for Vasily’s hesitation would be dealt with accordingly.
And that’s all it had taken. The threat of death. His kitten’s death. And Vasily had fallen in line. He’d gone home, to his and Kathryn’s apartment, and had made love to her for hours while Eva dozed in her crib in the corner. Once his beautiful sated blonde had fallen asleep, he’d kissed her one final time before going over to say good-bye to his daughter. Staring into eyes identical to his, he’d picked up his child, and cradling her to his breaking heart, he’d begged her forgiveness for his desertion of them.
Just before dawn, he’d brought Eva to the bed and placed her in her mother’s arms, waiting until Kathryn tucked her child to her breast, protective even in sleep. He’d watched them with a yearning he didn’t think was possible, until he’d had to break the connection by closing the door to their small apartment for the last time.
Vasily’s forced nuptials never did take place. The politician, along with his wife and three children, had been killed in a plane crash that everyone knew had been staged by the opposition, but no one could prove it. As was the norm in their world.
But by then, fearing for Kathryn and Eva’s lives had become the norm, and Vasily hadn’t seen a way around it. If he went back to them, either Ivan would descend, or one of their many enemies would. So, Vasily had vowed to stay away. Not because he had to, necessarily, but because, again, he would never risk them. And over the years, every time Vasily watched this life steal a loved one, Vincente with his mother, Stefano with Adrianna, Gabriel and Stefano with their parents, and so many other hits Vasily had no personal investment in, his desertion was briefly justified.
It was with a sick heart that he came out of his thoughts and into this reality he loathed. One where he had to acknowledge that everything he’d done had been for nothing.
His kitten was dead. And his daughter was being threatened.
The sharp crack of Viktor’s laugh echoing off the buildings preceded the asshole ending his call. As a bead of cold sweat ran down Vasily’s back, Viktor carried on down the sidewalk, retrieving his keys as he approached the loaded Audi that sat in front of an empty bakery—empty, they knew, because Vasily’s men had done a final sweep not fifteen minutes ago before leaving the area.
Without a backward glance, Vasily slipped out of the doorway with Dmitri glued to his ass, and headed down the street in the opposite direction. They hung a tight right and disappeared between two buildings.
They’d just reached the end of the long laneway when a massive explosion lit up the darkness and rocked the dirty concrete under their boots. The parking garage next to them shuddered from the force of the blast.
“Holy shit,” Dmitri chuckled. “Overkill on the C-4?”
A small smile lifted Vasily’s lips. His humor died when the scream of sirens split the air. Fuck. There must have been units nearby. His eyes met Dmitri’s for a split second, and then they were hauling ass to the beat-up Lada they’d “borrowed.” Dmitri slid behind the wheel and started the engine as Vasily took the passenger side. They were moving before the doors were even closed, keeping to the escape route they’d planned.
As they fled, leaving the authorities to deal with yet another unsolved murder, Vasily’s only thoughts were that his daughter was now safe from his rivals, at least for the time being. Her mother was avenged, though it made little difference. And he was free to head home to help Gabriel deal with Stefano.
Christ, he hoped Lucian was right and they had an option open to them that didn’t include killing the stupid bastard. Because deserved or not, that death would leave a scar on a relationship Vasily valued far too much to sully over an already exhausted vendetta.
† † †
Eva clicked on the e-mail Natalie had just sent and printed off the list of people she had to get in touch with in order to set up her office in Manhattan. Gabriel had given her carte blanche earlier, telling her to purchase whatever furniture and office equipment she thought she might need.
Whatever will make you most comfortable, get it, he’d said.
What would make her most comfortable was getting out of this damn office that felt much smaller than it had that morning. Maybe she could look into