Chapter 4

THANE

I hold the door open to my brother’s penthouse and let my father’s ward, Isabella, walk through the door. My fondness for Isabella is waning. She came to stay with my father when she was twelve, when we saved her from her mother’s latest boyfriend. She’d grabbed her mother’s cell phone and dialed my father’s number. He’d told her if she ever needed help to call, and she was smart enough to pay attention after her father died. That night, my father became her guardian. It was the least my father could do. Isabella’s father was my mother’s stepbrother and spent his life supporting our Pakhan and our bratva.

It’s late evening, and I’ve ignored her the entire drive from the hospital where she works to here. It’s insane that I’m a bodyguard for the obnoxious nymph. Why the fuck did my father move her from her apartment in Harlem in her last year of medical school to my brother’s penthouse?

She strikes a pose with her hand on her hip. “Tell Cynric you don’t want to babysit me.”

I grit my teeth. “Yeah. Sure, tell my father’s heir that I decline to do the job he’s given me.” Fuck. “That’s not how this works.”

“Well, I can say that, this.” She shifts her body and rotates her hand between us. “This doesn’t work.” She sets her backpack on the bench by the front door and moves into the kitchen. She calls out over her shoulder. “I’m sure there’s someone who wants to move up in the bratva that wouldn’t mind watching after me.”

I groan as I follow her into the kitchen, grabbing a seat on a bar stool. “Cynric seems to give a shit about your safety. I don’t know why Papa doesn’t just give you to someone.”

She snorts with a snarky look. “Suggest that to your brother.”

The door opens as Saxon calls out. “Hey, Izzy. Make me a sandwich.”

She chuckles. “Don’t let him hear you call me, Izzy.”

Saxon snorts. “Ha. He’s in New Jersey.”

An icy feeling of dread spikes up my spine as my eyes widen. “Why is he in New Jersey?”

Isabella raises her knife covered in mayo. “Aguilar or something.”

Fuck. I stand, knocking the bar stool backward, cursing in Russian as I stare at Saxon. “We need to go.”

Saxon shakes his head. “She can’t be alone.”

I throw my hand towards Isabella. “Why the fuck not?” I glare at her. “What the fuck do you have that’s so fucking important to my brother?”

Saxon lowers his voice. “His son in her belly.”

My eyes bug out and shame slams into me like a bucket of cold water. “Well, fuck.” I step back, stunned at the thought of my brother’s child. “Congrats.”

She’s finishing her sandwich as she dismisses us like the queen of the castle. “You should both go. Who’s going to get past the enforcer in the lobby and the one at the elevator?”

My brother and I stare at each other. We don’t need words to debate our options as I turn to my brother’s baby mama. “Don’t leave the penthouse.”

She nods. “I won’t.”

We run out the penthouse door as I grab the young enforcer. “No one goes in, and no one comes out. Stay alert, and if you fuck up, I’ll slit your throat.”

We don’t wait for him to respond as the elevator door opens.

Saxon sighs. “We need to call Papa.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket.

“What?” Irritation drips in his tone.

“Did Cynric tell you where he went?”

“Why?” I can sense his irritation rising.

“If he’s meeting Aguilar, it’s a trap.”

“What the fuck do you know, Thane?”

“There’s no way Jose is having him come to his warehouse in New Jersey alone if it’s not a setup.”

My father rants in Russian. “Cynric suspected, and I just thought he was being paranoid. Fuck.”

“You need to send men to the penthouse to guard Isabella.”

“No.” He growls. “I’m sending men to Cynric.”

“I don’t think any of us are going to get there in time to intervene.” We jump into the SUV, idling in the garage.

Saxon slams his hand against the steering wheel. “What the fuck? I thought you knew these people?”

“I know Jose’s cousins and his uncle. Jose, not as much. He’s more of a loose cannon. His uncle wouldn’t risk his relationship with the bratva, but Jose, he’s unpredictable. He sees himself as the up and coming ‘king of New York,’ and Cynric is a rival.”

It takes us thirty minutes to get to the warehouse. Saxon moves to the idling SUV. He turns as he pulls out his phone. “The driver is dead.”

“Fuck!”

Saxon’s talking to Papa as I move to the warehouse door. “I can’t hear anything.”

“I told Papa. He’s calling Izzy.”

If anything happens to my nephew, Cynric will never forgive us for leaving her.

Barging into the large open room, Cynric rises from the floor, rushing towards us. “Where the fuck is Isabella? Who’s with her?”

I shake my head. “She’s fine. We left her at the penthouse.”

Saxon’s head pivots around the room, noticing the dead and dying bodies on the floor. Jose lies in a pool of blood. “Where are the rest of Aguilar’s men?”

That feeling of dread has overtaken my soul. “Fuck. He’s sent a dozen to your place.” He definitely underestimated Cynric. Jose has a large group of men around him at all times. If they aren’t here, they’re at the condo.

I barely get the words out as my older brother slams his body into mine, pinning me against the wall. “Should anything happen to her or my child, I’ll kill you. Blood or not.”

Shame and guilt encompass my being. My mother’s words about responsibility echo in my brain as the taste of vomit creeps up my throat. I can’t disagree with my brother. He’s right. I failed. I failed to protect him from this potential catastrophe and failed to protect his child.

Saxon drives like a bat out of hell as Cynric screams on his phone. Anatoly, his right hand is sending men to the penthouse, but I know it’s too late.

Pulling into the garage, Saxon slams the SUV to a stop. Four of our men are dead by the elevator. Fuck. I text Anatoly to send a cleaning crew to dispose of the bodies and wipe the security tapes. We run up the stairs to the lobby, flying out the door, into a cascade of bullets. Our men greet us in Russian with details about who’s in the building. Eight men have made it onto the elevator and have broached the penthouse security. Aguilar sent a lot more than a dozen men.

Cynric growls. “I’ll kill every one of those cartel fuckers.”

We pile out of the elevator with guns in hand. The penthouse door is blown open. Debris spreads along the hallway with drywall dust and pieces of wall, glass, and metal blown over the carpet. How the cops and fire department aren’t here, I can’t figure out. My attention is brought to focus as we enter the apartment into a blaze of gunfire.

Cynric yells. “Isabella?”

Saxon answers. “Papa says she’s in the safe room. Let’s clear the area.”

I move through the expansive room, checking corners and closets until I return to the main room. A man extends his arm to shoot my brother, and I fire first, knocking him to the ground. With my gun in hand, I scan the area, as I put a bullet into his forehead.

Saxon barks. “That’s seven.”

“Are there more?”

I hear a gun fire as Cynric flies back from the impact, grabbing his side, and crumples forward. Saxon is there to kill the man, but my heart leaps into my chest. Cynric is on the ground with blood pooling around him. I glance around and realize we’ve killed the intruders.

Saxon waves at the camera. “Izzy come here. Cynric’s down.”

Moments later, Isabella runs into the room and kneels beside my brother, barking orders at Saxon and me. She’s asking for tampons or something, and Saxon hits my arm. “Get her bag.”

“What the fuck?”

She yells. “Thane. In the hall closet is a large black bag. Bring it to me.”

“What? Now you need your luggage.”

She stares at me with a red face. “Get my fucking med bag now. Shut the fuck up with the comments so I can save your brother.” I don’t move and she screams. “Now.”

Footsteps pound into the hall as my father marches in with more men, barking at one of them to grab the bag Isabella wants. Saxon bounds into the room with an armful of feminine products.

What the fuck does she need those for? I watch her as she pulls the maxi pads out of the wrappers and presses them to Cynric’s wound. Damn. I never would have thought of that.

She’s growling at Saxon to open more. “Thane, get me towels.”

This time I don’t argue and move to grab her towels from the laundry room, setting the basket down by her side as a man gives her the black bag she asked for.

My father assists Cynric’s woman as he pours water over her blood-soaked hands.

Air rushes out of my lungs. I’m no stranger to blood, but that’s Cynric. He’s always been larger than life for me. I wasn’t worried when he had his car accident and had severe burns and injuries. I knew he’d survive. His reputation as a beast was only enhanced by his new scars.

Isabella picks up metal forceps out of her bag, and I grimace. “We need a real doctor.”

Anatoly scoffs behind me. “She’s in her last year of med school, Thane. She’s done this before at a clinic in a bad area. She knows what she’s doing. Leave her the fuck alone.”

I turn to glare at the enforcer. He’s near my size but my anger makes me much more dangerous. I envision slicing his throat with my knife.

Papa praises Isabella and draws my attention.

She blurts. “I’m worried about blood loss.”

Papa answers in his usual calm tone. “So, give him blood.”

Saxon steps forward. “We’re all O positive. It’s a running joke in the family.”

I realize I should have volunteered. Cynric is my responsibility, but before I can offer, my father’s illegal doctor, his “dentist” enters the room asking Isabella what she needs. He asks her if he needs her to stitch the wound in his chest.

My heart is racing as concern forces me to answer. “You should do it. You’re a real doctor. She’s just pretending at it.”

Papa’s growl resonates throughout the room with murmurs of surprise by the men.

She yells in a voice I never expected to hear. “Get out!”

I jerk to my full height, ready to argue.

“Get the fuck out of here. Now.” Her bloody gloved hand points to the destroyed area where the door used to be. I look at my father as she screams, telling me I’m making it harder. My father nods at her, giving her his blessing as she barks at me in Russian. I forget that she was raised in the Bratva, as her father lived his life in it and died protecting me. Shame and guilt wash over me again like a splash of ice-cold water from a bucket. She stands with a knife in her hand, threatening me, and I see her in a whole new light. She’s what is best for Cynric.

Saxon growls from the floor with a catheter in his arm. “Mom’s spinning in her grave.”

I don’t hear the rest of what he says as I’m focused on my father’s angry face. I turn my head to Isabella. “Don’t let him die.”

Cynric lifts his head. He’s alive. He whispers, shooting daggers at my eyes. “We’re not done with this.”

I know we’re not. I broke the family code too many times to count tonight. My feet propel me out of the room and around the rubble, stumbling to the elevator. I’m a failure.

A bratva SUV sits in a parking space. I get in and take the keys from the center console. The night’s events run through my brain like a slide show. My focus rests on the thought that I could have lost my brother and his child because I’m stupid. How did I not realize Jose would do this? I grab my phone and dial.

“Ola?”

“Arturo.”

“Thane? It’s late, no?”

“It is. Jose is dead. He tried to kill Cynric and his woman.”

The moments of silence make me question if the call has dropped.

“I was unaware. I apologize for my nephew.”

“He’s dead, so he doesn’t matter. I want to know who knew in your organization that he planned to kill my family.”

“I assure you. I wasn’t aware, and I’m sure my other lieutenants didn’t know either.” He clears his throat. “Is your brother well? And his woman?”

“Yes. We all know Cynric is too mean to kill.”

“His reputation as a beast precedes him. I… What do you need from me?”

“Not sure, yet. You’ll need to convince my Pakhan you didn’t plan this.”

He blows out a breath. “I will contact your father in the morning, and I’ll send Marco to New York.”

Fuck. “Marco won’t be happy we executed his brother.” Well, Cynric killed him, but I don’t dwell on the specifics.

“He’ll understand. Jose was living on borrowed time. Marco knows this. He’s offered to kill him before. I should have let him.”

I grit my teeth, holding back the need to explode on the man. “Maybe you should have.”

“He’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Fine.” I end the call and toss my phone on the passenger seat. Pulling into Biggie T’s, my phone rings.

“Hello?”

My father growls at me in Russian. “What the fuck was that about?”

“I don’t think she’s qualified to handle a medical emergency. He could have died.”

“Did you become the Pakhan?”

“No, Papa.”

“No. You aren’t the fucking Pakhan of the Bravikov Bratva. You’re the second son. The first son’s right hand. Or at least that’s who you were raised to be. Instead, you’re a fucking arrogant whiner who thinks he’s the boss. You’re banished. Tell Boris he’s in charge of the club and find yourself somewhere else to be. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear about you. You’re dead to me. Isabella carries the next generation. Cynric chose her, and you disrespected him and me with how you acted. You’re untrustworthy.” He ends the call, and I stare at my phone.

I grip the steering wheel with full force and scream. “Fuck!”

I stomp into the club, turning my head from side-to-side, checking for Aguilar’s men. I flick my head at the bouncer, one of our Bratva enforcers.

“I heard there was a problem.”

“Don’t bother me.”

He nods slowly. “Yes, boss.”

Red’s in the last part of her second performance. The cape is gone, and she’s parading in a G-string. Seeing her dancing around nearly naked adds to my anger. Fucking women.

The server sets down a glass and a bottle of vodka. Boris strolls over to my table. “There were two cartel guys in here earlier. I had them dealt with.”

I flick my hand up. “Go away.”

He tucks his tail and walks back to the bar as Red finishes her set. I down three glasses of vodka and stand, strolling toward the stage. Red’s picking up the money that’s dropped on the floor. Grabbing her legs, I pull her to me, and I throw her over my shoulder. I walk us around the stage and stroll through the side door to the backstage area, sitting her on her feet. “Get your shit. You’re done here.”

Her amused face morphs into shock and then anger. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“The fuck I can’t. I run this place. You no longer work here.”

Her face falls. “I need this job to pay for school.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’ll just get a different stripping job.” She swings her hair up and ties it in a loose knot. Her eyes meet mine and she knows I’m not kidding.

“Let’s go.” I open her locker and toss the stuff into the box I grabbed from under the table.

“I’m going back to my grandmother’s place.”

Blood rushes to my brain as I grab her, tossing her over my shoulder again, using my other hand to grab the box. “Just shut up.” Another stripper holds out her cloak, and I take it. “Say goodbye, Red.”

“My name is Scarlet.” I exit with her waving at the other strippers who have a myriad of looks from shock to amusement.

Someone yells. “Bye Scarlet.”

She kicks around on my shoulder. “Put me the fuck down, Thane.”

My hand raises above her and slaps down on her ass. “Language, Red.”

She beats her hands on my back. “You can’t do this.”

“I’ve already done it. Just accept it. You’re mine.” My cock is hard enough to bust through my pants. Her little temper tantrum is just the distraction I need. I drop her into the passenger seat of the SUV I took from the garage and toss her cape on her lap. I open the door behind her and place the box on the seat. Shutting the door, I growl. “You’re coming with me. Your car will be here in the morning.”

Her head pivots around. “You usually have one of the guys take my car.”

“Yeah. Well, I don’t have guys anymore.” I close her door and walk around to mine, opening to her raised brow and pinched face.

“What happened?”

I blow out a huge breath, feeling the weight of my stupidity crushing my soul. “Don’t worry about it.”

She frowns. “So, you can fuck me, but I’m not worth telling your troubles to. I get it.” She crosses her arms across her crumpled cape. “Just take me home.”

“I am taking you home. Our home.”

“We don’t have a home, Thane. You have a home. I’m just an easy fuck. You’ve made it clear that I don’t really matter, so no, that is not my home.”

I grumble. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you about my night when we get to the penthouse.” Maybe.

She shakes her head. “Sure, you will. You’ll fuck me and then fall asleep, and I’ll sneak out and take an Uber to get my car at the club.”

“I’ll take you to get your car after breakfast in the morning.” My head is pounding.

“I have class, Thane. I have to be at the college by nine.”

“Okay. We’ll get up early and go to breakfast, then get your car and you can go to your class.”

Her body relaxes, and her arms loosen around her cape. “Fine. You’ll need to be quiet while I’m telling my grandmother I’m staying at a friend’s house.”

This little win cracks through my crankiness just a little. I’ll have to handle my family in the morning, but tonight it’s time to focus on doing dirty things to my Red Riding Hood.