and found himself closing his eyes in relief. Ania’s scent was heavy outside. It was raining, but the roof overhead kept the furniture from getting soaked. A few feet from the door were two chairs and a small table. Ania was curled up in one of the deep cushioned chairs, staring out at the silvery rain, a blanket covering her. She turned her head and smiled up at him as he approached.
“Your meeting is over?”
She was so serene, when he’d been a bundle of nerves. He’d nearly lost his shit, turned into a raging leopard just because she wasn’t in his bed and he’d been afraid. Afraid. That wasn’t a word he associated with himself often.
“I thought someone had come up here and kidnapped you.” He didn’t mean to make it sound the way it came out. His voice was a growl of reprimand. An accusation.
“After what happened earlier, I can assure you, honey, that I wouldn’t allow myself to be kidnapped. That would make me so angry I’d have to kill someone.” She lifted the blanket and he saw the gun she held in her lap. Beside her chair was a rifle with a scope.
The relief that she had come out onto the balcony prepared was tremendous. On the other hand, he detested that she would have to consider taking weapons with her when she just wanted to sit outside on her balcony and watch the rain. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to be outside. It was cool and beautiful with the silvery drops falling. The rain on the roof sounded like music.
Even though Mitya understood, he still wanted to shake her. She’d scared him. He didn’t take well to that. Neither did his leopard. He forced himself to sit in the chair beside her. “The meeting didn’t give us anything new, kotyonok.” His voice was edged with disappointment. “I was hoping for something. Anything. I know Lazar is here. He had to have come in from Houston. I’m sure of it, but I don’t know who helped him.”
She closed her eyes. He could see the fan of her lashes against the single light from the bedroom. He didn’t like that she was backlit. There were no houses or rooftops for a sniper to lie in wait, but there were hills. He got up, went into the bedroom and turned off the light. When he returned, there were tears on her face. The sight nearly broke him. Mitya reached down, gathered her up—blanket and all—and sat back down in her chair, holding her close.
“The Caruso family runs the docks in Houston,” she whispered. “Alessandro came into the bakery just as Jewel was rising. He saw us leave.”
He brushed a kiss along her temple. Gentle, because she needed gentle, even though at the mention of Alessandro, both Mitya and Dymka wanted to rip something—or someone—apart. “Is that why you’re upset? You think that means Alessandro or his family betrayed your father and you?” He tried not to sound anything but calm.
She shook her head. “It’s the blood. I showered and scrubbed my foot. I even took two baths, but I can’t get his blood off me. I can feel it, Mitya. Hitting me. I fell asleep on the bed but it woke me up. When I kicked him, it splattered all over my foot and leg.”
Mitya tightened his arms around her. “You know it isn’t on your skin, baby. It feels like that when you take someone’s life. It isn’t meant to be easy.” It was easy for him. Too easy, but he knew that wasn’t right.
“That man, as bad as he was, was someone’s child. Someone’s sibling.” There was a sob in her voice.
He didn’t tell her that Albert had earned his place in Lazar’s upper echelon by helping his father kill his own mother. She didn’t need to hear that shit. “I don’t know what makes a man turn bad, but he did. He hurt a lot of women. You stopped that. He’ll never be able to hurt a child or woman again.” She needed to hear that at least. He pressed her face into his shoulder and then stroked her hair gently, rocking her.
“I know I had to do it to save us, but I didn’t know he would take a piece of me with him when he died.”
He took a breath to keep from reacting. “Albert was the worst of my father’s lieutenants. He was a very sick individual. He didn’t care what age they