Chapter 6

Adrian

 

 

 

My mood was dark as I took care of business the next morning. I had responsibilities that needed my attention and men to deal with. As Vito had requested—that was how I was going to look at his command that I help with the Santino Jr. issue—I had feelers out all over the city. I knew Vito had a shitload of people in low places, but mine were even lower. I had an entire army who could easily pretend to be homeless to get the information I needed. It was how I kept on top of the game.

My people had spotted the worthless piece of shit a few times over the last few days, but nothing noteworthy had happened. Therefore, I had advised my men to simply keep their distance, yet watch out for him.

I knew Jr.’s reputation, had seen the aftermath of one of his temper tantrums. His favorite hobby was beating women. It got him off. Rape was also another favorite pastime for him.

The sonofabitch had hurt one of the girls at a pleasure house that was only one of many of my businesses. The poor girl had been a bloodied mess when I had gone to see the damages the bastard had wrought. The bruises had taken up more than half her body. The deep cuts and all that blood were enough to turn even the most iron-casted stomachs.

If there was anything I abhorred more, it was men who liked to hurt women. If something like that ever happened to Anya, I would kill the man responsible with my bare hands.

Thus, you could say I had my reasons for wanting a little alone time with Jr. But I was biding my time, waiting to see what his next move would be. Letting him get comfortable before I annihilated that sorry excuse for a man.

Vito didn’t have to know that, and I wouldn’t tell him.

When Cristiano had called to ask if I had seen Jr., I had told him no. Other than the fact that the Santino crime family and the Vituccis were rivals, I didn’t completely understand why they were in a hurry to find Jr. Still, I was going to give it a few more days.

At lunch time, I went back to my apartment building. It had been one of the first purchases I had made when I had first come to the States. Back then, it had been rundown, so I had gotten it for pennies on the dollar. I had my crew come in and gut it, and then redid every floor, turning it into homes for some of my men. When Anya and Taras had joined me shortly after, I had gifted them both their own apartments, each of them having their own floors to themselves so they would never have the need to find bigger accommodations if they decided to start a family.

Taras’ floor had been directly under mine, and now belonged to Klara and Theo. When I had a free hour or so, I usually stopped in to check on Theo, to play with him and see how he was doing at the private pre-school he attended four days a week. He was only my nephew, but my name was on his birth certificate, something I had made sure of, even though I had still been locked up.

Even though he wasn’t my son, I had a soft spot for the kid. He was my blood, after all.

No matter what my affection was for the boy, I always dreaded our visits for one reason.

Klara.

Fuck, if there was ever a woman I detested more, it was that conniving little bitch. She had tricked my brother into her bed, then trapped him by becoming pregnant. All while I had still been in prison. She was why my brother was dead, and if she had not been pregnant with Theo when I had found out the truth, I would have killed her.

Even with his death, she had still gotten what she wanted—a Volkov for a husband. But I’d had the last laugh.

There was no way she was getting everything that came with the title of my wife. The money wasn’t in easy access for her. She had a limit on the cards she used, and once that limit was met every month, she didn’t get any more. The power and prestige that came with being my wife was also lost to her. Everyone in our world knew what she had done, and they were just as disgusted with her as I was. No one would ever give her the respect that being my wife would have normally given a woman.

Theo was taken care of, though. I had a nanny in place to ensure that every one of his needs were met. He wanted for nothing. He never would. I had made sure of that, too. And when he turned eighteen, his mother would be kicked out of the apartment that had once been his father’s. He could decide to take care of her if he wanted, but I didn’t foresee that happening.

Theo was a smart kid. Even at his tender age, he wasn’t blind to her. I knew he would rather spend time with his nanny, or even Anya, rather than his mother. But it was only for his sake that I didn’t get rid of her. Didn’t do what I had been dreaming of doing since I had gotten the news that my brother was dead.

Klara had been there when it had happened, had been fucking around with one of my enemies even while she had been pregnant with Taras’ son. I couldn’t prove it, but I was sure she had lured Taras to the abandoned building where her lover had jumped him with six other men and had beaten my brother to death.

If I had solid proof, I would kill her. But I didn’t. And as long as Theo loved his mother, she would be allowed to breathe another day.

Knowing that Theo would be home for lunch, I punched in the code that would unlock his floor. The elevator ride was short, and I was already preparing myself for the irritation I knew I was going to have when I saw Klara.

Lately, she had only gotten more demanding. She was pushing all my wrong buttons if she thought she could tempt me by trying to whore herself out for a bigger monthly allowance.

Unlike my own apartment, the elevator didn’t open up into the living room. It was a small foyer decorated with expensive yet tacky pictures on the walls. When Taras had still been alive, she had redecorated the entire place, spending close to half a million dollars doing so. I had allowed her to keep her atrocious décor, not giving a damn what the place looked like since I wasn’t going to be living with her. Anya never came up there, saying she would vomit all over the garish furniture if she had to spend more than two minutes in the apartment.

I could hear the happy chatter of Theo’s voice as I moved through the apartment. I entered the living room, but it was empty as usual. Following the sound of laughter, I went to his playroom that was across from his bedroom. The door was open, but I paused outside the room, watching him with his nanny for a moment.

Dressed in a simple blue shirt and jean shorts, he was sitting at a small table, a coloring book and crayons set in front of him. His dark hair was shaggy, falling into his dark eyes. His father’s eyes.

The nanny, the daughter of the woman who had been mine and my siblings’ nanny, pushed it out of his eyes. This must have been what all the laughing was about, because when she brushed his hair back from his face, Theo giggled and shook his head. His hair fell forward again, making the nanny gasp in mock frustration.

When he laughed like that, I could see Taras in every feature. The sight warmed my heart, but tore at something deep inside me that hadn’t healed in the years since my brother’s death.

Taras would live on in Theo, but it drove me mad he wouldn’t get to see his son grow up. That he was gone, while Theo’s mother got to waste her days spending the money I allowed her, rather than spending time with her son.

I must have unknowingly made a noise, because Theo’s head snapped around and his already smiling face beamed with a grin as he jumped to his feet and ran to me. “Papochka!” he greeted me happily in Russian. “Have you come to play with me?”

Only legally was I Theo’s father. One day, I would tell him about Taras. Until then, it made me happy for him to call me his father. Once he knew about my brother, I would let him decide how he would address me. Regardless, he would always be my heir, and I would teach him how to run the businesses.

“For a little while, yes.” I lifted him into my arms, rubbing my nose against his affectionately the way I knew he liked. His giggle of delight warmed me to my soul. “Can you fit me into your busy schedule, do you think?”

“I always have time for you, Papochka.” He wiggled until I put him on his feet, and then he took my hand, pulling me over to the table where his nanny was already sitting quietly. “Elissa and I are going to eat lunch in here. Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” I assured him as I took one of the miniature wooden chairs between Elissa and Theo. “What are we having?”

“Cook made us sandwiches and pasta salad.” He made a sour face. “I don’t like pasta salad.”

Elissa gave him a stern frown. “Which would you rather have? The pasta or the broccoli that Cook has also made?”

“Pasta!” Theo quickly answered as the nanny rose from her chair.

“As I thought.” She turned her amused eyes to me. “And you, sir? Which would you prefer?”

I shrugged. “I’m happy with anything, Elissa. I missed breakfast, so I really am starving.” My day had been so busy I hadn’t thought about my empty stomach until Theo had mentioned food. Now I had a gnawing hunger.

She gave me a disapproving frown that reminded me so much of her mother—my own nanny—that I nearly winced, expecting her to swat me on the back of the head. Instead, she only shook her head and muttered to herself as she went to put our lunches together.

Alone with the boy, we spent the time catching up, chatting about how his morning at preschool had been.

While his excited chatter had me grinning and encouraging him to tell me what happened next, I felt my phone get a few texts, but I chose to ignore them. There was a chance that one might have been with Victoria, and my fingers itched to pull the phone from my slack’s pocket, but Theo deserved my undivided attention. Our time was limited as it was, so when I did get to visit with him, I made sure he knew he was important to me.

Half an hour later, with my stomach now full and Theo fighting to keep his eyes open, I figured it was time to go. Klara hadn’t made an appearance, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she realized I was in the apartment.

That was the hard part—having to say goodbye to him. I never knew if I would see him again the next day, so I never made any promises, not wanting to disappoint him if I couldn’t make it.

Elissa, sensing my time was over, stood. “Nap time, I think,” she informed her charge.

“But I’m not tired, Elissa,” Theo complained, even as he fought back a yawn.

“Don’t tell fibs, pchelka,” she chided with a small smile, using the nickname she had always used for him and calling him her ‘little bee.’

She was good to him, but she was his nanny, not his mother. The boy needed one who would love him and worry about him. Someone who would take care of him until her last breath was breathed. Unfortunately for Theo, that wasn’t the woman who had given birth to him.

Giving Elissa a small pout, he came over to give me a hug. “Goodbye, Papochka.”

I hugged him back. “Goodbye, Theo. See you soon, yeah?”

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” I told him, not wanting to disappoint him. I never knew from one day to the next what kind of issues would pop up that would need my attention.

Accepting my answer, he gave me another hug then took the nanny’s offered hand and let her lead him across the hall to his bedroom where she shut the door.

I slowly stood and pulled my phone from my pocket as I headed out of the room. There were several messages waiting for me, and I was happy to see one was from Victoria.

As I walked through the apartment toward the elevator, planning on going up to my own to shower, my attention was on the message from my little kotyonok. I hadn’t slept much the night before after dropping her off. I kept feeling her against me as she had come apart both times. How she had told me she loved me as she had kissed me goodnight.

Fuck, I didn’t deserve her, but I would be damned if I ever gave her up. This thing with Klara could send her running, but even if it did, I wasn’t going to let her get far. That girl had become too important to me. In just a matter of days, she had become the other half of my soul.

“Adrian.”

If there was ever a voice saying my name that could turn my blood to ice, it was Klara’s.

I didn’t even pause as I lifted my hand to hit the call button for the elevator as I slowly turned to face my wife. Wearing a dress that barely covered her assets, I knew she was either just getting home or on her way out. She would rather party, getting drunk and high with a bunch of strangers, than spend time with her son. This was her usual club wear, the kind that demanded attention. Only, it couldn’t hold mine. It only turned my stomach.

The huge rock on her ring finger was blinding when the light hit it as she lifted a hand as if to touch my arm. I shrugged away from her attempted touch, hating her touch on me.

The sight of that ring always had the power to piss me off. Taras had bought that damn thing for her when she had told him she was pregnant. He hadn’t picked it out; she had—or so Anya had told me. That was a fucking blood diamond on her hand.

My brother’s blood.

The urge to eviscerate the bitch, to make sure she never breathed another day, was always so strong I could almost taste it. I wanted her gone, dead. No one would miss her, except for maybe Theo. I couldn’t be the reason his mother was dead, not when his father had been taken from him so brutally.

One reason, though, just one good enough reason, and I would erase her existence without losing a single second of sleep.

Her blue eyes were nearly gray, her makeup perfectly contoured, giving her the look of a high-priced whore. She belonged in one of my pleasure houses, but I wouldn’t subject anyone to this bitch’s touch.

She was beautiful all dolled up like this, I had to admit, but underneath all that paint and shine, she had a dark and ugly soul. If anyone could see her, the real her, they would shudder at the sight.

“I didn’t even know you were here,” she said with a well-practiced pout, the effect outweighed by her glassy and bloodshot eyes.

For half a second, I wondered what she was high on. She was too smart to shoot up, but there was a small smear of something white under her nose. Probably coke.

I gritted my teeth, hating that she was under the same roof with Theo. If it weren’t for Elissa, I wouldn’t ever let Klara this close to him.

“Then I planned my visit perfectly,” I told her, my tone cold and bored, my contempt for her blazing from my eyes. “I come to visit with Theo. I couldn’t give two fucks if you were here or not. And trust me, I really wish you weren’t.”

“And where would you rather I be, darling?” she purred before licking her plump lips suggestively.

My dick had never been so limp in my life. There was nothing—nothing—that could ever make me want to touch this woman.

Unless I was choking the life out of her.

“I would prefer Hell, but then again, that would be too good for you. I’m sure even the Devil himself wouldn’t want you around.”

“Why must we be at odds?” she murmured, sounding hurt, but I knew her game too well. She was a good actress. However, I could see past all of it. I could see the gold-digging, manipulative cunt she really was. “You’re my husband. Can’t we at least act civil?”

“I am acting civil. This is me being as civil as possible without vomiting or tossing you from the window.” I thrust my hands into my pockets, keeping my phone out of sight. All I needed was for her to see Victoria’s message. She would use her against me, or attempt to at the very least.

Tears filled her eyes. Again, I was immune to her tears just as easily as I was immune to her body. She could have cried a river, her sobs shaking her body, and I wouldn’t have felt even a flicker of compassion or remorse.

“I just want us to be a family, Adrian. Is that asking too much?”

“Yes.” The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside. “Allowing you to breathe the same air as anyone I care about is asking too much, but for Theo’s sake, I allow it. Don’t try my patience, Klara.”

The threat was less than veiled, and I enjoyed the scared look in her eyes before she hid it away. I wanted her to fear me, wanted her to remember I could make her disappear easily if I chose to. She was on borrowed time—my brother’s time. One reason, just one good one, and I would send her to hell where she belonged.

“You’re such a cold bastard,” she snapped, turning off the tears just as quickly as she had turned them on. Her blue eyes were full of fire and hate now, giving me a glimpse of the real her under all that paint. I preferred the scared look, but I would take this tough act over the “poor, pitiful, neglected wife,” one she wanted people to see so they would feel sorry for her.

I gave her a cold smile as I punched in the code to unlock my floor. “Proud of it, too, suka.”

Her face twisted with rage when I called her a bitch. As the doors slid shut between us, I heard her shriek and found myself actually chuckling.