Dressed in torn jeans and a T-shirt, I made my way downstairs for breakfast. I took my meal alone at the table by the window. I always seemed to be alone, now, more so than ever before. I envied families like the Wildes, who despite their differences, enjoyed meals together. Last Sunday, they invited me to dinner. I’m sure it wasn’t because they liked me but because I’d saved Faye’s life. In the process, I’d ruined my own.

Getting to Alex and Faye’s house was tricky. It wasn’t easy to escape my father. Telling him I was getting a massage to ease my menstrual cramps did the trick. When it came to men, all a girl needed to mention was her period, and they asked no questions. He would have killed me if he’d known I was having dinner with his rivals and a federal agent. No one discussed business that day except for me. I couldn’t hold back the despair of being freed from one marriage, only to be promised to another. My marriage to Sergei couldn’t be considered anything but a business transaction.

In the distance, two blue jays fought over a twig. Just like people, they battled over worthless things.

My stomach twisted, sending acid to my throat. I swallowed and kept it down like everything else in my life. While I knew I’d end up married to Sergei, I couldn’t erase the uneasiness that came with our first conversation. There was no doubt in my mind he was sent from Russia to eliminate my father, but why keep me? Why not take both of us out? Surely, he could fake a home invasion, kill us both and take over the territory. What was I missing?

Angry voices echoed in the silence. My father’s bellowed over Sergei, shouting, “I will not.”

Hope sprang from my heart that he’d come to his senses and realized I was not a tradable commodity. Against my better judgment, I snuck down the corridor toward my father’s office and stood out of sight.

“You have no choice but to loosen the reins,” Sergei said. “I will be taking over the liquor sales since you lost control. Profits are down. We need the Wildes back on board. Leave it to me, and I will make it happen.”

“That will never happen. You’d have to kill him and take over his territory.”

“Perhaps. I’m leaving my options open.”

Fear twisted inside my gut. Sergei was not beyond killing anyone to get what he wanted. I’d never allow Matt to die over cheap vodka.

“This is my territory, and I decide what happens,” Yuri yelled back. “I agreed to give you my daughter and make you my son-in-law, but I will not turn over everything to you, and I will not allow you to tell me what to do. Who do you think you are?”

“I’m the man who will change your life. The only thing you get to decide is if it’s for better or worse.”

“We’ll see about that,” my father said.

The thunk of boots grew louder and closer. Fear of getting caught forced me to race back to the kitchen and take my seat by the window. A moment later, a shadow loomed over me as I stared up into the coal-black eyes of my future husband.

“You don’t have to sneak around, my love. I am an open book.”

How the hell did he know I was there? “I…I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“How much do you know of your father’s business?” The chair scraped across the tile floor. The wood frame creaked when he took a seat. Sergei had to be at least two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle and brawn. It was a wonder the spindled legs of the chair didn’t collapse beneath him.

I considered his question for a moment. Was he testing me? Did he want to know if I snuck around corners to spy all the time?

“I fear my answer may get me in trouble.”

He leaned forward, setting his hand over mine. His one palm completely covered both of my hands. “There is no right or wrong. There is only the truth, and the truth is never wrong and always right.”

“You realize you are contradicting yourself.”

He smiled. “I know exactly what I’m doing, my love.”

How he tossed that term of endearment around so easily bothered me. Love was something special, or it should be. I’d never known the emotion myself, except for the way a daughter loves her mother. “You do not love me, so please refrain from calling me your love.”

His eyes danced with amusement. “My future bride is either bold or stupid. Why do you challenge me?”

“I cannot help myself. Everything is a battle, and I am a warrior.”

“Good. I don’t have time for soft females. Tell me what you know?”

Though I didn’t want to give away family secrets, wasn’t it my father who had given me to this man? If he were going to be my husband, I’d have to tell him, eventually. Maybe in the process of getting to know him, I could figure a way out of this mess.

I looked toward the hallway where my father was either stewing or plotting a hit on Sergei. “How about I show you instead?”

“Perfect. Get your shoes, and we will meet outside.”

When I walked out the front door five minutes later, I was greeted by a group of men I didn’t recognize.

Sergei stood by me and pointed to each man individually. “This is my security team. Abram, Egor, and Timur.” All three men nodded in my direction. “You have your own security team?”

Timur opened the door to the black sedan. He stared at me with the same black intensity as Sergei did my father. A chill raced down my spine. He was definitely Sergei’s right-hand man, and there would be no hesitation to protect him.

His eyes glanced to my thigh, where my jeans hugged my skin. “Are you armed today?”

I patted my purse. “Of course I am. I’m not stupid.”

He slid into the seat beside me. When the door closed, he said, “So you’re bold.”

I directed the driver to old Las Vegas, where the clubs we owned were located. We pulled into Boodeem. When translated to English, it meant to your health, but I was sure the three men killed there this year didn’t consider the place a threat to their health until they were on their knees in front of Dima, begging for their lives. Defaulting on debt was unhealthy. Defaulting to the Russian mafia was deadly.

“I have to take care of myself. I have no mother, and you know who my father is. Can you blame me?” We exited the car and walked into the dimly lit bar that smelled like aftershave and cigars. I waved to Mike the bartender, whose eyes grew wide when he saw the men surrounding me.

When he picked up the phone, I shook my head. Something told me a call to my father would be unhealthy for Mike.

“This way.” We weaved through tables to the back room, where a single knock opened the door. Sergei pushed his way through. I smiled at the gatekeeper, hoping to convey a message of calm.

Only two tables were in play. The stakes were high with no maximum bet and a minimum of five thousand a hand. These games weren’t for the faint of heart or those who were light in the pocket.

“Just gaming here?” Timur asked. He scanned the room like a hunter looking for prey hiding in the dark corners.

“No, there are women upstairs.” I’d never been upstairs. The place scared the hell out of me because I knew deep inside I was one argument with my father away from being chained to a stained mattress and sold for some man’s pleasure.

“Show me.” Did he see the shudder that shook my body? I lifted my chin and walked the men to a back door that led to a single staircase. When we entered the second floor, we were greeted with the smell of cheap perfume and silence.

Sergei pulled me back and took the lead. He opened doors to rooms as he walked down the hallway. Some had women sleeping, but there were no chains. No un-plunged needles in arms. The last room had a couple caught in the act. The man looked over his shoulder as he thrust into the young brunette.

She groaned but didn’t seem to mind the intrusion. “Mimi’s across the hall, she can take care of you,” she said and went back to her task at hand.

While I never wanted to be sold to the sex trade, at least the girls seemed safe.

Sergei rapped on the door across the hall and waited for Mimi. An older woman answered. “Fifty bucks for a blowie, a hundred for full-on sex. You want a creampuff, that’s double.” She adjusted her shirt so her breasts nearly toppled out.

“Just introducing myself. I’m Sergei, your new boss.”

“Right. No cash—no coochie, mister.”

She tried to close the door, but I stepped from behind Sergei. When the woman saw me, her face turned ashen.

“Mimi, is it? Let me introduce you to my fiancé.” It pained me to say the words. “He’ll be taking over for my father, Yuri. I suggest you treat him well.” My greatest hope was that Mimi was Sergei’s type. If he could find his pleasure from a woman like her, I’d be off the hook.

“So sorry.” She knocked on the wall in a pattern, and half a dozen women opened their doors. “Girls, we have special guests.”

While Timur and Sergei passed on the offerings, the other two men disappeared with waiting women. As we exited, the hallway was no longer silent, but filled with the sounds of sex.

“Shall we have a drink while we wait?” I asked as we walked by the tables and entered the bar.

“I don’t wait,” Sergei said. “We’ll continue. My men will catch up. I’d like to see the warehouse.”

Talk about a punch to the gut. I’d promised myself never to set foot in that building again. I still had nightmares of the moment I buried Dima’s knife inside his stomach.

Contrary to popular belief, my reputation for being able to kill without thought was propagated by me. If people were afraid, they wouldn’t mess with me. My bravado was nothing more than a good concealer to hide my weakness and imperfections.

“There’s nothing but crates of liquor at the warehouse.” I kept moving toward the front door, hoping he’d change his mind.

“It’s where my cousin Dima died, and I would like to go there.”

I stumbled at his words and fell to my knees. Quickly, I tugged at my shoelace and pretended it was the reason for my fall. I took in two silent cleansing breaths before I stood. “Dima was your cousin?” A jump from the second-story balcony was looking better each day. I pulled out my best performance. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I had no idea. Dima never talked about family.”

Timur yanked the car door open, and we slid inside.

“Do you know anything about his death? I’m told it was the Wildes who killed him.”

Could he see my heart pound against my chest? “No, I know nothing about that day, only that he was taken by surprise.”

For the first time since I met him, Sergei showed his anger. “That’s a lie,” he yelled. “My cousin was perfect at his job. He’d never be taken by surprise. Did you know they cut off his balls before they slit his throat?”

I moved to the corner without thought, trying to gain distance. I couldn’t feel too bad that he lost his penis. He was a sick bastard. The real question was, did that injury kill him, or had I delivered the fatal wound when I had stabbed him?

“Why do you cower?” He narrowed his eyes until only slivers of onyx showed. “It’s not like you killed him, but I will find out who did. My cousin isn’t the only one with skills. Tell me about the Wildes.”

My mind was still on skills. Did it turn him on to torture his victims? Was I not his type because I wasn’t bleeding or begging for my life?

“Oh, I don’t know much about them.”

“You were engaged to the oldest. How can you not know them?”

I couldn’t stop the eye roll before it happened. “I’m engaged to you, and I don’t know anything about you.”

He nodded his head and looked out the window. “I’d like to pay a visit to the brothers. I hear they own a club called Capone’s.”

“I don’t know if an unsolicited visit is wise.”

Sergei reached over and gripped my jaw. The strength of his touch was guaranteed to leave a bruise. “I didn’t ask for your advice. I merely need answers.”

As we neared the warehouse, my throat tightened and my heart raced. “Of course not. Yes, Capone’s is a nightclub. I’d be happy to take you there tonight.”

He pulled back, dropping his hand. “Perfect. We can celebrate our engagement.”

Timur opened the door. Sergei hopped out. They stared at the warehouse entrance. “I assume you can get inside.”

I glanced at the door. Had it only been weeks since I was here? It felt like years ago and yesterday at the same time. I shimmied my way across the seat and stood on shaky legs. This was a do-or-die moment. One thing Sergei had already proven was, he didn’t miss a thing. Which meant he’d see my fear if I didn’t get a handle on things. It was time to put on my game face.

“Even if I didn’t have the code, I’d be able to hack into the system easily enough. It’s a simple program.” I wanted to slap my hand over my mouth. My hacking skills were something I’d kept on the down low. A back pocket skill I’d used to my advantage more than once.

Sergei laughed. “That’s good to know. I’m in need of a good hacker.”

The only reason to need a hacker was to spy or steal, and something told me he intended to do both.

“I didn’t say I was good.” At the door, I entered the code, and the lock sprung free. Even though the warehouse reeked like wet wood and whiskey, I still smelled the iron-tinged scent of death.

Timur and Sergei walked around the storeroom and stopped at the exact spot where I’d left his cousin to die. How did he know? I ventured a step forward and saw the dark stain inked into the concrete.

Timur’s hand came to rest on Sergei’s shoulder.

When Sergei turned to face me, I saw the vein in the center of his forehead pulse and the look of pure evil wash over his face. Blood would spill over Dima’s death. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the Wildes or mine.

“It could have been anyone. Even the Colombians are jockeying for position.”

“Nyet,” Sergei snapped.

“This is your father’s fault. He will pay.”

I backed to the doorway. This was my fault, and I should pay, but before Sergei could wrap his hand around my neck and squeeze, I needed to tell Matt his family was in trouble. Until then, I’d play dumb.

“My father didn’t kill Dima. He loved your cousin.”

Sergei stalked toward me. “Your father didn’t pull the trigger, but he loaded the gun when he killed Vincent Wilde.”

How could I convince him that wasn’t true without giving myself away? “The Wildes would never kill Dima.”

“Not even to save Faye?”

Shit. I forgot my father’s part in kidnapping Faye. “What does Faye have to do with this?” I asked as if this was new information.

He cupped my cheek in the way a lover would. His soft touch was in direct opposition to his cold stare. “You don’t know much, do you, my love?”

I knew more than I let on, but that was my secret to keep.