“All right,” I say, tugging her backwards. “Let’s get you back to the hotel.”
“Can you guys stay for dinner?” Kayla asks brightly.
“No,” I snap. “They can’t. They’re heading back to Chicago. Say goodbye.”
Kayla lifts a hand and waves. “Bye guys. Nice to meet you.”
I walk Kayla back across the street and through the front doors of the Four Seasons. “Be good. Enjoy the spa.”
A furrow creases between her brows. “Are you guys going to—”
I stop her with a finger on her lips. “Go upstairs, malysh. I’ll see you when I get back.”
She hesitates a moment, like she’s going to argue, so I raise my brows. “Yes, sir.” She lifts her face for a kiss. I brush my lips over hers. The darkness of what I’m about to do already shrouds me, makes me want to keep my distance from her. To not sully her brightness with what I am.
I should let her go, I tell myself for the hundredth time.
Never, a new voice answers. A dark voice. The one that wants to consume all that Kayla is. Claim her and keep her forever. Suck everything out of her until she’s dry.
Never.
What can I say? It feels right to be so wrong.
12
Pavel
“All security cameras have been put on loop and the locks are open,” Dima says, his fingers clicking over the keys on his laptop in the back of the van.
Nikolai puts the van in drive and coasts forward the remaining half block until we reach the iron gates that close the entrance to Blake Ensign’s home.
“The gate is...now open.” Dima reports just before the gates swing wide to let us in. “I brought masks. They’re in that bag.” Dima doesn’t look away from his screen; his fingers still move across the keyboard, clicking away. I have yet to see anything the guy can’t hack with enough time.
I open the bag and stare at the ski masks. Part of me doesn’t want to wear one. I want this fucker to see my face when we’re talking. But I can always take it off. I pull mine out and toss out the rest to the guys.
“He lives alone?” I ask Dima.
“Yep. How else would he get blowies from all the women he casts?”
My lip curls, and Dima shoots me a look over the top of his laptop before he snaps the lid closed. “He definitely picked the wrong actress this time.”
He did. “I promised Kayla I wouldn’t kill him,” I warn my brothers. “So don’t let me take it too far.”
“We’ve got your back,” Nikolai promises, turning from the front seat and pulling on his knit mask.
Dima taps the lid of his computer. “I have ways to hurt him that don’t even require bloodshed.” He pulls on his as well.
Oleg already wears his, his size and silence making him the most terrifying in appearance of the four of us.
“Brat'ya,” I address my brothers in Russian, “Spasibo.” Thank you.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the fucking world,” Nikolai says easily, sliding out of the van. “Let’s do this thing.”
I palm the revolver I found in the bag with the caps. Nikolai also pulls one out. Oleg prefers to rely on his hands, which are capable of snapping a man’s neck with a single twitch. Dima brings the laptop along. I can’t fucking wait to hear what damage he holds in there.
I do the polite thing and ring the bell. I hope to fuck he doesn’t have servants in the house at the moment—scaring the innocent isn’t my thing.
A mid-fifties asshole with salt and pepper hair pulls the door open, then tries to slam it shut when he catches sight of us. Oleg catches the door and shoves it in.
I point my gun in the center of Ensign’s forehead. “Hey asshole. I have a few things to say to you.”
“What the fuck is this?” He’s not scared yet, he’s pissed. The man wears entitlement like it’s a second skin.
Oleg grips his throat and lifts, using his superior height to lift the bastard off his heels.
He chokes, his face turning purple, eyes bulging. Oleg knows exactly how long to hold him. Long enough he starts thinking he might die right here in his entryway.
When he releases him, Ensign collapses in a heap on the floor. Nikolai kicks the door shut behind us.
“What—” Ensign coughs and sputters, holding his throat with one hand as he drags himself back up to his feet.
“Should we take him somewhere?” Dima affects a bored tone. “Is there a nice rug we could ruin with his blood?”
“Wh-who are you guys? What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“Adjust his tone.” I make my voice as cool and bored as Dima’s but don’t quite succeed. I sound invested in his pain. I am invested in his pain.
Oleg delivers a couple choice blows—one to his gut, one to his jaw, knocking him backward onto his ass again.
“We’ll take him to the casting room. I want to see the couch where he takes his dick out.” I deliver a sharp kick to his ribs. “Where is that?”
“What?” He’s still more angry than scared. His face contorts with belligerence.
I point my gun right at his crotch. “You wanna keep those balls? Take me to the fucking room where you asked my girl to suck your dick.”
I see a flash of fear now. He understands why we’re here. What we want. Or maybe he just sees that I’m a ruthless bastard. He hides it quickly. I’ll give him that—the guy’s not a total coward. I actually thought he’d be softer. The kind who begged the moment he saw a gun.
“Just shoot it off,” Nikolai suggests when he doesn’t answer immediately.
“Upstairs.” His attitude adjusts quickly. He points toward a spiral staircase. “In my office.”
I kick him again. “Take us there.”
He groans as he climbs to his feet. I press the tip of my revolver to the back of his head as he hobbles forward up the stairs.
“Who are you?” he asks when we get into his office. “Which girl?”
“Which girl,” Nikolai repeats the damning phrase. “How many have there been?”
He doesn’t answer.
“How many yesterday?” I ask, just before Oleg delivers a blow to his jaw that sends him careening into the heavy maple desk.
Dima takes a seat and cracks open the laptop. “Looks like you saw forty-five women yesterday, is that right?”
Ensign shoots him a frightened glance, like that kind of information wasn’t public knowledge.
“Yes, I am in your email, in case you were wondering. I’m also in your bank account. The one at Wells Fargo, the one at Fidelity, the one at Vanguard, and also the off-shore account in Barbados. Looks like your current balance is two million, eight hundred fifty thousand and some change. Does that sound right?”
Ensign pales, shooting scared glances between me and Dima. “Wh-what the fuck is going on here?”
Oleg punches him in the gut.
I fold my arms across my chest. Honestly, I’m afraid if I do get my hands on him, I’ll finish the job. “I thought I made it pretty clear. You asked my girl to suck your dick. I’m going to kick your ass. I’m also thinking about cutting your dick off to prevent future incidents. We’ll see how long it takes you to say sorry.”