His Queen of Clubs (Vegas Underground 6)

Alessia

When I wake from the transplant operation, I’m alone in my room.

My worst fear again. Where’s Mika? Why hasn’t Vlad come to see me?

The door opens and three of my brothers march through—Junior, Gio and Paolo.

“There she is, eyes open this time,” Gio says with the fake jolliness you use with the ill or underage.

I should be happy to see them, but all I feel is fear on Vlad’s behalf. Have they hurt him? I didn’t get a chance to tell them not to.

“Where’s Vlad?”

Paolo scowls. “In recovery.”

I try to sit up, but it hurts too much. “What did you do to him?”

Junior shoots me a strange look. “He just gave you his kidney. Did you know that?”

My mouth falls open. “No.” It clicks into place. Why he was with the doctors instead of in my room before the surgery.

“It’s the only reason I didn’t put a bullet in his head,” Junior growls. “That and there’s a kid in his room who seems to care about him living.”

I blink back my tears. “Don’t...don’t hurt him. Please.”

Junior’s expression turns kindly. He squeezes my shoulder. Paolo and Gio move in closer, too. Gio picks up my hand. Paolo pats my leg.

“I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you,” Junior says. “All of it.” He waves his hand around the room. “It’s my fault the bratva came for you and I didn’t keep you safe. I fucked up.”

Tears leak out of my eyes. “Don’t.” My hands flutter. “Don’t blame yourself. I’m just sorry it ruined your wedding.”

Junior looks incredulous. “You gotta be kidding me. You’re sorry it ruined my wedding? Kiddo…” He touches my cheek with the backs of his fingers. He clears his throat like he’s getting choked up. “I’m just glad you’re okay. He never hurt you? Because I will seriously tear him limb—”

“No, Junior,” I interrupt. “He was actually… pretty sweet. Until we had a falling out at the end.”

“We’re taking you home, baby sister. We brought our own doctor and we have a private jet,” Gio says.

I lay my head back on the pillow and close my eyes. I’m going home.

I should be happy.

But I’m not. I’m just...empty.

Chapter 19

Vlad

“Here, let me take her.” I take the baby from Svetlana, the exhausted nanny, and carry her outside. I murmur softly to her and she stops fussing, hiccupping softly into my neck.

Her name is Lara, and she’s mine. Seven months old. Prettiest baby I’ve ever seen.

If it weren’t for her and Mika, I wouldn’t bother with anything. Eating. Sleeping. Living.

But with children, life goes on. They need us, so we show up.

So it seems.

Every day in Volgograd kills me though. Being at the estate without Alessia feels all wrong.

Everything here reminds me of her and I see her beautiful face everywhere I go.

I walk to the lake and back and the baby falls asleep on my chest. I carry her back in the house and lay her carefully down in her crib.

Mika’s at the laptop I bought him with Facebook open.

“What are you doing?” I look over his shoulder and my heart shatters. He has Alessia’s profile open. A photo of her in a cap and gown smiles up at me.

Mika slams the lid down like he’s been caught watching porn.

“Are you in contact with her?”

He shrugs.

I stand there utterly lost for a moment, not even sure how to reconcile the tsunami of emotions running through me.

Mika steals a glance at me. “Why aren’t we going to get her?”

A surprised scoff comes from my mouth. “Not an option. You heard what her brother said. I go to America I’m dead.”

Mika looks back evenly. “You’re not scared of them.”

He’s right. I’m not. I peer back at him. “How do you know?”

He gives his characteristic shrug. “You weren’t even scared when they had a cocked gun pointed at your head.”

“I reconciled myself to death a long time ago. Perversely, I think it’s what keeps me alive.”

Mika plays with the laptop, opening and closing the lid. “I’ve seen you scared, though.”

“Yeah?” I’m not sure I want to hear where this is going.

“When I pointed a gun at Alessia. And when she was sick.”

It feels like my insides are being torn out. “So?”

“So why aren’t we going to get her?”

“Because she doesn’t want us to. She doesn’t want me to,” I correct, not wanting him to feel abandoned by her, too.

Blyat, he probably totally feels abandoned.

“You never apologized to her,” he accuses.

And that’s a pain I live with every day.

I shove my fingers through my hair. “She doesn’t want to see me. And I’m not going to disturb her peace of mind again.”

It’s better this way.

The baby wakes up and starts crying again.

I go back in and pick her up. “I know, baby. I know just how you feel.”

Alessia

I lay by the pool on the roof of the Bellissimo and watch the sun set. A waiter brings me a Caesar salad, but I set it on the table beside me untouched. Eating is nothing but a chore these days.