Chapter One
Terrace Glen
Saturday
Ten P.M
One Week to the Wedding…
T he house was silent, and that in itself was odd. Dimitri was accustomed to the place being a madhouse. Over the last few days, Emma and Steele were neck deep in planning a wedding. It was fast approaching, and the whole family was getting ready for it. There was going to be one hell of a celebration as they came together to see Doctor Steele Bentley officially become a Croft.
Honestly, he didn’t get it.
It was only a wedding.
What did it matter?
Most marriages failed, and that was why he was never going to get stuck in that trap. He didn’t ever see himself settling down and getting married.
Why?
There was really no need.
He was perfectly happy as he was. He could come as he wished, he could smoke and not be nagged, and he could kill without conscience.
The last thing Dimitri needed was a babysitter. He certainly didn’t want a wife.
They were trouble.
He watched the man he admired, and he saw the internal struggle he was having.
He couldn’t have a cigar around Emma.
She was with child.
Killing had repercussions.
Emma would worry about his soul.
It was all about pleasing a wife, and he didn’t understand it at all. Dimitri didn’t find any lure to it. Greyson could have any woman he wanted, any life he wanted, and still he chose to wear that gilded ring—a symbol of his imprisonment.
Yes, Greyson got to sleep beside a warm body, having sex whenever he wanted, but Dimitri got plenty of sex.
He didn’t have to be nagged, and he didn’t have to make attachments. That was what he didn’t get. Why was the man making his life harder, not easier?
Don’t get him wrong. Dimitri knew that Emma was one hell of a catch. She seemed to come from an era long gone, and she complemented the man nicely.
She added to his mystique, but she added to his burdens—and as of late, they were growing.
Having a wife, someone you paired off with, seemed like more trouble than it was worth.
Why?
To have a bed buddy?
For the sex, he got it, but to have someone to sleep beside each night?
Surely, it was overrated.
The last thing he wanted was a woman in bed with him once hell broke loose. When Dimitri closed his eyes, he had about three hours before the nightmares began, and then he was over it.
They were enough to make his bowels run cold, his blood to freeze, and his soul to die.
He couldn’t face them in his sleep because then, he’d have to face them while he was awake.
And that would suck.
Truthfully, Dimitri would rather hide. He’d lived on catnaps and caffeine for years.
Why stop now?
All roads led to this point in his life, so what did it matter if he got married or lived alone?
There was no doubt in his mind that if he found a wife, he’d be just as miserable.
He wasn’t the only one not sleeping well at Terrace Glen.
It was fact.
After all, fate didn’t seem so particular. He and Greyson were from different lives. He’d grown up in a home with a mother and father, and Dimitri hadn’t.
Still, they both paced the floor at night.
Greyson had killed for his country, taking lives when he was told to pull the trigger. Dimitri had stripped away humanity to the barest sense of it before ending someone, and he’d done it for money, being a mercenary.
Again, they both carried the same weight.
So why did he believe he’d be happy married? It wasn’t that Greyson wasn’t happy, he was simply carrying the same burdens, plus one more.
He had to worry about Emma.
The man had so much more to lose. Other than Dimitri’s sisters, he couldn’t be hurt. His heart was empty, and that was the best for a man in his position.
He had to protect the people he loved, but from the outside, he appeared to have no baggage.
He didn’t have ties.
Well, other than the boy he was about to adopt.
The burdens were the same, but he could come and go how he wished, smoke like a chimney, and he didn’t have some woman’s disapproving glare.
That worked for him.
Besides, they were too busy. They were in this Vegas together, and as of late, there was a lot of talking going on.
Something was coming.
Once more, Fate was laughing at them. Being from two different worlds, you’d think his friend would have an easier life.
While Greyson had the best start a person could get, being nurtured and raised in love, he’d been beaten, abused, and neglected.
They were still standing side by side in the shit mess. Did Dimitri really think it was good to drag another person into that?
No.
It wasn’t.
Greyson had made his choices, and now, he was going to make his too.
He knew his life was going to be short, and he’d accepted that years ago. He’d raised his sisters, and now, they were happy. He was going to raise Sam, and he was likely done.
He was holding on for as long as he could, as the darkness threatened to swallow him whole.
So, he was going to smoke, buy his women, and call it a day. The lack of attachment made it easier. Women were wonderful, but they were…difficult.
He knew.
He raised two, and now, he was going to do it all over again with a son.
What had he been thinking?
Oh yeah.
He wasn’t.
The Crofts did him in.
How?
Dimitri had fallen in love. He’d fallen for a family that he had no business caring about.
He’d fallen for a woman who was married to a man he respected. He loved her because she loved him.
Oh, he didn’t want to have sex with Emma. He simply wanted to be a part of her heart, and he was.
That was plenty for him.
It was all he deserved.
Dimitri was paying his penance one day at a time. He was paying for his sins, and until he did, he couldn’t have anything to call his own.
Yes, he had money.
Wealth.
Assets.
He just couldn’t put down roots. This arrangement with the Crofts was the first time in…ever, that he’d actually wanted to stay in one place. They’d come, go in to do the job, and leave.
Well, he liked being near them.
Honestly, he liked being around Emma.
She was cathartic.
Emma’s love ebbed from her, covering them all. Look at his sisters. Kat was happy. She was expecting her first child, and he was going to hold that baby. She’d already decided that on the day the child was to be born, he’d be by her side.
Well, he and Emma.
She was the mother to them all, and it pleased him that she loved his sisters as much as he loved them. It’s all he really wanted for them.
Still, in the back of his mind, he saw himself walking away one day. When the family was safe and when his sisters were loved, he’d leave, knowing he did his job.
Dimitri knew there would be no love for him.
He wasn’t the lovable type. He killed without thinking, and he didn’t bat an eye when he did it.
He was broken.
Heartless.
Nothing.
For now, he kept up the charade, hoping no one would see through it. It wasn’t easy.
Emma Croft was, indeed, like a mother.
She was tricky.
She would be smiling at you one minute, and the next, she’d be analyzing you.
God help her child.
That baby was getting away with nothing. She was the mother of all mothers, and it made him smile.
So, as he patrolled the house, making sure to check on everyone, he couldn’t help but think about the next part of his journey.
Father part two.
The boy deserved some stability, and frankly, he reminded him of himself.
When Dimitri was a boy, he was about Sam’s age when his father really began abusing him. From the times he’d hold him down and beat him with his belt, to the days he’d lock him in his room without food for days.
He told him he was making him tougher.
All he was doing was making him mean.
Like that abused dog, he’d turned him from someone who could have been lovable into something dark, angry, and more prone to bite.
He could remember all those days where he would be in his room, his back bloody and damaged, and he prayed for a way out.
That’s when the stealing began.
Dimitri stole food.
His mother didn’t give a shit about him, and she barely remembered to close her legs. So, he had to walk through the markets, and take what wasn’t his.
Oh, he’d been caught, but when he told them his name, they set him free.
They all knew his father, Constantine. He was named for an emperor with the heart and soul of the Devil, himself.
The man was pure evil.
Now that he had a son, or would as soon as the papers were signed, he’d make sure Sam was never broken any more.
He deserved a chance.
Dimitri would try and balance the debts he owed by doing one more thing right.
It was all he could do.
So, as he stood at the boy’s door, he stared in at him. Sam was tucked into his bed, and on time. That had been the first battle. He wanted to stay up all night like him, but a growing boy needed certain things.
Food.
Shelter.
Clothing.
Love.
Sleep.
Sam was going to be a handful. He was fighting against the rules, and he was continually calling all the women ‘babe’. While funny, it wasn’t right. Dimitri didn’t want him objectifying women even if it was a way to break the ice.
Sam didn’t take that rule very well either, and Dimitri had his hands full.
When he ‘borrowed’ a car from the garage to ‘drive into town for some stuff’, Dimitri had to put his foot down—and hide the keys.
It was expected.
When you had a kid, who had nothing his whole life and who was barely fed each day, there was bound to be issues. He had been barely kept alive, and then he was dropped into Terrace Glen.
For Sam, it had to be overwhelming.
This was a playground.
There was food everywhere.
The house had a theater.
A game room.
A pool.
It was a kid’s wildest dream come true and a grown man’s too.
Then you show a boy a building full of cars…
It was bound to happen. Fortunately for them, Sam was a decent driver, but shitty at stealing.
He had a lot to learn.
They’d managed to have the car locked down before they had to report it stolen.
They’d found him pissed and locked in the vehicle, trying to get out. It amused the hell out of Dimitri.
The kid could barely see over the wheel, and he was cursing like a sailor.
It was as if he had actually spawned the child. Dimitri knew this one was going to be tough.
Sam didn’t like being told no.
The kid wanted to learn everything he could so he could assimilate into their world. All they really wanted him to learn was math.
English.
Russian.
History.
They were trying to instill in him that an education was priceless, and that he had to get one.
You’d think they told him he was in prison.
That was the second biggest fight. He wouldn’t go to public school, and he hated male tutors.
The kid was making him work for it, but it was worth it. An education was so valuable. He’d barely known how to read when he entered the military. His love of books had helped him get smarter, and more dangerous.
A boy with a mind could move mountains.
A damaged boy with smarts could conquer the world.
And he had.
Well, Dimitri wanted that for him since he’d never had the chance to prove his intelligence. He’d gone right into the military, and then he escaped with Kat and Nat after killing his father.
There was no math.
There were no languages.
He had to pick them up on the fly. He’d been born a killer, bred to destroy, and never given a chance.
Dimitri wanted the opposite for Sam.
He was given no chance, but he’d have a good education, and he’d never be forced to kill.
Steal?
Okay, maybe.
The family business was the family business. There was nothing he could do about that. The kid was going to have to pitch in and do his time.
Like Kat.
Like Nat.
Like him.
As he watched from the doorway, the boy was sound asleep. He was shocked the child had gone to bed without a battle, and then he could tell why he’d slipped off to slumber without a fight.
Emma had been there.
He could tell.
The boy was tucked into the bed, and there was some big, stuffed, fluffy dog beside him. It was one that he didn’t own before. She was spoiling him rotten, and he didn’t even mind.
It made him smile.
It took a village, and he had his backup for this one.
Dimitri made a mental note to get the boy a real dog. Yes, he knew Greyson didn’t want one, but he figured every kid should have a pet.
He never had one, and look how he’d turned out. He had to stop that before it ever happened.
Dimitri wouldn’t wish his life on his worst enemy.
Closing the door, he headed to a control panel in the wall. Swiftly, he checked on all the occupants.
There was snoring from Dante and Steele’s room, so he knew they were in and safe.
Curtis and Katerina’s room was empty, since they weren’t back until tomorrow from their honeymoon.
He typed in a code, and the sound popped on for the pool house. There was giggling and moaning.
He turned it off and rubbed his temples.
Now he’d have to have a drink to forget about hearing Natasha and Christopher Ford fornicating.
Again.
Dimitri had a high sex drive, but Chris Ford? He wanted whatever the man was taking.
He was ALWAYS molesting Natasha.
It was nonstop.
Dimitri didn’t know if he should be glad or horrified by how much sex was going on in that pool house. It was like its own little love shack.
He’d puke. He didn’t want to dwell since it grossed him out. That was his baby sister, and for his own sanity, he didn’t want to picture it in his mind.
Next, he typed in the code for Greyson and Emma’s room—audio first. He could hear only her breathing. He turned on the camera and saw her alone in bed.
That was…odd.
Wherever the woman went, her husband was sure to follow. The man couldn’t stay away from her.
In fact, Greyson must be popping the same pill that Chris Ford was too.
Now his curiosity was piqued. He needed to find the man so he could relax.
As he searched the house, he found Greyson in his office. He was sitting behind his desk working.
Dimitri headed there to see what was bothering him. If he was up working while Emma was sleeping, there had to be a reason.
There was likely a storm brewing.
In the doorway of his office, he saw him.
“Working?” he asked.
Greyson looked up. “Yeah, I’m handling something that Curtis sent me. Would you like to join me for a drink?” he asked.
Dimitri headed in.
“Sure.”
He sat.
Greyson poured them both some bourbon and tossed him a cigar. “This is the last room I can smoke in,” he said, already knowing what the man was thinking.
It was clearly on his face.
Dimitri laughed. “Yeah, well, you’re pussy whipped.”
“I’m not giving my unborn child birth defects for the pleasure I get from a cigar. I’ll wait. One day, I’ll smoke around my kitten again.”
Croft missed having his cigar girl. It had fueled so many fantasies he couldn’t keep track of them all.
Maybe, when he climbed back into bed, he’d act a few of them out.
Dimitri lit his cigar and tossed his friend his lighter.
“You’re a better man than I am,” Dimitri admitted without an ounce of animosity in his voice because it was true.
It was fact.
Greyson heard the tone, and he knew right away something was bugging the man. He leaned back in his chair and studied Dimitri like he’d done so many times before.
He was edgy.
Croft could see it in his normally calm features. The sharp angular nose, the deep aqua eyes, and his strong brow were all showing the stress.
Here was a man on the edge.
He could see it because they’d become close. They shared secrets.
Everything.
They’d killed together.
“Why do you look pissy?” Greyson finally asked when the man didn’t offer anything.
“I’m not.”
He lifted a brow.
Yeah, he’d just lied.
With Dimitri, you didn’t force him to share. He was one of those people who would suffer in silence, and be a martyr.
“You realize you can tell me anything, right?”
“Your wife is sexy when she sleeps.”
He didn’t react.
This was more proof that there was a shitload of self-loathing going on. Dimitri knew who he was baiting, and he was in the mood for a fight.
Well, he wasn’t getting one.
“Yeah, I know. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”
Dimitri took a puff of his cigar and wanted to apologize for the shittiness he had just handed him. Greyson hadn’t been miserable, and he didn’t deserve to deal with his BS.
“Why are you in here working?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be asleep with your wife?”
Oh, he wished.
That was where he had been, and then he had to deal with one more mess in Vegas.
“We have a problem, and I don’t know what to do about it,” Greyson said.
Dimitri was curious. “Only one problem? What happened to the other ninety-eight of them?” he asked.
Croft laughed. “I know, right? They are right here,” he said, tapping his head. “I’m working my way through them one by one, but this was the one at the top of the list.”
“What’s our problem?” he asked.
Greyson loved how the man always wanted to help. It was never their issue or his family, or their lives. It was always OUR. That mattered.
“Here.”
He slid the file toward him. “It came after dinner. Curtis and Kat found it in Philadelphia.”
“I thought they were going to Celestia.”
“It’s only forty minutes away. I was curious. I worked out of there, and I had some friends who pulled some strings with some money.”
“So you bribed people?”
“Yes.”
“You realize you can just say that. It is what it is,” he offered, as he flipped open the file to read it.
He knew when Dimitri saw it.
“Oh.”
Yeah, he’d thought the same thing.
He looked up. “Well, this is bad on all kinds of levels,” he offered.
Greyson knew it.
“This explains why you have a naked woman in bed and you’re sitting here with me.”
Preaching to the choir. He’d rather be in bed.
“Here’s my conundrum. Do I tell her? Do I dredge up the past and tell my wife that a man she’d slept with once, and who her brother had warned her to stop seeing, was actually the man who planned her brother’s death?”
Yeah, this was ugly.
Dimitri thought about it.
Greyson knew he was weighing all the pros and cons, as he tried to navigate what he should do. If anyone could help him, it would be Dimitri.
This was his thing.
“I wouldn’t tell her.”
Greyson needed his opinion.
“Talk me out of it,” he said. “Marriages are supposed to be open, and this…”
He got it.
This was one more reason why he was never falling in love. It clouded your judgment, and as a soldier, you couldn’t be weak. You had to be ready for anything. This was weighing on Greyson instead of him just making the decision.
Thomas Christ lived.
Or he died.
It was that damn simple.
“If you tell her, she’s going to be hurt. It’s clear to see that Emma was damaged that day.”
Oh, he didn’t know the half of it.
Damaged wasn’t the word he’d use. She couldn’t eat meat, she’d wake from nightmares, and she still had dreams where she couldn’t save him.
All these years later, and she was still suffering.
And now she was with child.
His child.
“If you tell her that she’s been intimate with the person who plotted Gage Starling’s murder, that’s going to be brutal for her. She was betrayed. No one likes that feeling of betrayal.”
Greyson happened to agree.
“If I don’t tell her, I’m going to betray her. Will I then be the man who saved her heart or broke it?”
Yeah, he got it.
It was a slippery slope.
Again, this was exactly why Dimitri wouldn’t find a woman and do all of this.
It was too much.
It was damaging.
“I still stick with my initial thought on this. I wouldn’t do it, Grey. She’s pregnant. You don’t need this landing in her lap and making her do something…”
“Stupid?” he asked.
“Dangerous. She’ll confront him. You have evidence. If that gets out, he’s going to strike at her and at you. None of this is a coincidence, and you know it.”
Yeah, he did, but he didn’t care about himself. There was nothing they could throw at him that he couldn’t take.
He did care about Emma, and he couldn’t risk her.
Not now.
“Then what do we do?”
Dimitri laughed. “I’ll handle it. I have some connections at a couple clubs. I can head there, and he can disappear.”
“Fuck no, Dimitri. You’re not my personal killer, and you’re not hiring a hit man. That’s how people get caught.”
Oh, he was aware, but what did it matter?
He was expendable.
“You aren’t going to ‘handle’ anything, and you’re not heading to one of those places to do any deals. Don’t dance with the devil, son, if you can help it.”
Dimitri was always amused when he called him ‘son’. Yes, Greyson was probably eight years older than him, but Dimitri had seen his share of death.
It aged his soul.
“Besides,” Greyson stated, “If I can’t do it myself, I can’t ask you to do it.”
“I’d do it for Emma in a heartbeat,” he admitted. “I’d do anything for her.”
It was said.
There was the truth.
Men only killed for so many reasons. They were both aware of those reasons. They were either paid to do it, they were angry enough to do it, or they loved the person they were doing it for.
He didn’t doubt which Dimitri fell under.
This man loved Emma, even if he was hard pressed to admit it. Croft could see it in his eyes when he watched her. He wasn’t blind.
“I’ll handle it,” Greyson stated.
“How?” Dimitri asked.
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll work on it. I’m not rushing into it.”
“Well, if you get caught, I get to marry your wife after you’re incarcerated.”
He laughed. “Okay, you can handle it because the day I picture you with my wife doing anything but talking is the day I drop dead anyway.”
Dimitri gave him that infamous grin.
“Here I offered to help, and you’ve ruined it for me,” he teased. “Spoilsport. Seriously, how are you going to handle it?” he asked, curiously.
“I don’t know. I haven’t really planned a murder before. I’m new at this kind of thing.”
Yeah, Dimitri was aware.
That was EXACTLY why he couldn’t let him do it.
This was a jail sentence in the making.
“How about this? WE handle it. That way you have an alibi, and you have my expertise.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want you carrying this on your soul,” he said. “You’re carrying too much, Dimitri. I can see it. As of late, you’re slipping.”
He put his drink down and stared at the man.
Was he questioning his abilities? That was all he had left, and if that were the case, he was useless.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, trying not to be offended. “I’m not slipping. I’m good at my job.”
Greyson moved around the desk. “You can’t kill forever and not have it affect you. You can’t pretend it doesn’t.”
He got it.
He wasn’t insulting him, but trying to protect him. Well, Dimitri didn’t need his protection.
That was his thing.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, okay. Well, you’re a stronger man than I am. I’m not fine. I don’t want to kill another person, but I know this has to be handled. Thomas Christ set up a hit. He killed Gage Starling, and he is a cop killer.”
“Yeah, and I’m a cop killer. I’ll take Christ out.”
“No. We do nothing for now. We do nothing until I’m sure it has to be handled.”
“You yourself said…”
He was aware what he said.
“No, Dimitri.”
“Your morals are frustrating.”
“Yeah, I’m a pain in the ass like that when I don’t want someone I care about to get hurt.”
Dimitri tossed back the bourbon.
That was the difference between them. One man had the luxury to care.
The other…not so much.
“I’ll handle it.”
“I mean it. You don’t do anything. I told you this in confidence. Don’t you dare go after the man. For all I know, it’s a trap. What if this is a way to catch us? I need to think this out, and decide what to do about Emma.”
“No one figured out Mace. I think I can kill a person without leaving a sign over them that points at us.”
He was aware.
“And look at the shit that buried us under. I don’t want another cop going down, and us wearing the shit from the blowback. We have too much to lose.”
He was getting frustrated.
Dimitri didn’t like being told what to do.
It pissed him off.
Well, he was already irritable, but this added to it, and it made him want to rebel in the worst possible way.
He wanted to kill someone.
For Emma.
For him.
“If you’re done talking to me, I’m going to head out. I have things to do.”
Greyson knew what he was going to do. Dimitri was going to hire a hooker and have sex. It was his normal Saturday night ritual.
“Okay.”
“That tone, Greyson. It says otherwise,” he stated, the Russian seeping back into his voice. When Dimitri was pissed, he couldn’t hold it back.
It scared people.
It didn’t scare Greyson.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Greyson said, pouring himself more bourbon.
“Bullshit. Just say it!”
He turned. “Hey, don’t read into it. I’m not your mother. I’m not here to police your dick. If you want to dance all over that rabbit hole, that’s on you when you fall down it and can’t get out.”
“Why does it bother you?” he asked. “Why does it bother your wife?”
Did he really not get it?
“Because I think you matter more than you do, and for the life of me, I can’t get you to see that. Emma feels the same way. We see the value in you.”
“Yeah, I protect you both.”
Greyson slammed down his glass.
“Is that all you think?”
Dimitri stubbed out his cigar. This was escalating, and he didn’t want to be angry, but they were right.
It ate away at him.
But it was all he had. They didn’t get that because they had what he’d never achieve.
No one could love a cold, dead-inside man who lost his soul so long ago that he couldn’t recall the last time he enjoyed feeling.
They knew love.
He only knew pain.
Dimitri planned to just walk away, but when he opened his mouth…
Yeah, it got worse.
“We don’t all have pretty little lives where we find the woman of our dreams across a field.”
Greyson stared at him.
“Some of us have to find that comfort in ways that aren’t so pretty. Don’t judge me and my dick because you have no clue what lives in me. You see this man, not the truly hideous one no one can bare to look at.”
Greyson sighed.
It was time to back off.
“I’m not judging you.”
“Worse, don’t pity me. I don’t want that from you, and I don’t want it from your fucking perfect life in your ivory castle. When I go down, Greyson, I know that there will not be that love to have my back.”
He turned to walk away.
“Dimitri.”
The man stopped at the door.
“What? More pity?” he asked, his voice bitter with so much anger and resentment. Only, it wasn’t for Greyson.
It was for him.
You lived and died by your choices, and he’d chosen this path.
Croft wanted to shake some sense into him, but this was Dimitri.
“I’m sorry. Just be safe, okay? Christ and his asshole dirty cops would love to catch us off guard. I’m sorry I’m edgy. This has me rattled. I don’t know what to do. I’m torn.”
He turned, staring into the man’s silver eyes.
“I told you. I’ll handle it.”
Greyson knew he was in no position to be handling this, or where he put his dick.
Someone was a runaway train.
“Please.”
Dimitri was tired of arguing. He wanted to escape it.
“Fine. See you tomorrow.”
He slammed the door, and he headed out. Out in the garage, Dimitri picked a car that could outrace the media, and the cops, if need be.
He was so damn angry, that he just wanted to drive for days until he couldn’t drive anymore.
He wanted to escape that pain.
But it chased him.
Dialing the madam he used frequently, he headed out and put in his order.
“I need someone new. I need an adventure.”
He wanted to be wild.
Rough.
Angry.
“Mr. Ivanov, I thought you might be taking this week off. Normally, you call before now.”
“Yes, I’m running behind with business. I really am in the mood for some company. Can you find me someone?” he asked, letting all the Russian out.
He was tired of pretending he was something he wasn’t. Tonight, when the girl came, he’d be himself.
He’d be that bastard.
“I happen to have someone new,” she offered. “Tonight is her first night.”
He wasn’t sure that was a good idea. He needed someone with experience. This wasn’t going to be about her learning. He needed someone to ride his dick and make him forget.
Still…
It was this or likely no one.
“Send her.”
Dimitri hated living this lie, but he’d pretend he was someone else just to feel. He was empty. Tonight, Mr. Ivanov would get off. Dimitri Gideon would lie in wait in the shadows like the sick predator he was.
It was for the best.
“Are you sure?” she asked, sensing his hesitation. “I can come if you need me.”
That was the last thing he needed. He’d slept with Stephanie before, when she was just starting out. He didn’t take the same ride twice.
It was always a bad idea.
His soul.
His heart.
The well of strength.
It was running out. He was faltering.
“The new girl will be fine,” he answered, hoping he was right.
“Okay, Mr. Ivanov. If you change your mind, for the special fee, I can come.”
He was aware.
While he’d enjoyed her, Dimitri needed this anonymity. She would know him if she saw him, and that was the last thing he wanted.
“Thank you, Stephanie. As always, you never let me down,” he offered.
“Have fun, Mr. Ivanov.”
He hoped he would.
What he needed was a distraction. Tomorrow, he’d head into ‘Aquarius’, and he’d find them a case.
They needed to work.
He needed to work.
“Send her to the hotel. My normal room. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll have her there in thirty. Our standard rate?”
“Da. That is good,” he offered in broken English.
He hung up.
As he cleared the gate, he watched the house in the rearview mirror. He could see Greyson watching from his office window.
It pissed him off.
Lately, everything did.
Dimitri hit the gas and took off. In two hours, he’d be okay. He’d let off some steam, find that release, and be able to go another day.
He tried not to think about how he was having to hire women more often, or how he wasn’t getting that rush that he once got.
He knew why.
Dimitri had caught something.
Morals.
And frankly, they sucked.
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
He felt horrible watching him leave.
Dimitri was on a one-way course with death, and Greyson could see it.
Only, what was he supposed to do?
He couldn’t baby the man.
He wasn’t his father.
Greyson had to let him figure it out on his own. There came a time when you couldn’t control all the players in the game. Greyson had a million other issues to deal with, starting with his wife.
What the hell was he going to do?
As he shut everything off in his office, he knew where he needed to be.
Heading to their room, he checked on Sam, and he was asleep. Continuing down the hall, he reached their bedroom.
His queen was in bed.
Naked.
At first, Greyson thought about letting her sleep, but as he stripped down and slid beneath the covers, it became too alluring to ignore it.
His kitten was right there.
He’d been drinking.
She smelled amazing.
The next thing he knew, he was molesting his wife, and he didn’t care if she was asleep.
He needed her.
“Emma,” he whispered, as his mouth moved down her neck, to her breasts, and her belly button.
She shifted, going into his body.
Emma’s eyes fluttered open, and she could smell the cigar and bourbon on him.
He’d been up working.
“Greyson,” she whispered, “are you okay?”
“I need a break from thinking,” he said, rolling to his back. He knew his wife, and she was exactly what he needed.
“I’ll make you forget,” she murmured as she continued to leave a trail of light butterfly kisses that offered him reassurance.
Croft let her do her thing, and it was exactly what the doctor ordered.
He was rock hard, and she was leaving kisses all the way down his chest.
“Emma,” he whispered as he stared in awe that the beautiful woman in their bed was his and his alone. This was reason enough to kill anyone.
His wife was above him, and her form was illuminated by the moonlight coming through their window.
She looked like a goddess.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too, and I have you, Grey,” she crooned, as she continued her gentle exploration with her mouth.
He was tense, and not in a sexual way.
He was stressed.
That made Emma want to soothe him even more.
Allowing her lips to travel lower, across his navel and past his muscle-corded hips, she used the tip of her tongue to torment him.
He moaned.
As she added in her hands, he couldn’t help but find peace. His wife knew him, and Greyson was eternally grateful for that.
She got it.
He needed this.
With her fingers, she traced hearts across his thighs to remind him of what they had.
“Yes, honey, God! Yes,” he said, as she came ever so close to his erection.
Emma took her time, blowing across his dick as she watched it tighten and bob. It was begging for her attention. With her fingers, she stroked and soothed—offering the never-ending promise of her love.
Leaving a trail of kisses, she slid up his frame, resting him in just the right spot as she stared down into his eyes. “I love you, my husband. I’ll make it all right,” she promised, sliding him home in one stroke.
“Emma,” he whispered, his body bowing beneath her at the hot, wet slide into the heat. “You’re my everything,” he vowed.
His fingers found her hips, as her hands rested on his chest. He knew it was coming.
She watched him fill with emotion as she began her slow ride. With each stroke up his erection, his breathing matched. At that moment, there was perfect syncopation as she rocked them both to ecstasy.
This was perfection.
He was the reason she existed.
This man was her all, and the way he was watching her was enough to put her over the edge.
Emma focused on him.
His breath hitched as she rode him.
Greyson couldn’t look away. She was rumpled from sleep, all that red hair—a halo around her.
Croft had never seen a more beautiful woman. She was his siren, and this was their song.
“Never leave me,” he whispered. “I’d die without you my queen.”
It made her heart hitch.
“I’ll never leave you, Greyson,” she whispered, placing her hand over his heart. “We are one,” she vowed, as his hand covered hers.
“Forever.”
She kept rocking, and he kept pulling her hips down with one hand. There was that feeling of complete happiness as they came together.
Emma was close.
As she tightened around him, he moaned her name, and refused to fight it. When she fell, he would follow.
He’d chase the only woman he loved.
There was no Greyson without Emma. They were meant to be one.
Emma shook, and then there was that gasp of pleasure before she shattered and collapsed.
Greyson could feel her tumble and went for the ride, just allowing himself that fall into perfection and bliss with his woman.
They laid together, bodies pressed as one, and their breathing slowed.
When she could focus past the sleep and pleasure, she needed to know.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He wouldn’t lie.
He couldn’t.
“Dimitri.”
She sighed. “He left again, didn’t he?” she asked.
He didn’t have to speak.
She already knew.
The man was on a mission of self-loathing, and they were going to lose him if they couldn’t reach him.
“What do we do?” she asked.
He didn’t know, but now, his ninety-nine problems were up to one hundred, and it wasn’t looking good.
For anyone.
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
Thirty
Minutes
Later
She was nervous.
The madam told her he was her best customer, and to treat him well. She wanted to, but she was so afraid.
She’d heard the other girls talking, and Mr. Ivanov was likely one of the men who had ‘bought’ her sister. He seemed to get preferential treatment from the madam, and that had to mean something, right?
She couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t matter. She’d get him to talk. Once he did, she was willing to slit his throat.
If he touched her sister, he was dead.
That’s it.
Hope was lost, and it was desperate times. She couldn’t let him have any more women like her sister.
He was a predator like the rest of them, and these women were nothing but prey.
It ended here.
Pulling the blade out of her bag, she headed to the luxurious hotel room door. As she took a deep breath, she prayed he’d give her the answers that she needed.
Someone had to know.
Someone had to see her.
A person didn’t just disappear into thin air.
Right?
Knocking on the door, she was ready. She was getting answers, or the man wasn’t leaving alive.
She was done.
It was time to find her sister.
When he heard the knock, he was just about to take off his suit.
“Mr. Ivanov?” she called through the door. “Stephanie sent me.”
It was his girl.
There was that little tingle of awareness, almost as if he recognized her voice, but he chose to ignore it.
Did he know her?
How could that be?
He specifically asked for a new girl.
Stephanie had never let him down before. She was good at catering to his needs.
After all, he’d used her for years.
“Come in! The door is open. I’m in here getting ready for our little date.”
He pulled off his tie, and he began slipping out of his suit jacket. He was thinking about getting off, getting home, and then handling the Thomas Christ situation.
Honestly, he was thinking about Emma. He was worried about her heart when she heard all about this.
Despite wanting to stop thinking, she was on his mind.
Then, he heard the girl coming up behind him.
It was time to get off, and then he’d deal with the rest. He needed these few minutes to find himself.
“I’ll be ready in a minute. You can undress and get on the bed. There’s money for you on the…”
He caught a glint of something from the corner of his eye in the mirror across the room, and it saved his life.
He turned just in time. The blade would have gone through his back and into his heart had he not turned. Instead, it pierced his shoulder, cutting into his flesh.
Dimitri spun, catching the woman off guard. In the process, he was surprised, too, and by more than the knife sticking out of his flesh.
“Marissa?” he asked, completely confused.
She sucker punched him in the face, and he fell back.
“What did you do to my sister?” she asked, before she attacked him, trying to claw out his eyes.
Dimitri avoided one hand, but she scratched the hell out of his neck.
“I’m going to fucking kill you, you sick fuck!” she raged, as she kept trying to make him bleed.
Dimitri was confused, so he did the only thing he could.
Dimitri brought up his elbow and knocked her out.
As she fell back onto the bed, he was only thinking one thing.
What the bloody hell was this?
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
Across Town
He was bored.
When he picked Vegas, he thought it would keep him entertained.
Oh, and it had.
Vegas was an unusual place, and he’d seen a lot of places in his life. He may not be old, but he was wise to the world.
He’d traveled.
He killed.
He’d done everything his government had asked him to do. He’d lived up to his father’s memory.
Now he was here.
He was intrigued by the city that never slept, and the flashing lights. He was enthralled by the women he could buy, and he would be pleased when he found his ultimate prize.
Yes, it was about the sex and the slutty little treasures he found along the way, but it was about more.
He needed to find his brother. Then, when he did, he’d enact his revenge.
For his father.
For his blood.
All these years, it had been almost impossible to find him. Then, he saw him.
Ironically, he was on the news, and there was no doubt that he was the one.
There was that flash of a news story, as he rested in his hotel room in New York. He saw him, it was only a few seconds, but he recognized him.
He looked like their father.
They had the same eyes.
They shared the same cheekbones.
Dimitri Gideon was his brother, and they had a date to finish up some things.
How did he know this was destined from the day he was born?
Rumor travelled, and finally, it had gotten back to them.
Well, to his mother.
She told him everything when he asked about his father. There was only one picture of him in their home, and he cherished it. Constantine had been holding him the day he was born.
His mother said he was so proud to have a good son.
And he wanted to live up to that.
Oh, and he would.
Yes, he’d heard the stories about his great father, the KGB man who served his country well, and he’d heard the lies to smear his character.
He didn’t buy into them, and he never would. Yes, he may have had an icy cold heart, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t love him and his mother.
Yes, he’d used pain to get his way, and he couldn’t blame him. Weak people needed to be dominated.
Look at his slutty treasures.
He still loved the man.
As he grew up, alone, with only a mother, he never understood why.
She was KGB, too, and she was lovely.
When he was a teenager, he found the picture. He found the face that launched a million questions, and he’d learned about the man who made him.
He loved his mother.
They had a passionate affair.
Then, one day, he was killed in his own home. It took years to find out who did it. It took bribes, listening to a ton of bull, but he found the truth.
He was killed by his son.
His brother.
That was a travesty.
As he went to work for the government, killing for them, he grew to hate the man who took his father’s life—his mother’s one true love.
He festered in the anger.
He vowed to find him.
Then, when his mother died, he sought revenge. If not for him, for her. She struggled her whole life without the man she loved. She said he was callous to the world.
Hard.
Difficult.
But to her, he was sweet, and she missed him.
So, he was going to find his killer.
He was going to make sure he paid.
After all, he obviously didn’t realize that you didn’t betray your own blood. It was thicker than water. It was all you ever had in life.
When you betrayed it, you had to pay.
So that was the real reason he was in Vegas, but he’d still have fun.
He’d still terrorize a few people.
Starting with his brother.
They may have shared the same aqua eyes, the same nose, and skills, but in the end, Viktor knew one thing.
Maximillian couldn’t hide.
Anfisa wasn’t safe.
Anzehlina was just as guilty.
And in the end, they would pay. They violated something so sacred. They betrayed their country, working for the Americans.
They betrayed their heritage.
They betrayed family.
And that meant one thing.
Death.