his instincts and do what he wanted in every area of his life, not just business. To take what he wanted when he wanted it because chances were it wouldn’t be there when he needed it most. How embarrassingly cliché.
He scanned the room. Why were these people afforded the privilege of living? How fucking dare they continue to interact with one another, smiling, laughing? Breathing. He should gut them. Openly murder the unsuspecting innocents. Watch the light die in their eyes as the blood spilled from their bodies…
Blood that would never be as precious as that which now stained the floor of a parking garage on Front Street. The stain had formed less than forty-eight hours ago, from a bullet wound delivered by a Russian man born with no sense of self-preservation. That was the only explanation that made sense. Why else would Sergei Pivchenko have used Markus as a pawn in a failed attempt to start a war within the organized crime world Lucian currently ruled?
Where is he?
I wish I knew, he answered internally, speaking with the demons that now writhed and twisted in their efforts to escape the hold he had on them. They were growing stronger every day Lucian had to wait to deliver his vengeance. If he gave them free reign, it would be catastrophic.
He felt Sorin settle just behind him.
“Are you sure you do not want to change your mind about this?” His private guard’s question was spoken in Romanian.
As Sorin would no doubt expect, Lucian didn’t respond to the inquiry. “Did you get everything?”
“Yes. The items on your list were acquired and are already onboard. I have to say; the gesture was a thoughtful one but it will not make up for what you are doing to her.”
“I am not interested in making anything up to anyone.” Lucian’s phone vibrated with a text.
We’re approaching the tarmac. Should I settle her onboard?
The tension in his shoulders eased as he replied.
Yes. Is she comfortable?
Sleeping peacefully.
He looked across the room and nodded at his pilot who was waiting by the door.
I will be there shortly.
He sent the text and put the phone in his pocket as Vincente Romani approached with the one who’d put some life into his dark eyes. Not a soul knew, but the underboss of the Moretti crime family was one of Lucian’s favorite people. Because he was an extension of his boss? Lucian looked across to see Gabriel Moretti talking with a member of the Tarasov organization. Sergei Pivchenko was theirs. Or he had been until recently. His uncle was the Pakhan of the organization. A powerful man Lucian had always held in high esteem.
How would Vasily Tarasov feel if one of Lucian’s men strode over and shot Maksim Kirov in the head? How would the Russian leader feel if the gunman then turned the gun on Gabriel, his son-in-law? Then Dmitri, his private guard. Then Alekzander, his beloved nephew. How about Vasily’s daughter? How would he feel if her life was taken, along with the new life she carried?
Lucian’s attention went back to Gabriel. He openly studied the way the Moretti boss was sheltering his wife and unborn child. With no apparent disrespect, the beautiful girl’s placement was behind her husband’s right shoulder. Lucian had seen this a few times now. With their watchful veteran and the dangerous Asian doing their jobs around them, if anyone were to attempt to take the Moretti queen down, they’d have to go through three big bodies first.
Losing interest, he came back and focused on Vincente and his redhead. He put his hand out to her and ignored the sympathy swimming in her bright eyes as she took it.
“I hope you are recovering well from your ordeal,” he said, speaking of an incident that had nearly taken her life a couple of months ago. “I was sorry to hear Vincente was robbed of the kill. Too bad.” As Sorin stepped forward to lead a group of chattering guests further away, Lucian released Nika and looked to the now scowling Italian. “I would imagine that gives you nightmares.”
“You imagine right, but she didn’t need to know that.”
“If she knows you at all, she was already well aware. It would be between you regardless if it is pillow talk or not. I do not think you will appreciate the advice, but I would recommend you tell her how badly it burns that you were not the one to personally dispatch her nightmare to hell. Tell her how you