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21. RADOMIR

Chapter 21

RADOMIR

My mother’s phone call and my sudden impending wedding day are whirling through my mind as I head out the lobby of the Diamond Hotel and Casino. While the conversation with my mother was revealing she very neatly side stepped answering any relevant questions.

But I do have one more lead on my list that may be able to offer me some answers—Sabrina Craft. My fiancée’s best friend. My head fills with steam warring with the knot in my gut at the word fiancée.

Mark had mentioned Sabrina before he passed out, and I need to know why. If she knows anything about the golden key or the journals, I’ll find out. And if she can explain why Leigh lied about knowing Nikolas and Alexandra Vasilikis, even better—clearly Leigh must know who they are—everyone else in her circle does.

Jesus! I can’t believe I’ve been duped by two Daltons. My thoughts are interrupted when I see the valet pull up in front of the hotel in my SUV. As I’m about to step up to the front doors I nearly collide with a striking, elegantly dressed older woman who drops her purse.

“Pardon me,” I say, bending to retrieve her dropped clutch.

Our eyes meet, and I’m struck by the sharp, assessing green of her gaze. Something about her feels…familiar. Before I can dwell on it, the valet calls for me, I give the woman a polite nod and step around her. Climbing into the SUV, I head for my destination, trying hard to rein in the storm of emotions and thoughts churning through me.

Sitting in the shadows of the Golden Lights Five Star Hotel and Casino, I nurse a vodka, my vantage point giving me a perfect view of the stage. The place hums with chatter, clinking glasses, and bursts of laughter. Its grand hall oozes ostentation—gold trim, chandeliers, and enough pretension to fucking choke a man. I loathe this place.

The blonde dancer twirls across the stage, her movements precise and graceful, her expression all fire and allure. She’s magnetic, commanding attention like she owns the space and my target—Sabrina Craft—Leigh’s best friend.

I enjoy a long sip of vodka, letting its icy burn smooth the edge of my temper. My conversation with my mother is still a raw wound, and the lingering irritation clings to me like a second skin. Her demand that I marry Leigh was a calculated power play, one that succeeded in knocking me off balance. The thought of Leigh—naked and tangled in my sheets just hours ago—sends a spike of heat and frustration through me.

My gaze shifts to Sabrina as she finishes a flawless turn. She’s the picture of control, her confidence palpable even from here. I’ve already confirmed she’s done for the night after this set, and I’m content to wait her out. For now, I’m enjoying the solitude and the vodka, trying to ignore the voice in my head that tells me I’ve already stepped too far into a trap I have a feeling was set for me a long time ago.

Marriage... The word leaves a bitter taste. But the idea of Leigh carrying my child? That’s no deterrent—it’s a temptation. A legacy.

“Thinking too hard, Radomir?”

The familiar voice cuts through my thoughts, laced with amusement and just enough edge to set my guard up. Judy slides into the seat beside me, snatching the vodka glass from my hand and draining it as if it were her right.

“How did you find me?” I watch as she refills the glass.

“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” she says, leaning back with a smirk. “You ditched Viktor and disappeared after your little chat with your mother. “Logical next step? Hunting down Leigh’s best friend after failing to get answers from her mother—or yours.” Her brows raise and she looks at me knowingly. “You should know not to try and best your mother.”

“So you know?” I grab my glass, fill it, and down another shot.

“Yes.” She nods. “Your mother called me before she called you.”

I scowl, the irritation twisting tighter. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Your mother can be really scary. I was also only supposed to hunt you down to make sure you carry out your mother’s order in the morning,” she says, feigning exasperation.

“I’m as fucked off at having to come and find you as you are of me finding you. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one organizing your mother’s charity ball. Do you have any idea how complicated this year’s theme is?” Judy shakes her head and helps herself to my vodka again. “Jesus. You wouldn’t think it would be, but the costume shop thinks I’m planning a fucking kids party when I ask them if they have the outfits needed for it.”

“Fuck,” I mutter. “I forgot I’m hosting that thing.” I frown. “What’s the theme?”

“Oh, I’m going to leave that as a surprise for when your costumes arrive tomorrow.” Judy’s grin widens as she pours another drink. “Good thing you’ll have a lovely wife on your arm. It’ll really sell the theme.”

“What do you want, Judy?”

“Oh, it’s not me that wants you.” Her voice is sing-song, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was ordered to find you and send you back to the Diamond immediately.”

“Who?”

“Your cousin.”

“You can tell him to fuck off. I’m busy. I don’t jump when he cracks the whip.”

“No, but you do when I’m the cousin doing it.”

The deep voice cuts through the air like a blade. My muscles tense as I turn to see Oleksi, his towering frame cutting an imposing figure in the dim light. Nearer six-foot-five than my six-four, his shoulders are broad, his body built like a weapon. His ice-blue eyes, colder than a Siberian winter, sweep over Judy before landing on me.

“Didn’t trust me?” Judy’s tone is sharp as she addresses Oleksi, her demeanor shifting to match his.

“I don’t trust either of you when Radomir gets some fucked-up idea in his head,” Oleksi replies bluntly, his gaze unwavering. “You know how easily influenced you are, Judy!”

Without another word, he strides to the bar. I glare at her, leaning forward to say under my breath, “You could’ve led with which cousin.”

“And miss the look on your face?” she says, finishing another shot. Then, batting her eyes at me. “Now you know how I feel every time that fucker comes to town, and you fail to let me know.”

“Touché. Usually, I do enjoy torturing you by not revealing his plans, but I honestly didn’t know he was coming this time.” My one brow arches as I look at her. “Maybe it’s high time, though, that the two of you work out all this sexual tension and finally get over your breakup from ten years ago.” Now it’s my turn to smirk

“Fuck you,” she hisses, slamming the glass down. “Oh, by the way, I’ve organized your wedding for tomorrow at noon. Tracy’s getting a dress for Leigh and a tux for you. Then we’ll have a lovely late lunch at the penthouse after, complete with photos for your mother. Saturday, you and your new bride will grace the ball in your appropriate costumes. Trust me, they’re fitting.” She checks her watch, muttering, “Shit. I’m late—again. The babysitter is going to have another fucking fit.” Her eyes narrow. “If she quits, I’m leaving Maksim with you to look after each day.”

“Why doesn’t your reliable husband look after him for a change?” Oleksi’s voice cuts in as he returns, setting an even more expensive bottle of vodka on the table. A waiter follows with ice and glasses. “I’m sure he’d love to teach his son how to rough people up and take what’s not his. Isn’t that Viktor’s specialty?”

“I can’t stay,” Judy says, ignoring Oleksi’s jab at her husband as her eyes harden when she turns to him. “I have a son to get home to. I found your cousin. If you’re staying for the ball, let Radomir know, and I’ll get you an outfit, too.” She gives him a tight smile. “I have a fitting costume in mind for you.”

She strides out without another glance.

“Nice to see the two of you getting along,” I say dryly, watching her go. “You don’t need ice cubes when the two of you are in the same room.”

“Fuck you,” Oleksi snarls, pouring himself a drink. He downs it in one go before fixing me with a glare. “I see you’ve created another great shit show.” He leans back in the chair. “Your mother’s furious, my brother’s disgusted with you for taking an innocent prisoner, and now I’m stuck making sure this marriage and the ball go off without a hitch. A ball I didn’t even plan to attend because I have actual shit to handle, but here I am babysitting because you and my brother just don’t know when to leave things the fuck alone.”

“Right, like you’re innocent in all this.” I take a sip of vodka. “If I remember correctly, you’re the ringleader wanting to get to the bottom of our father’s deaths. And this isn’t a shit show of my making you can thank Dalton for it.”

“Yes, but Rad, you’re the one that couldn’t keep your fucking dick in his pants.” His jaw clenches. “And, cousin, this fuck-up can cost us everything.” He pours himself another drink and this time savors a sip of the clear liquid. “The only bright side is that when we’ve finally taken down who’s behind this strike you’ll have managed to make our family’s veritable power houses.”

His words tell me that he has been fully briefed by my mother and knows all about Leigh.

“Yay for me!” I salute with my glass, my gaze sliding back to the stage. Sabrina’s final dance is winding down. I need to get rid of him. “When did you get into town?”

“An hour ago.” Oleksi shrugs, his eyes on the stage having followed my gaze and narrowing on the petite blonde. “Who’s the girl?”

“Who?”

He nods his head toward the stage not taking his eyes off Sabrina. “The one you’ve been watching like a cat stalking it’s prey.” He glances at me suspiciously. “Sowing your wild oats, cousin?”

“No!” I shake my head turning back to Sabrina. “More like trying to solve a ten year old mystery that’s about to burst wide open again.”

“You’re shitting me, right?” Oleksi raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued as he gets the meaning behind my words. “How’s she going to help us?”

“She’s got the answers we need,” I reply simply.

“Oh?”

“You may know her mother. She headlines at the Ember Club, and her older sister is fucking Gavriil.”

“I get it now.” He nods, turning back to me. “You’re trying to outsmart your mother.” Oleksi sighs and turns back to Sabrina. “You’re thinking because her mother and Dalton are lovers she’ll know what her mother knows?”

“I think she’ll know more,” I reply. “She’s also Leigh’s best friend since they were kids and lived next door to each other.”

Oleksi’s gaze lingers on the stage, watching Sabrina move before his phone buzzes. He answers it, his gaze shifting between me and the stage as he listens. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hangs up. He finishes his vodka, scrapes his chair back, and stands.

“You have tonight to chase whatever answers you think you’re going to find,” Oleksi says. “I’ll be in the penthouse. Don’t try to find a way to thwart your mother about the wedding tomorrow.” Glancing at the stage, he growls. “And for fuck sake, don’t screw the dancer. I don’t want to get in the middle of another catfight because of you.”

I snort. “I was fifteen, and I didn’t know they were twins.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Oleksi shakes his head and leaves, his steps as deliberate as his words.

Sabrina’s last dance for the evening ends. I take my time finishing my drink before wandering to her dressing room. I’ve already spoken to the manager, who’s given me backstage access. I knock on the door, and her soft voice calls.

“Hold on.” There’s rustling inside. “Be there in a minute.”

Sabrina has her phone in her hands and hasn’t changed out of her dance outfit yet as she swings the door open. She looks up sharply, her body tensing for a fraction of a second before her expression smooths into a practiced calm. She hides her fear well, but I catch the flicker in her eyes.

“Yes?” Her voice is calm, and her eyes are hooded as she guards her doorway.

“May I come in?”

“Why?”

“So we don’t have to have an awkward conversation with me standing in the hallway and all the other dancers staring on?” I glance left and right pointedly.

Sabrina steps back. When I enter her dressing room, the faint scent of perfume fills my nostrils. There are glittering costumes and makeup palettes scattered on the counter. “Do you know who I am?” I ask, glancing around. The room is as overly lavish as the rest of the hotel.

“Who doesn’t?” Her voice is steady, her gaze unwavering. “You’re the monster that locks people up in his dungeon to eat them. You know that story our parents tell us as kids to keep us in line.”

She has a sassy mouth. “Do you know why I’m here?”

Her lips curl into a bitter smile. The tension in the room thickens. “To strong-arm me into giving you information about my best friend? The one you kidnapped?”

Her disdain doesn’t surprise me, but the venom in her voice when she says ‘kidnapped’ grates on my nerves.

“Actually, I want to know about Leigh’s mother,” I say, my tone deliberately neutral, watching for the slightest crack in her armor.

Sabrina blinks, caught off guard. “Why?”

“Curiosity,” I reply, though the lie is as thin as the tension stretching between us.

Her eyes narrow as she realizes my intent. “Again, why?”

She watches me as I move about the room looking at things. “I believe she was a song writer and has some songbooks filled with what could potentially be big hits.” My gaze meets hers and I see surprise in her eyes. I stop in front of her and lean in slightly. “Ah, so I see you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Her expression becomes neutral. “I didn’t know your organization was in the music business. I thought it was more into loading the house in your casinos, money laundering, drugs, guns, hits…” Sarcasm mingle with disdain in her tone. “You know, all mob related stuff.”

“I’m thinking about branching into it, especially now that I have such a talented songwriter under my roof.” I tilt my head. “A source told me you’d know where I could find Leigh’s mothers songbooks.”

“Who would that be?” She folds her arms, standing her ground. She’s ballsy for someone so petite.

“You know I can’t reveal my sources!” We stand eyeing each other out.

She nods and purses her lips. “You mean my mother and Mark.” She snorts. “You need better sources.”

I sigh, getting tired of this game. My eyes harden and my voice lowers dangerously. “There are a few ways we can do this. I’d rather not have to tell my bride to be that her bridesmaid and best friend couldn’t make our wedding tomorrow because I have her in the dungeon extracting information for her.”

Sabrina’s face drops. She inhales sharply, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Wh… what?” She shakes her head. “No. Leigh would never have agreed to marry you!”

My brows shoot up at the way she spits out the word you. “That’s hurtful.” I grab my heart mockingly. Before adding in a more serious and dangerous tone, “Leigh has no choice in the matter, and she will realize that.”

Her brow furrows as her shrewd eyes bore into mine. “She doesn’t know about it.”

“She will when she needs to.” My voice has a warning in it.

“Like when she’s blindsided at the altar?” Sabrina accuses.

“I wouldn’t say blindsided.” My lips lift in amusement. “And if you cooperate with me, I let you join in our happy day.”

“Oh goody. A chance to wear my black outfit I save for just these types of occasions,” she says snidely.

“You can wear whatever fucking color you like.” My brow rises. “Oh, and Sabrina, I know you and Leigh have been communicating. If word of our up coming wedding gets out to Leigh before I tell her, I’ll be back, only this time it won’t be such a friendly visit.”

“Is that a threat?” She breathes incredulously.

“It’s warning and a promise!”

“She won’t find out from me.” She shrugs. “But I’m going to enjoy watching how this wedding will play out—especially since Leigh hates surprises.”

Something in her words sends alarm bells ringing in my head. “Enough about Leigh. Tell me about the songbooks.”

“Was it one of your men that ransacked my mother’s dressing room looking for them?” Her accusation has me sighing in frustration.

“You should ask Leigh about her mother’s songbooks, not me.” She raises her chin defiantly. “It’s bad enough that I can’t warn her you’re planning to force her into marriage. Now you want me to stab her in the back by telling you about her mother’s songs?” She shakes her head stubbornly. “No.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Sabrina,” I warn, my tone chilling to something cold and impersonal. “But I know you’re lying. You know more about the journals than you’re letting on.” I watch her hesitate when I say journals instead of songbooks. That single flicker of reaction confirms my suspicion—it’s not a songbook at all.

“I was really hoping you’d cooperate,” I continue, my voice hardening. “But if not, I won’t hesitate to be more forceful. And trust me—if you think you’ll be the only one who suffers, you’re mistaken.”

“Now you’re threatening my family?” she hisses, outraged.

“Let’s stop fucking around, Sabrina. This back-and-forth is getting us nowhere,” I say coldly. “You may not believe this, but I promised Mark I’d protect Leigh and that’s what I’m trying to do here. All the break-ins were connected to those books.”

“You’re protecting her by locking her up in your fortress?” she snaps, her tone biting.

“It’s the safest place for her, especially now that I know exactly what’s at stake—and why every enemy I have suddenly wants her.”

A gasp escapes Sabrina’s lips. “So you know about Leigh, then?”

“That she’s the Greek matriarch’s granddaughter and her father somehow came back from the dead? Yes, I found out last night from Mark.” My voice sharpens, but I keep my gaze steady as her expression shifts.

“So that’s what this is about?” she says, her tone accusing. “You’re marrying her to take control of her family’s businesses.”

“No. I don’t give a fuck about that, in all honesty. It’s just another headache.” The truth of the words hit me as I say it. “I’m marrying her because she might also be carrying my child—and that puts her in even more danger.”

Her eyes widen, and I can tell she understands the implications immediately. “So you’ve just made her life even more dangerous,” she accuses. “And still expect me to help you?”

“We could stand here exchanging accusations all night,” I snap impatiently. “We’re wasting time. Whoever broke into your mother’s dressing room and my workplaces wants those books badly. I need to find out why—and Mark Dalton mentioned your name in connection with them.”

She raises her hand, stopping me. “So, let me get this straight—you want me to betray Leigh by helping you pry into her life? And you expect me to believe it’s to protect her?”

“No, Sabrina,” I say, shaking my head. “I want you to help me protect your best friend—from whoever’s after her inheritance and my family’s businesses. I don’t know how the two are connected, but I have a feeling something in those journals holds the answer.”

She stares at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nods. “Are you here alone, and do you have a car?”

“Yes to both questions. Why?”

“Because we’re going on a trip. Not too far—but if you want me to talk, I need to know I can trust you not to use this against Leigh.”

I frown, weighing the risk. This could be a trap. But if it brings me answers, what the hell. “Deal.”

“I’ll get dressed.” She steps closer and hands me her phone, her movements deliberate. “Here. To show you I won’t double-cross you.”

I glance at the device in my hand, her gesture heavy with meaning. It’s a measure of trust—one she wouldn’t offer unless she believed I’d honor it. Or maybe it’s calculated.

A subtle play that lets me know she has an escape plan if things go sideways. The thought lingers, prickling at my gut. Sabrina doesn’t strike me as someone who walks into danger without an exit strategy.

Still, I pocket the phone, my lips twitching into a wry smile. If this is her version of a white flag, I’ll take it—for now.

She turns, grabbing jeans, a T-shirt, a sweater, and sneakers, then hurries into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. The gesture of trust—or false security—makes me smile grimly. Either she’s trying to lull me into a trap, or she’s genuinely ready to help.

Right now, it’s a chance I’m willing to take if it means finally getting some fucking answers.

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