Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

N ikolay

Forever was a mighty long time.

Was I really prepared to have a family that I needed to protect at all costs every hour of the day? The thought was daunting, but I wasn't certain it was possible to care how hard it would be any longer.

Not at this point.

The woman had gotten all the way under my skin.

I rubbed my eyes for the fifth time that day as I headed out of the room, first walking toward the playroom that attached to Damien's bedroom. I was amazed at how colorful the playroom was. And how full of books and toys. He wasn't inside. But I couldn't help but notice a lovely and very colorful painting on an easel.

Unable to help myself, I walked inside, studying the amazing piece of art that would never have occurred before Chantel came into our lives. My God. It was of a family including a dog. The sun was shining, flowers were blooming, trees swaying, and a perfect house behind.

The most incredible thing about the watercolor, other than the fact my son had painted it, was that the woman had dark auburn hair, not the intense blonde Ginger Lee had. A strange and very electric sensation tore through me.

He was already thinking of us as a family. I wasn't entirely certain if that was good or bad this soon.

And because of the difficult circumstances. But it was still considered progress in my mind.

The door was cracked to his bedroom and I barely pushed it open, peeking in.

A nap. He'd had his favorite peanut butter sandwich, had played on the beach with Chantel, and likely had done the painting afterward. For my little man, it had been a very full day. With the sea air, which had the same kind of intoxicating effect on dear ole Dad, no wonder he was napping.

It was another moment where everything felt almost normal, which was just about as troubling as it should be.

The house seemed far too quiet, although I could still hear the ocean waves, the wind slightly more intense than when we'd arrived. For me, a man who planned out everything and was usually so well organized, this was a surreal period in my life.

As I headed into the kitchen, I thought about Vissarian. It was time to talk to the man even if it meant lying to him for now. At least I could tell him his daughter was safe. While grilling him.

I made a drink, remaining in the kitchen. I could see her sitting outside. She was wrapped in a warm throw she'd found, her feet curled under her as she sat staring at the ocean with a glass of wine in her hand. There was nowhere either inside or out where Damien couldn't be heard.

With the connection strong, I made the call.

"I was wondering if I'd hear from you," he said by way of greeting.

"I was busy cleaning up a mess."

He laughed. "Isn't that your job as Brigadier?"

"It's more personal this time, an attack on my home in Brighton Beach, the death of two of my men."

"Whoa. What the fuck is going on?"

"The empire is being attacked as I mentioned. The threats are escalating, which meant I moved us to what I consider my safehouse."

"Where?"

Even my brother hadn't been told where this coastal house was located. The fewer who knew, the better. "A safe location."

"And you aren't going to tell me. Is my daughter with you?"

"She's here. Thankfully, she accepted the nanny position and she's amazing with Damien."

"I tried to call her."

"When?"

"Just a little while ago."

On the way back, I'd made some decisions I knew Chantel might not like. That had included disabling her phone entirely, although I'd need to smash the components. I'd also purchased several burner phones. I couldn't put it past the asshole to have a way of finding cell phone numbers and being able to use those to keep track of his… Hell, I almost said victims. Fuck that.

Sighing, I leaned against the counter. He was irritated that I didn't trust him. Tough. "Her phone has been disconnected. She'll have a new burner phone soon. You of all people know how cell phones can be tracked and traced. I can't have that happen. I assure you that she's perfectly fine and in good spirits."

"I don't like this."

"Neither do I. Why don't you go into more detail about what your business was about while in New York." It wasn't a request and my tone indicated as much. I took a swig of my drink as silence hit the other end of the line.

"Are you fucking accusing me of something? Brother?"

"I don't know. Should I be?"

His laugh was bitter and full of as much rage as I felt. In the ways of Russian men, who meant either the burning need for retaliation or that there was guilt involved with his recent activities. I guessed the latter in this case. "How dare you. I come to New York and spend time with you and you act as if I'm your enemy."

"Not directly, Vissarian. However, the fact you're being cagey about your activities when we've shared quite a bit about our work, our personal lives, and our family tells me you have something to hide."

"You're a fucking asshole. What you see is what you get. You know that."

Little did he know I was questioning everyone and their loyalty at this point. "Yeah, I do. However, I'm trying to determine who is attempting to take out this regime. That places your daughter in danger, my brother. Now, I fully intend on doing everything in my power to ensure she remains healthy and happy, but it won't be easy if I don't have all the information to help me do so."

I allowed the information to hang. I could hear his heavy breathing and did nothing more than suck back a good portion of my whiskey.

"Jesus Christ. I had a meeting with a Cosa Nostra outfit and the Armenians at their request. They want to establish lines between the two cities."

"What business?" There I went again, gritting and grinding my teeth. My dentist would be none too happy with me.

"Fuck. Weapons. Okay?"

My brother was suddenly getting into illegal weapons? Was he fucking kidding me? "You are joking."

"No."

"Why in the fuck are you stupid enough to do that?"

He remained silent.

"Fucking talk. Now."

"Fine," Vissarian hissed. "My legitimate businesses haven't been doing well for over a year. I've tried everything but one mistake with a contract and I lost money. Big money. I felt I had no choice, especially when a possible alliance of sorts was offered. But we're talking limited business. No more."

"By whom?"

"The Don of the Cosa Nostra."

"Which one?" I was now growling.

"Rossi. Giordano Rossi. No, they aren't the biggest, but they hold New Jersey and are making a claim in New York."

Rossi. One thing this conversation did was confirm Luciano hadn't been stupid. I wondered if he knew of this meeting. It wasn't unheard of at all. In fact, it happened all the time.

"That wasn't the best move you've made, brother. We have an alliance with the Bernardi Cosa Nostra, the family settling here three generations ago."

He wasn't shocked nor was he bothered it would seem. "Business is business. I never said I would have anything to do with infiltrating whatever alliance you've established. Nor did I have that information provided to me. I'm simply trying to improve both my bank accounts and my reputation. Just like your Pakhan would do."

"Not this way. You should have told me from the start."

"What difference does it make? We're not invading on your turf. I would never allow that to happen. I like LA. You know that. It's my hometown now and my wife would never move." He laughed. "I might be a big lug but you'll learn you don't ever cross your wife's desires. If you ever succumb to marriage."

He always did make me laugh.

Arguing wasn't going to get me anywhere. The man was as stubborn as I was. "I hope you're telling me everything. My family being under attack isn't acceptable. Do you understand?"

"I'm your family too."

"I suggest you keep that in mind. Brother."

"Such a fucking asshole."

Now we were bickering like we used to. For some reason, that eased some tension.

"That's how I stay alive. I need an answer to one last question."

Vissarian laughed as if any of this was funny. "Go ahead. You've already made your point about my importance in your life."

The reason we'd never completely clicked was his arrogance. Or maybe mine. "Sonya Oliov. Did you suggest she keep an eye on your daughter, including warning her? Or did she do that on her own?"

There was a slight hesitation and I was more pissed than before. "I asked her to watch out over my daughter. That was the extent of our interaction. Nothing more."

"And did you happen to check her alliances?"

"What are you insinuating?"

"Nothing. However, the warning had interesting timing."

"No, I did not. I thought the outstanding reputation provided by her mother was enough."

There was no getting through to the man. Nor did he seem to care but I knew better. He'd been pushed.

Or threatened himself.

"Fine. I needed to ask. If there's anything you can tell me about your conversations with either syndicate that could be of any help, now is the time to do it."

"We had a two-hour meeting. Period. Our discussion was based on their business proposals, which I haven't accepted yet. And no. You are not privy to those. I have my world and you have yours. You made it perfectly clear the two were to remain separate. No matter what we used to tell the other, we know too much. We've experienced too much. Sharing but so much information could be dangerous."

His choice of words was interesting.

"Have it your way."

"Just take care of my daughter, Nik. She is special and you're a bully."

I had to laugh. It was what he'd called me as a kid. "Bullies can usually protect people better than those who continue to keep their eyes closed. I have no intention of allowing anything to happen to Chantel. Yes, she is very special. Very special indeed." With that, I hung up the phone. The situation was frustrating as fuck. But the conversation had allowed me to realize my brother had gotten himself into the middle of something he couldn't get himself out of. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Sonya was still someone who hadn't been cornered. With me returning to New York for a few hours, it was time to handle that situation.

Past time.

I made contact to Tanner, who'd remained behind at my command.

"Hey, boss. Are you safe?" he asked, answering on the second ring.

"Safe. I need a favor."

"You got it."

"I've mentioned Sonya Oliov, Chantel's cousin. Do you remember?"

"Yeah, the chick with wild hair."

I chuckled. "The very one. I'm coming into town tomorrow for an important meeting held at one. I need you to pick her up by then. Take her to a safe place around two-thirty. Just text me where. I need to talk with her."

"What if she doesn't want to come?" Tanner asked.

"Then help her understand it's not a request."

It was his turn to laugh. "I have no issue doing so."

"Somehow, I didn't think you would. Let me know if you have any issues."

"Will do, boss."

Now I was finished with the damn phone calls for the night. I'd done all I could at this point, including riling my brother. However, if he had something more nefarious going on, someone would rear their ugly head. That could prove helpful.

Or more dangerous than ever.