“Not a lot. I read a Forbes article long ago where Lockheed Martin was selling fifth-generation fighter aircrafts at $85 million each.”
“That’s high.” Kazimir chuckled and began to dress. “Luckily for my uncle, he didn’t buy his jets from Lockheed Martin.”
“Who did he get them from?”
“Me.” Kazimir stepped into his pants.
Yes. Of course, you have another country’s fighter jets. That’s a great way to get you on the Most Wanted List for sure.
I went for my clothes, shaken by all of this. It was one thing to know I’d slept with a man who had power. It was another to realize he was at the top of the food chain when it came to global arms trafficking. The type of person that could give old American fighter jets to his uncle was not the type of man that anybody should fuck with.
Daryl, you damn fool.
Even though my brother set me up for murder and tried to kill me, I still had a tiny bit of worry for him. I’d been stressed over him all my life. But this time, I wouldn’t help him. I wouldn’t even try to step in the way.
I would let Kazimir handle it and hope for the best.
Right now, all I could think about was making sure that Maxwell, Xavier, and I survived. Somewhere in between that survival, I would then make sense of this…relationship with Kazimir.
We dressed in silence. Our plane lowered little by little. The fighters flanked us, making the whole moment surreal. I knew Maxwell was in front of the plane and probably shitting his pants.
We dressed and prepared to go.
I put on my jacket and freshened up my lipstick.
“How do we walk in?” I said. It was probably odd to ask, but I had to be careful in everything, even with how we appeared to others.
This was his world. His rules.
He appeared as if in pain to say the word. “Separately.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t want anyone to know how important you are to me yet.” He glanced at the door. “I still have to figure out who’s friend or foe.”
“Okay. I’ll stay close to Maxwell and X—”
“And Luka along with my men.”
“I understand that Luka will still be guarding me, but—”
“Protecting you.”
“Of course.” I nodded. “So, I can go wherever I want to, and Luka will just be with me?”
“No.”
I blinked.
“For now, you go where I say. When we get to Moscow, then you’ll have more freedom.”
“But not full freedom?” I asked. “I’m sorry to push this topic, but I’m big on independence.”
“I like that about you.” He didn’t answer my question, which said more than it needed to.
What were we doing and where the hell were we going with this? Was he my boss or my lover? It couldn’t be both. I’d never had a boss or lover for too long, nothing more than a week. How would we figure this out? Did he understand that I had to be in control of my own life?
Okay. I’ll listen as much as possible. I’ll only break the rules I can’t deal with.
“You’re too busy to worry about independence for now.” He adjusted his jacket. “For now, the focus is this war our brothers have started.”
“True.”
He stood in front of the door. “Are you ready for my world?”
“Yes.”
He opened the door for me. “Let’s go, mysh.”
Scared out of my mind, but feeling safe because he was near, I walked through that door with my head high and hopefully confidence in my eyes.
Two
Kazimir
Uncle Igor was on edge due to the news of my death. The fighters that flanked Valentina’s plane told me that.
Luka had confirmed the rest with his disruption of my kiss with Emily.
Apparently, one of my uncle’s pilots contacted ours. He wanted to know who was on the plane and why had they come. Uncle Igor was with me when we bought it, so he knew it was Valentina’s, but he wasn’t sure of who was inside this time. Therefore, he suspected foul play.
Our pilot only explained that Valentina and her crew were on it. My death needed to remain hidden until I revealed myself as being alive. For now, I was intrigued to see how things had been in my world for the past seven hours. Who remained loyal?
Meanwhile, these moments with Emily represented the best in my life. I almost didn’t get off the plane and instructed the pilot to have us fly some more. What would it have hurt to spend a week in the air with Emily, her slick curvy body sliding against mine above the clouds?
Once we hit the ground, the lightness of what Emily and I had shared left us.
Already, there was space between us. I was in the front. She remained in the back with her men.
The door opened. Together, Valentina and I stepped off the plane. Oleg flanked her right. The rest of our men guarded us in a circle as we headed to the limo. Anyone looking from afar probably had no idea who our men were protecting.
My feet touched the earth and pressure weighed down on my shoulders. A cold chill blew by. Fall in Prague was chilly. There hadn’t been much leftover summer warmth this September.
Still a winter cold hit my bones, stronger than any wind could be, a sensation I hadn’t experienced since my prison days. And I couldn’t point to why. Someone trying to kill me wasn’t a new thing, no matter how close the person had been to me. An oncoming war for the Bratva wasn’t new either. Conflict came and went like the seasons of a year—one killed through the winter and counted the money during the summer.
Why am I worried now? Is it because it could be more than Sasha going against me?
Four armored tanks sat outside of the airport’s runway, pointing our way. That gave me an unsettling feeling, but it hadn’t twisted the knots forming in my stomach.
Will this end with Sasha and Daryl or are there more people working against me?
Two stretch limos were in the opposite direction. I was sure my uncle had arranged them. Each one would have plenty of space for ten people along with televisions and a full bar. Which was good because I needed a drink. I was on edge—more than usual.
I’ll have to anticipate everyone close to me and wonder if they’re an enemy.
Noticing the tanks, Oleg pursed his lips, got closer to my sister, and pulled his gun out.
I shook my head at Oleg. “Put your gun away. No one’s harming Valentina.”
Oleg nodded and did as I ordered.
Could Oleg be a part of this? Hmmm. But, he’s been Valentina’s pet, the first moment he spotted her.
Today, the man wore a black suit and bright pink buttoned shirt that was opened at the top, revealing the tattooed dagger through his neck. No doubt Valentina had dressed him.
Long ago, I’d met him in jail due to that tattoo. I remembered that at the center of his chest was the Virgin Mary holding a baby Jesus. A church framed the pair. A holy cross made of knives served as the background.
Unfortunately, in my world, symbols of churches and crosses didn’t represent his belief in God. They identified the type of criminal he was. The Virgin Mary and Jesus showed his devotion to thievery and further conviction for murdering anyone that got in his way. Even the bordering churches’ domes represented how many sentences he’d served.