Chapter 13 - Leon

"No, Ivan, I can't move that much money through Vesuvius, even if it is most convenient for you." I groan, lean back in my chair, and look at the ceiling.

Ivan sighs. "You must move the money tonight. I need it to buy out one of Carlo's clients."

"Five million dollars isn't exactly easy to move in one place in one night." I turn in my chair as the door opens and nod to Boris.

He closes the door behind him, leans against the bookshelf, and waits with folded arms for me to finish my conversation.

Ivan lets out another irritated huff. "You'll have to think of something to get it done. I don't have time to race all over Manhattan."

"I might be able to move it through Golden Spectre." I draw up the numbers for one of my casinos. "If you can send a man there to get it."

"Move the money, and I'll send one of my men."

Ivan ends the call without saying goodbye.

For a moment, I expect good news until I see the expression on Boris's face.

He should have come here and told me he"d found Natalie. Instead, he looks deadly serious, as if he wants to tell me that someone in my family has died.

I send a short message to the general manager of Golden Spectre and give him the code for releasing the money as soon as one of Ivan's men arrives.

"Alright." I toss the phone on the desk and wait for the anvil he's about to drop. "What's up?"

"Well, a woman came to my office about an hour ago, looking for answers."

"And that's my problem, eh?" I get up and go to the cigarette tray, pull one out, and light it. "My problem right now is that the Pakhan wants me to clear five million dollars in a single night."

Boris approaches the desk, his frown deep and slight wrinkles tugging at the corners of his eyes. "I believe you want to know about this woman."

I take a long drag. "Fine. Who is she?

"Natalya Reyes."

The cigarette falls from my lips and onto a piece of paper. I slap my hand on the small flame that ignites, barely feeling the burn from the shock. "What the fuck?"

Boris clears his throat. "At first, I didn't believe her, but then she started talking about Marina Popov."

The blood in my veins turns to ice before I start to chuckle. "So, she came looking for you even though I showed her mercy all those years ago?"

"She had my name." Boris' tone is brusque, and it seems he is withholding something else from me.

Whatever it is, it will not suppress the joy that flows through me. That"s the best news I've heard all day. I don't know what Natalya is doing here, but now she's in trouble, big trouble.

If Sergey gets wind of her, he"ll break down my door. I don't know if he would kill her or not. He holds back his anger too much and rarely says what he really thinks about Pavel's death.

"What answers was Natalya looking for?"

"She wanted to know why I"ve been sending Marina money." Boris looks toward the door. "I told her you were the one sending the money, and she wanted to talk to you."

"I hope you told her that a meeting with me would do no good."

He nods. "She wouldn't take no for an answer. She's a feisty and stubborn young woman."

"Shit. I thought you would tell me you've found Na-ta-lie." I deadpan.

"Yeah, about that. I may have found her too." He murmurs and gives me a dopey smile.

"Boris, stop fucking with me! So where is this Natalya girl?" The son of a bitch is trying to piss me off.

As he looks toward the door again, he drags his hand over his face and sighs.

"She's on the other side of the door, isn't she?"

"Yes."

I lean back in my chair, rest my forearms on the desk, and interlace my fingers. My gun is next to my hands so I can make an effective statement.

"Send her in."

Boris hesitates for a moment before reaching for the doorknob. He opens the door and swings it wide open. As the woman passes Boris, she gives him a gentle smile and enters the office. Her head turns toward me as if in slow motion, and she stops abruptly. Her eyes grow as wide as saucers.

Fuck me! I almost choke on my own saliva. This must be some cruel prank.

The woman that I've spent lusting after for weeks—jacking off to her image—is standing right here, in front of me. And she's the daughter of the family I slaughtered.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" I scoff, looking at Boris.

Natalie—or Natalya—stares at me for seconds before she stammers. "What the–You!–You're his boss?"

Her mouth snaps shut as her gaze ping-pongs between me and Boris. She steps backward, but Boris moves behind her, blocking her from escaping.

She looks at me in disbelief and stands there like a deer in the headlights. Her lower lip trembles, but the hands hanging at her sides clench into fists. She looks like she is on the verge of tears but blinks rapidly, and her jaw clenches.

I tilt my chin toward the door, and Boris gets the message. He steps out of my office and closes the door behind him.

Natalie spins, reaching for the doorknob.

"Don't bother. Boris is standing on the other side of the door, waiting to shove you right back in here if you try to run."

She turns back to me, her hands trembling, her eyes wandering around the room.

"There is no other way out." I get up and stalk toward her, prancing like a lion chasing its prey.

I let my gaze wander over her breathtaking body, those toned legs, her fucking tiny shorts, and the white T-shirt that clings to her breasts and slim waist. She reminds me again of that little girl all those years ago. What a mind fuck. I should have killed her. She"s the last remaining descendant of the monster, Antonio Reyes.

Keeping her alive all these years only to destroy her life now could have been a stroke of genius by my subconscious while I was too numb to think properly back then.

I circle her and push her deeper into the office.

Wisely, she doesn't stand with her back to me but turns around and takes large steps backward until my desk digs into her hips. All I can think about is how I want to wrap her shiny brunette hair around my fist and bend her over my desk.

As I stop before her, I inhale deeply and breathe in her scent. I try to decide how to break her first, but I struggle to think coherently. I"ve already conquered her body and given her the best orgasms of her life. And she willingly took everything I had given her.

For the last fifteen years, I have been thinking about the moment when I would see her again and what I would say to her if I did.

And now the time has finally come. "Well, that's a surprise, don't you think?"

Her brown eyes were glassy from the tears gathering along her waterline. "What do you want from me?"

"You are the one who wanted to see me." I cross my arms and tower over her, our bodies only inches apart as she leans against the desk. "You brought this on yourself."

"I didn't know that it would be you." Defiance burns in her eyes, pinning me with years of built-up resentment and pain, just like the little girl who asked me to send her away.

We stare at each other. She may hold back parts of herself—guarding her anger and hatred—but life etches its mark on all of us, and there is something deeper in her soul—a vulnerability and a pain that mirrors my own. My solnyshko, the pain will only get worse.

She grips the edge of the desk until her knuckles are white. "Why have you been sending Marina Popov money?"

Smirking, I lean closer to her, loving the hitch in her breath. I'm sure that her heart is racing, on the verge of exploding. "Repayment."

I bend down, hands landing on the desk on either side of her body. I pin her between my arms and hold her captive as I run my nose along her neck. Her pulse throbs under the gentle touch, and the scent of her floral perfume grows more pungent as her body heats up.

"I … I should go. This was a mistake. I did not want to see you ever again." She blushes.

"Oh, solnyshko, what makes you think I'm going to let you go now? See, I was the one who sent you away the first time. The second time, you ran away from me, and now you"re back by some crazy freak of nature. Fucking hell, this is too good to be true."

"What do you mean? Who are you? And what was the repayment for?" She barks back at me.

I pull back just enough to look at her face, and a low, cynical sound plays around the edges of my lips. "Because solnyshko, I killed your family."

A loud gasp escapes her. "Wh–What?"

Her eyes, once warm and bright, now narrow to icy slits, a silent fear etched on her face; she stares at me as if I were the Grim Reaper.

Good. She should not see me as anything other than what I am. The sooner she realizes I am the reason for everything terrible in her life, the better.

"You heard me." I drawl.

"No, no, no ... That's impossible." Her words are barely more than a whisper as she struggles to breathe.

"Impossible? No. I was twenty-three when I killed your family. Your father didn't know what was coming until it was too late to run away. You should have heard him calling for his sons and his wife. Your mother. Your brothers."

The woman I killed was not her mother, but that is not information I will share with her just yet.

I want it to hurt as much as possible. This is the opportunity I've been waiting for. To hurt her, to make her feel the pain I feel every time I wake up from my nightmare.

"You should have heard your mother scream," I say as I push myself off the desk and take a few steps back. "Like a wounded animal. She didn't believe I would kill your brothers. She begged for their lives."

Natalie's nostrils flare and her fingers clutch the edge of the desk so tightly that she could break it. Her lower lip quivers, and her jaw works overtime as she presses her lips into a thin line. Darkness and despair fill her gaze.

With a wicked grin, I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "Come to think of it, you look much like your eldest brother. Same big dark eyes and wavy chocolate brown hair. He was the hardest to kill. He put up more of a fight than your cowardly father."

"Stop it, please." She shakes her head and trembles as a tear rolls down her cheek.

Her feisty spirit is crumbling. But I am merciless; I will slowly dismantle her life piece by piece until she is broken. So, I continue.

"Your eldest brother managed to snatch the gun from me. The little bastard didn't know I had a knife." I collect her tear on the tip of my thumb and lick it off. She flinches away from me. "Have you ever stabbed anyone before, Natalie? There's a bit of resistance at first, but once the knife pierces the skin, it's like ramming a blade straight into butter."

As I speak, her body begins to sway. She blinks rapidly before it stops, the blank stare looking straight through me.

I grab her chin, tilt her head, and force her to look me in the eye. She doesn't get to disassociate from this.

"Your younger brother didn't fight so hard. But he tried to punch me. I must give the boy credit for that. He couldn't have been older than twelve, but he tried to land a good punch."

"No … no…" Her voice is faint, and the tears now flow like a river. Sobs shakes her body, but I don't let her take her eyes off me.

"I shot him first. As punishment for trying to punch me after everything your family had already done to mine."

She tries to grab my arm, holding her chin, but I quickly take my hand off her and take a step back. I don't want to feel her touch. Not now.

"And your father. He at least had the foresight to hide you when we invaded his house. He thought that would be enough to protect you, but my men found you."

The color disappears from her face; the swaying gets worse.

"I've thought long and hard about what I'm going to do with you, Natalie."

A loud thud fills the room as her body hits the floor. Too late, I realized she was trying to hold on to me.