Bratva Sinner (A Possessive Mafia Romance) - Page 26

“I thought Russians only ate fish and caviar.”

“That’s just a stereotype.” I nodded at German. “You ready to go?”

“Ready as always, although maybe we should bring more guys.”

“We’ll be fine. If the Pakhan wants the girl, we’ll handle it ourselves, understood?”

German’s eye met mine, and I think he understood what I meant. I didn’t say we’d hand Cara over without question. I said we’d handle it, which could’ve gone a million different ways.

But he nodded once sharply and gestured toward the door. “After you, boss.”

I stood up, stretched and waved at Cara. “Come on, let’s go get this done.”

She chewed her lip but followed me outside. The car ride over was quiet, with German in the back seat and Cara up front. I kept running scenarios over and over in my head, trying to decide what I’d do if the Pakhan ordered me to give Cara over to the Lionettis but I couldn’t see past that horrible moment.

I didn’t know if I’d obey or if I’d fight.

But maybe the question and the uncertainty were a sort of answer in itself. I’d never wondered if I’d take an order from the Pakhan before, and never wondered if I’d listen to him in the end, but with Cara in my life now, I suddenly had a reason to go against the family.

Maybe that was answer enough. That it was a possibility meant that I’d protect her, no matter what happened.

It set my teeth on edge and was more than a little disconcerting, but I didn’t have too long to obsess. The deli was a rundown place deep in South Philly tucked in a little strip of stores close to the Delaware River. The air smelled like car exhaust and algae as I got out and waited on the sidewalk for Cara.

German went first. The deli had no sign out front, only big glass windows that showed the interior, which was mostly empty except for a few guys hanging around toward the back. The employees didn’t seem to notice the guys, and for good reason—they were always there, practically fixtures.

I grabbed Cara’s wrist before she could follow German. “I know you won’t like this, but do me a favor and try not to say anything in there, all right?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why, do you think I’ll make things harder?”

“Not necessarily, but the boss can be a difficult man, and I don’t want you to say something that makes him decide to give you back to the Lionettis. I don’t want to have to be in the position to say no to him, do you understand?”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, I understand.”

I moved closer before she could pull back. “You look good today, little princess.” My other hand moved around to touch her hip. “If it comes to it, I’m not going to let them take you.”

Then I moved away and headed inside. She followed after a beat, her cheeks flushed, her fingers tugging nervously at her hair.

German stood by the Pakhan’s table in the back. Several of the Pakhan’s guards stood around reading papers, magazines, eating sandwiches, looking bored. I nodded to a few and joined German.

Pakhan Evgeni Morozov was an older man in his sixties and a bear of a human being. He wore a white tank top and a pair of big jeans, and his shoulders were covered in a fine brown hair. He was heavy, with a square jaw and the nose of a boxer, broken and swollen. His arms were thick and long, but he ate with a strange delicacy, like he didn’t want to get his fingers dirty, and his dark eyes roamed up across me then down Cara with an intense intelligence. His hair was thinning and gray and pushed back over his scalp, and overall, I wouldn’t have given him a second glance on the street, except I knew Evgeni was as wily as an eel and twice as dangerous.

“Luke and German,” he rumbled, his voice deep and still slightly accented, though he hadn’t lived in Russia in a very long time. “My two favorite soldiers. Are you here on business, or did you bring your Pakhan a little present?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at Cara.

I stood close to her protectively. “Pakhan, this is Cara. She’s the girl the Lionettis have been looking for.”

Evgeni’s eyebrows rose high. “This is the one? I heard you might be involved but since I didn’t hear from you, I thought it wasn’t true.”

“It’s a complicated situation, but we came to discuss things with you.”

Evgeni grunted and gestured at the table. “Sit then. Want something to eat?”

“No, thank you,” I said. Cara took the chair next to me, and German stayed on his feet, leaning back against the counter nearby.

We were outnumbered six to one, and if it came to a fight, we’d easily lose. I just had to hope I could keep things under control.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Crime
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