“What a fucking dump. Disgusting,” Roksana seethed as she kicked a half-eaten fast food container out of her way. “Father pays his fighters well, so what’s this guy’s problem? Yeah, I can’t see this guy having a nice, tidy plan for whatever he intends to do to our family. I bet he’s making it up as he goes along.”
“Be careful. Don’t ever underestimate an enemy, no matter how inept they may seem.” Oleg systematically circled the room, examining every nook and cranny with a discerning eye. Even when he looked at a photograph he would work his way from the top corner all the way around it, up and down, each detail taken into account. He looked beneath every picture frame and every desk drawer, just in case anything of value, like a key or a passcode, was hidden there. Nothing was dismissed as irrelevant.
Roksana did what she always did, impatiently moving from room to room. Thoughts of her mother’s former stalker and his ‘wall of obsession’ flashed to the forefront of her mind, stirring up some seriously bad memories.
“Roksana.”
The clipped, urgent tone of his voice had her rushing into the front room where she found Oleg holding a photograph, his face contorted with rage. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was a picture of Sasha and Alex, side by side in their bassinettes in the hospital’s nursery.
“No fucking way. How in the hell does that dirt bag have a picture of the twins before they had even gotten home?”
“Looks like the picture was taken at the hospital,” he replied.
“Fuck. You don’t think this guy is crazy enough to really try to kidnap Nikita and Natasha’s babies, do you?”
“I think he’s looking for any perceived weakness when it comes to your father. Bjarke thinks Glazov would pay anything, do anything to get those babies back if they were kidnapped. And while that may be true in theory, Glazov would never let it get that far, so it’s a moot point.”
“That’s why he was casing the house tonight. He was trying to learn the household routine so he can make his move.”
“He’s not smart enough to pull something like this off.”
“But he’s obviously desperate enough to try.”
“Roksana, he’s demonstrated he can’t stay sober long enough to make it to the gym, much less execute a plan like that.”
“Right now, it’s a matter of timing -- sooner rather than later. So, we’ll pick his ass up, torture him, and then kill him. Then I’ll wrap him up and stick him under the fucking tree for my father to open Christmas morning. Problem solved.”
“I’ve got a better idea. I need to talk to your father before we proceed, though. When all’s clear, I’ll share it with you.”
“Always a man of mystery.” She knew enough to know Oleg wouldn’t tell her anything until he was ready to and she wasn’t going to waste her time trying to get it out of him. It wasn’t like him to keep things to himself, but she trusted him enough to let him do this job his way. Each job was different but this one was definitely uncharted territory. Somebody being stupid enough to think they could kidnap the Glazov twins was definitely a first.
“What’s so important that Roksana and Oleg are hell-bent on meeting with you?” Novak wondered aloud. “Can’t be anything good.”
“It isn’t like you to stress over details,” Glazov responded calmly. “They probably found something when they searched Bjarke’s house. I’m sure all will be revealed soon enough. Ah, here they are now. Enter,” he said as footsteps approached the door.
The door opened and Roksana and Oleg approached Glazov’s desk, their faces grim. Oleg didn’t say a word. He just tossed the photograph of the twins onto the Pakhan’s desk, his fury evident in his stiff posture and the firm set of his jaw.
“I’ll kill that fucking bastard,” Novak gritted out. “I’ll fucking kill him.” His face contorted with the kind of cruel rage that had put the fear of God in many an enemy’s heart.
Glazov merely laughed, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “The man is even more foolish than I thought. He actually thinks he’s going to kidnap my grandchildren and hold them for ransom…or worse. Oh, no, we will handle this situation differently. Rather than burning him alive, which would normally be my preference, we will make his death look like an accident. A particularly grisly accident,” he sneered, “but, nonetheless, an accident. Now is not the time to be drawing attention to ourselves. But there’s no reason why we can’t have a little fun. Let’s toy with him, let him think he’s getting one over on us.”
Novak narrowed his eyes at his cousin speculatively before a slow smile crossed his face. “You want to build him up--”
“—and then tear him the fuck down, yes. But in the meantime, I will take no chances.” Glazov pressed one of the intercom buttons on his desk. “Pavel, come to my office. Bring Beast.”
“Yes, my Pakhan.”
“Fucking hell,” Roksana whispered, her eyes wide. Pavel was one of the deadliest bodyguards they had. He had served the Pakhan for many years and was known for his unflinching loyalty and willingness to perform any task his Pakhan asked of him.
They all stood in silence until Pavel strode into the room with his German shepherd at his side. Pavel stood in front of Glazov’s desk, his face impassive as he greeted him with a slight bow. “Sir.”
Pavel had a face that was downright menacing—you could tell he was a hitman simply by looking at him. His bald head gleamed in the soft light of the Pakhan’s office. Several bones in his face had been crushed during hand-to-hand confrontations, and his eyes revealed a merciless soul. Even in middle age, his physical fitness was impressive. He rarely spoke, but his imposing 6’5”, 300-pound frame of bulky, hard muscle dominated any space he occupied.
Roksana and the other Glazov siblings had grown up always feeling safe whenever Pavel was around. As she took him in, she was impressed with how formidable he still was after so many years. His service to their family dated back to before her parents had found one another. She had once heard a story about how Pavel had been present in the room when her father had first seen her mother on a security feed at his old gambling house in New York. He had witnessed to the moment that changed Alexander Glazov forever. From that moment on, Pavel’s life of service grew to include protecting the growing Glazov family.
Roksana knew all too well that there was nothing kind or soft about Pavel. He was no GQ model, not even back in his youth. He always wore perfectly tailored suits, yet there was a primal quality about him. Sometimes Roksana wondered about his life and the distinct lack of personal connections there. He was alone in the world – with the exception of Beast, of course.
She frowned thoughtfully as she considered Pavel and his solitary life. He really was sexy in a raw, caveman sort of way. It would just take a woman who could appreciate the beautiful brute within him to truly see him. A woman who would devote herself to him in every way. A woman who would live to tease the big bad wolf even as she feared him. The kind of woman who would pull the wolf’s tail and run away, all the while glancing over her shoulder in hopes that he would corner her and overtake her.
Ah, the thrill of antagonizing a killer. It was an innate skill of any true Bratva woman. And a man like Pavel wouldn’t be happy with anything less. Unfortunately, there wasn’t exactly an endless supply of potential candidates. She huffed in frustration, drawing a questioning glance from her father. She responded with an oh-so-innocent shrug, and he exhaled impatiently as he closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. With a dark look of warning that made her wonder if he really could read her mind, he turned his attention to Pavel.
“How is Beast with children?” The speculative look in Glazov’s eyes made it clear that he wanted the truth and not a reply designed to please him. But the Pakhan knew his trusted guard would be honest, even if it was an answer the Pakhan wouldn’t like.
“He loves them, my Pakhan,” he said in his raspy baritone. “He’s extremely protective of children. I could almost feel sorry for anyone foolish enough to harm a child in his presence, but as you know I do not indulge in such emotions.”
Everyone in the room knew what he was saying was true; he was a man unfamiliar with feeling or giving compassion. He was also known for his calm, matter-of-fact candor. The man simply would not lie or soften an uncomfortable truth.
“Good…because the two of you will be guarding my grandchildren. It seems there’s a man stupid enough to believe he can kidnap my grandchildren and get away with it. Personally, I don’t think he’s capable of it but I also refuse to underestimate him.”
“I would like to see him try, sir, for the simple pleasure of chopping off his hands.” A slight bow from the large man gave homage to the Pakhan.
Roksana trusted her father’s judgment and knew without a doubt that Nikita and Natasha’s children would be safe with Pavel and Beast. She had once watched Beast tear a man limb from limb, so she knew nobody would get near her nephew and niece without drawing back a bloody nub where their hand used to be. The gruesome thought brought a slow smile to her face.