screw her life up completely, and part of me wants to save her. I’m like some lovelorn Jekyll and Hyde.
All I know is that I need to be close to her. And all my beautiful little ballerina will know is that her shitty husband has hired someone to protect her. Not because he loves her, but because she’s his cash cow.
I love this sun on my face, I think idly, my thoughts coming back to the present and the heat of the day.
Wind disturbs my hair, and I snap my eyes open and lower my head in time to see a rugby ball whizzing by me. I raise my arms in a belated attempt to catch it but miss.
“Fucking catch the ball,” Andrius shouts at me. “That’s the point of the game.”
It’s not my fault I suck, as I don’t know the rules. I’m only half assed anyway because it’s a stupid game, much less with everything else on my mind.
Jesus, Andrius and K are competitive. For two men who were so high up in the Bratva, their names literally have people crossing themselves in fear, they seem awfully childish about who wins this game.
Andrius drew the short straw when he got me on his team. K has one of the Spetsnaz guys, and he seems super competitive too. So Andrius has me, and I’m shit at this. He’s staring at me; his cold gray eyes storm clouds in his tan face. Next to him, grinning because he’s playing against us is Konstantin.
Andrius grabs the ball, shoots me a disgusted look, and walks back toward a still laughing Konstantin.
K has changed. The man who was Moscow’s most feared Bratva Pakhan has already changed once when he became a bona fide businessman in Britain. If you look up the word oligarch in a picture dictionary, you'll find an illustration of K. Now he’s gone back into his cocoon and come out all shiny new once more.
The man used to be serious. Focused. Hungry. Always wanting more. Now? He’s almost laid back. He laughs a lot too. He never used to. The reason he laughs a lot these days is sitting behind us on a lounge chair in the shade, a light blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and sipping at a frothy coffee she’s made.
The first thing K’s girlfriend, Cassie, did when she moved into the spare property on Andrius’ land was install an expensive coffee machine.
K and Cassie’s temporary home is where Andrius houses armed guards. Those guards are now living in a rental villa a few doors away. It’s a huge, cavernous place where they’re staying while everything is finalized for us to complete the purchase on the property and land next door to this. The place where we will build our security empire.
Two of the soldiers patrol the grounds, as they do on rotation every day.
So far, there are ten men in total waiting to be trained. They were all recruited by K and Andrius from their time in the Spetsnaz. Two of them I know. They were the pilots for the private jet K had as part of an airliner he owned. An airliner he’s now sold. He’s sold most things. More than I think he intended to at first. It means he’s rich. It also means he’s free.
I’m rich too. Not his level of course. But I’ve been paid very well for years by K, and I invested it wisely. I invested in the markets and did all my own research. No financial advisors or investment funds for me. I buy and sell all my shares myself and focus on emerging markets. I’ve made a killing. An absolute fucking killing of the highest order. If I had been born in a different country, I’d have been a Wall Street asshole for sure.
The women’s chatter drifts to me on the breeze, a nice sound amongst the testosterone fest that is this stupid game.
Sitting with Cassie is Justina. She’s Andrius’ assistant or something. I’m not sure exactly what her deal is, except she’s part of his family now. She’s also very efficient and doesn’t suffer fools gladly. She and Andrius’ woman, Violet seem close, but there’s something there, a tiny thing you might only notice if you observe people closely. I’ve noticed it. There’s an issue, but I don’t know what it is. I don’t think Violet is jealous of Justina. There’s nothing remotely sexual between her and Andrius, but on some level she’s not entirely comfortable around her.