your uncle holds my brother hostage.”
I’d been a fool to stay involved with this woman. After the Griffins’ initial escape plan turned to shit, I’d remained a willing volunteer. I only realized my mistake when Vasili Barkov demanded we set a date for the wedding and Katarina refused. That was when I received a call from Fitz introducing me to his new ‘friends.’
At twenty-six, Fitz is the youngest and some might say, most feral Moncrief. Initially, he found it hilarious that the Bratva were using him to force me to marry some Russian beauty. He’s been in plenty of tight spots, but someone’s always showed up to bail him out. Usually Dad. He’s expecting more of the same.
Dad has been far more lenient with Fitz than the rest of us, and the youngest Moncrief has never felt the pressure to commit to anything – be that career, relationships, or even a location. Fitz’s inability to stay still for five minutes is something the family have grown accustomed to. None of us, not even Dad, could ever pin him down, so we stopped trying.
It explains why no one’s been particularly concerned by his absence. Messages from Fitz, last seen traveling around Europe, have been sporadic over the last six months. Whenever someone in the family tried to track him down throughfriends, they covered for him without question, and as far as anyone else is concerned, the last six weeks have just been more of the same.
