She was willful, and as I’d promised, I would one day break her spirit. It might come sooner rather than later once she realized that her entire existence had been a lie. She’d often posted about adoption charities on her social media, so she likely knew she wasn’t an actual Winslow; however, I doubted she had any idea who her true father was. I’d not only have to break that news to her, but I’d also have to fill her in on her future husband.
Mikhail Bocharov. I knew the name, although I had to look him up to tie it to a face once I had heard it the last time. The son of one of the most powerful Russian Bratva families in Moscow, he stood to inherit one hell of a throne someday. All he neededwas a wife to provide heirs, and Aurora would be that for him. At least if Leon Barganella had his way.
“I sure as fuck hope he’s ready for a feisty one,” I muttered about the Russian prince.
Women like Aurora often intrigued me because the very submissive ones usually bored me. I have dark and sadistic tendencies, so delicate pushovers could rarely handle those singular tastes of mine.
I’d been raised in, and still lived in, a very violent world, and that destruction and pain fueled everything within it, including my sexual proclivities. I fucked women I could break. Ones whose will I could bend. And, I’d be a lying son of a bitch if I said that I hadn’t already plotted a half dozen ways to accomplish that with Aurora.
I glanced down at my cell phone just as the damn thing rang. It was Cillian, so I quickly answered his call. Before I could even say a word, though, my uncle spoke. “The three of us are now here.”
“Reporting for duty,” I said sarcastically.
“Did you secure her?” King asked me, cutting straight to the chase.
The thing about King, and even Cillian, was that neither had much patience. At least not with me and others in our line of work. The men were both married with children, and their families often saw a different side of them than I did.
One day, I would be expected to settle down and produce heirs of my own. Kingston had already told me how Ronan Brannington had tried forcing both him and Cillian into marriage and children. It wasn’t surprising that he and Aunt Ekaterina had gotten their start that way, but it had been more than shocking to know why. She’d been the one to end my father’s life. I didn’t blame her as it was a crappy outcome for all parties involved. I’d grown up a ward of a man whose solemission in life had been to break, then mold, his own heirs to his will, no matter the means. If my own father had lived, I might’ve grown up much differently. I might’ve even been normal.
Again, normalcy is overrated. No one has time for that shit.
And I knew that Kington and Cillian had no time for this progress report either, so I quickly responded. “I have the girl.”
“How did you do it?” Cillian asked me.
“And the better question is whether any cleanup is required.”
I scowled, but managed to hold back my growl. Again, these very men always seemed to question me. I ran the organization in Boston, and I’d never once had to turn to either of them for a goddamn thing, yet they never tried not to make me feel like a rookie fucker when it came to handling the simplest of tasks.
Granted, kidnapping a woman in broad daylight, or under the shadow of the moon, was not the easiest thing, especially in a city as large and populated as Boston. There was also the issue of cameras and other things to contend with. It was why I had thought of it all when I’d planned her abduction, and it had gone off without a hitch.
Still, I hated to feel as if I was still in a “prove it” mode to either of them. I had killed men with my bare hands, the same as they both had, and I’d done everything possible to live up to my name.
“Well, is there?” Cillian asked.
“No, my plan was executed flawlessly.”
“And how did you manage that?” King asked.
My eyes narrowed more. All of my earlier adrenaline had worn off when I’d had no way of fueling it, so I was beyond sleep-deprived at this point and growing increasingly more irritated with every second that passed.
“Her boyfriend is a complete tool, and up to his ears in debt to fuel his gambling addiction. As luck would have it, he owed our family a sum of money, and I used that debt as a danglingcarrot. He took the bait and had also wagered the girl, whom he lost. With his help, I was able to get her downstairs and into an unmarked car willingly, and in return, I wiped away the current night’s debt.”
“And you’re sure that she bought whatever bait he used on her?”
“That isn’t my concern. All that matters is that I was able to procure the girl without incident, and she is here awaiting your...” I stopped midsentence as I realized what I was about to say, then I quickly corrected myself. “Awaitingournext move.”
“I plan to make contact with Barganella within the next few days. I have to check on a few things in Naples, so I’ll head to Palermo right after,” my uncle said. “We’ll know more then.”
A few days with Aurora didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. It also wasn’t the best thing, either. At least not for her. But probably not for me, either.
“Are we sure the Russians will even take her from us?” I had to ask.
Cillian cleared his throat before responding. “I’ve already been in touch with Sebastjan Bocharov. He wants the girl for his son, so the terms are still being worked out. Once we get what we want and need, she’ll be out of your hands.”
“Thank fuck,” I muttered.
“She already that bad?” Cillian asked before chuckling.
