Drago (Dangerous Love Book 3) Read online

  “Callahan? Your guy still have eyes there?”

  Maxim nodded.

  “Okay, keep him there, but send a couple of other men down there with him. Have them watch it overnight while we make a plan to get our shipment back. If anything happens, tell me immediately. We have to figure out why the fuck Callahan bothered to get involved with a Bratva controlled gun-running operation.”

  Maxim frowned, his black brows pinched in thought. “Yeah, you’re right. Callahan doesn’t really work for anybody, why would he fuck with our regular shipments? He knows what could happen to him.” Maxim punched his clenched fist into the palm of his opposite hand, demonstrating exactly what would happen if we got our hands on Callahan.

  “He must have been significantly rewarded to interfere with our business. Now we have to figure out who the fuck hired him. Keep your men glued to that warehouse. I’d like to take it back tonight, but I want to see who shows up to check out the merchandise.”

  Maxim left to carry out my orders. I started to feel the kick of adrenaline that always rushed through me when we had a confrontation brewing. With that awareness humming in the back of my mind, I decided to try and resolve another situation that was becoming a major distraction. I grabbed my burner phone and typed out a text.

  Drago: I need to meet with you. Lakefront.

  Nikolai: Time?

  Drago: Same as before.

  I didn’t expect a response, so I threw the phone down and focused on figuring out who had decided picking a fight with the Chicago Bratva would be a good idea. They would quickly learn the error in their thinking.

  Chapter 4

  Katya

  I rolled into the school’s cafeteria, grabbed a tray of what looked like fettuccini alfredo, and searched over the sea of people for Hannah and Nikolai. We were close to the end of our second year of college and I still felt profound gratitude that they were here with me.

  Even though I liked to act independent and unaffected by my past, it was hard not having a family. My mother disappeared when I was a child, and my father, whom I’d always hated, ended up being so much more horrific than I had ever imagined. We never had a warm relationship, or any relationship for that matter, but learning he had sold me to Nikolai’s father was therapy session fodder for years to come.

  I had an older brother, Ivan, but he was Drago’s liaison with Mikhail in Russia and frequently traveled to Moscow. I think he volunteered for the position in Russia. There were a lot of demons in Chicago he still hadn’t dealt with, and that seemed to be the way he preferred it. We were similar in our desire to avoid dealing with our problems—he ran and I repressed. We would make for an excellent case study.

  I had wanted to live on campus, meet new people, but Drago insisted that I commute to school because my house was much easier to secure than a dorm room on a college campus. Again, I wanted to be angry that he was restricting my college experience, but his concerns were not unfounded. I hated having to be so reasonable.

  I spotted Hannah, and where there was Hannah, ninety-nine percent of the time, there was Nikolai. Even though they’d been together for years now, I still found it dumbfounding that Nikolai was such a devoted, affectionate boyfriend. Having known him since childhood, I’d watched him turn from a rage-filled kid with violent tendencies into a man who truly cared about someone else more than himself. Although, who wouldn’t have anger management issues after living with Yuri for all those years?

  I quickly hurried to where they were sitting. Hannah was animatedly sharing some story while Nikolai stared at her with what could only be described as loving indulgence. Hannah was chatty, and Nikolai seemed to soak up her natural gregariousness. It made him appear less hardened and remote.

  “Hey, guys,” I said, sitting across from them.

  Nikolai swung his gaze from Hannah and gave me a half-smile. “What’s up, Katya?” He shot a quick look over my shoulder and gave a nod to Vilhelm, who went by the very non-Russian nickname of Will, and Boris, who were kind enough to sit a table away. They were young enough to not look too out of place in the college setting, though Boris was a couple of years older than Will, but their stiffness and hypervigilance were hard to overlook.

  Hannah reached across the table, and affectionately grabbed my hand. “Katya! How’s it going?”

  I became friends with Hannah when she started dating Nikolai. Their relationship started as a ruse to get a guy that had been hassling Hannah off her back, but that didn’t last long. Nikolai quickly realized how amazing Hannah was, made their relationship official, and has been glued to her side ever since.

  Hannah had been there during our confrontation with Yuri and was well aware of the toll the last couple of years had taken on me. I felt grateful every day for her friendship, considering being friends with me came with considerable baggage and risks of bodily harm. Hannah’s sister, Emmy, had been kidnapped by Yuri in order to get to me, so the fact that Hannah still even spoke to me was a miracle.

  “Pretty good, you know how midterms are. How are your classes going?” I asked.

  “Ugh, I was just telling Nikolai.” Hannah jerked her thumb in his direction as his hand skated up her back and wrapped around the back of her neck. I smirked in Nikolai’s direction at the possessive gesture, but he simply glowered at me. He was convinced there was a guy lurking around every corner plotting to steal Hannah away from him. Or, that’s how he acted, at least.

  I liked teasing him about his overprotectiveness, but there was something bittersweet about watching their loving interactions. It sent of an arrow of longing lancing through my chest, not to mention a pang of envy. I smiled, attempting to pull my thoughts from their melancholy direction. “What’s wrong?”

  “My professor is just awful. He expects us to read, like, a hundred pages for every class, and you can’t even blow it off because he gives a quiz before each lecture on the readings, and now I just found our midterm is cumulative!” Hannah huffed.

  “What class?”

  “Political science. My major, sadly, or I’d have dropped the second week,” Hannah replied, and woefully dropped her head on Nikolai’s shoulder. He reached down and kissed the top of her dark head.

  “I’ve never been happier to be a Fine Arts major,” I replied with gratitude as I twirled some pasta on a fork and popped it in my mouth. It tasted like paste, but it would have to do because I was starving.

  “Seriously. If I didn’t want to go to law school, I’d switch to your major, Katya,” Hannah replied as she scooped yogurt into her mouth, and Nikolai took a big bite out of his hamburger. She was also forgetting that her artistic skills were reminiscent of a four-year-old drawing with their non-dominant hand, but I didn’t want to kick her while she was down.

  Instead, I decided to poke at Nikolai. “I wish you could switch majors, Hannah. You would not believe how many hot guys are in my classes.” I was really being a jerk here, but I couldn’t help taunting Nikolai with his over the top jealousy.

  He shot me a ferocious glare and started grunting around his food as he rushed to swallow it. He gulped down some water and slammed it back on the table. “What the fuck, Katya?”

  I looked at Hannah and we both dissolved into gales of laughter, as Nikolai grabbed Hannah around the waist and pulled her tightly to his side as if a group of marauding art students would show up and spirit her away.

  “I’m just kidding, Nikolai. You’re a little ridiculous, you know?”

  “I don’t care,” he grunted at me and reached his hand in Hannah’s long, dark hair to pull her mouth to his in a hard kiss, as much a demonstration of ownership as it was affection. As if any guy at this school would dare look twice in Hannah’s direction with Nikolai acting like a Neanderthal all the time. Well, not anymore. Freshman year had been a rough adjustment for everyone.

  Hannah simply smiled at him and rubbed his cheek as if soothing a wild beast. “Calm down, Nik,” she crooned.

  He rolled his eyes at her placating tone, but kissed
her forehead and picked up his phone, no doubt to tune us out. He frowned and started typing into his phone.

  “Something wrong?” I asked. Although I knew he wouldn’t tell me if it had anything to do with the Bratva. He might not be an official member of the Bratva right now, but he and Drago were close, and there were times he involved Nikolai in the business, particularly if it was regarding Nikolai’s father.

  He shot me a quick look, then returned to his typing. “No.”

  Yeah, right.

  Chapter 5

  Drago

  I rolled up to the lakefront at dusk and parked my black Mercedes on the opposite side of the lot from Nikolai’s Range Rover. I pulled a cigarette out of my jacket pocket, lighting it quickly as I walked towards a small grove.

  Nikolai was standing in the trees about thirty feet from shore, his arms crossed, his expression wary and apprehensive. I should have told him this wasn’t about his father, but it hadn’t occurred to me that’s where his mind had likely gone until this moment.

  “What’s going on?” he gritted out when I got to him.

  “This isn’t about Yuri,” I replied, breathing out smoke with my reply.

  I saw his shoulders relax as he took a deep breath.

  “Okay, what’s up, then?”

  “I need your help with Katya.”

  Nikolai’s eyebrows jumped as he looked at me speculatively. “How so?”

  “She is getting sick of dealing with the guards, having no life, and I imagine, having no friends outside of you, Hannah, and Anya.”

  Nikolai frowned. “What did you have in mind? It’s not like you’re having her guarded for the fucking fun of it. She’s a target for as long as my dad’s still alive.”

  I nodded. “You’re right, of course, but she feels like a prisoner. I need to give her some kind of space every once in a while, so she won’t resent us guarding her so much and end up doing something impulsive and stupid. I know she understands the purpose, but that doesn’t mean she’s happy about it.”

  Nikolai shrugged. “Okay, what can I do about it?”

  “Maybe once a week or something, you guys could take her out somewhere fun. With you and Hannah with her, I could take one of the men off of her, so she won’t feel so crowded. Just tell me where you’re going so I can send some guys to check out the place and make sure it’s safe.”

  By Nikolai’s expression, you’d think I suggested he stick his hand in a beehive. His grimace of distaste spoke volumes. He liked Katya, but going to a place where she, and probably Hannah, considered fun would result in a combination of boredom and hypervigilance. Hardly a relaxing evening. However, he knew I wouldn’t ask him this lightly, so he nodded his head in agreement.

  “Sure, I mean, the whole fucking reason she’s practically prisoner is because of my sick as fuck father, right?”

  I clapped him on the shoulder in appreciation. “Don’t mention I told you to do this, Nikolai. The less Katya knows about how I involved myself in this, the better.”

  He shot me a considering look. “Why can’t I tell her?”

  I sighed. “She already thinks I control her life too much. I need her to feel some sense of independence, so she won’t resent me so much and end up putting herself in danger.”

  “What the fuck is up with you two?” Nikolai asked bluntly.

  I took a long drag of my cigarette and tipped my head back to blow out the smoke, considering how to respond to Nikolai’s question. “Nothing.”

  He snorted. “Sure.”

  The night his father tried to kidnap Katya and got away, he saw how things were between Katya and me. At the time, I was so focused on recovering her that I wasn’t as guarded with my feelings as usual. Even though I trusted Nikolai, discomfort sat in my gut like a cannonball. I continued to stare at him impassively, and he blew out an annoyed breath.

  “Whatever. I’ll take Katya out this weekend, okay?”

  I nodded and rubbed my cigarette out on a tree and pocketed the butt. “Thank you.”

  “Should I encourage her to dance with other guys?” he asked, his smirk returning.

  I shot him a scowl. “Fuck you.” Then I turned and walked back to my car.

  Chapter 6

  Katya

  I woke to the chirp of an incoming text, but simply laid back in bed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. It was Saturday, but it wasn’t like I had anything planned. I was beginning to think that Yuri Ivanov fell off a cliff somewhere, and his last act of domination was for me to live like a virtual prisoner in fear of his ghost for the rest of my life.

  I rolled over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand.

  Hannah: Hey, girl! We’re going out to a club tonight! I asked Nikolai to help me arrange it, and he did. Are you up for it? Just so you know, I’m not letting you say no. 

  I stared at the phone in confusion. I knew full well who Nikolai had cleared my night out with. My question was, why? Hannah must have begged him to ask Drago for permission to let me go out. It’s not like I was an actual prisoner. I did things, but my options were limited because I had, like, three friends, and since one of them was Nikolai, he tended to keep our social activities brief and low-key. I had hardly ever gone dancing or to concerts to see my favorite bands.

  Just thinking of what Hannah might be cooking up was lifting the dreary mood I had sunken into for the last few months.

  Katya: No arm twisting needed! Where are we going? I need to know how to dress ;)

  Hannah: We’re going to Club Phoenix, so wear your clubbing clothes, girl! Maybe you’ll meet a man!

  I rolled my eyes at that. I couldn’t imagine being interested in anyone besides Drago. Still, since he shot me down and has yet to give me any indication that those feelings have changed, I was determined to consider possibility of someone new in my life.

  I jumped out of bed and padded down the hallway to my kitchen. When Drago moved out of my house after my graduation, I got an apartment near my college, just north of Chicago. I was more than happy to leave behind the house and the unhappy memories associated with it.

  When I got to the kitchen, I saw that Anya had already made coffee. My roommate, Anya Koslov, worked for Drago, so it wasn’t like your typical roommate situation. At first, I was resentful of her. In my mind, she was a representation of Drago’s rejection and a constant reminder of him. It was also another symbol of how bodyguards had invaded my life. However, over the last couple of years, Anya had become one of my best friends. We rarely discussed Drago, and I didn’t think she knew anything about our personal relationship.

  I found her sitting in front of her computer at the kitchen table, staring intently at the screen. Anya was only a couple of years older than me but had been trained like one of the men in the organization by her father, so she was deadlier than she appeared. Her father, Igor, had been close with Yuri, but died a year before Yuri had been removed as Pakhan. She didn’t share her father’s sense of loyalty and had frequently confided in me how creepy and unsettling she’d found Yuri.

  Her frame was petite, but her body was toned from frequent physical conditioning. She wasn’t particularly attentive to grooming or fashion, with long, platinum blonde hair frequently thrown up in a ponytail or a disheveled bun. I think she only kept it long because it was easier to deal with it. She had piercing, icy blue eyes that were typically guarded and watchful, though I wasn’t sure if that was because she was always my de facto guard or because she was raised by a guy like Igor. She looked like more like a Viking than a Russian, and, when riled, had a temperament to match. When most people saw her, she looked small and harmless, but given her history, she was far from it.

  Although she was supposedly a good fighter—I’d never seen it firsthand—and was comfortable shooting a gun, I was certain she was chosen to be my roommate due to her gender. Although he would never admit it, Drago didn’t like the idea of another man sleeping in my house. He had stayed with me himself until I finished high school. After my meltdown
and declaration after graduation, I was grateful that he moved out so I wouldn’t have to deal with his awkwardness and my humiliation. I needed to sell the house, so I let him take care of those details and find this place. That’s when Anya showed up.

  The number of females who worked for the Bratva were practically non-existent. It was an incredibly male-dominated organization, generally speaking. Women were typically considered weak and seen as objects. Objects to protect, to use, to sleep with and, sometimes, to marry. Anya was an outlier, and according to what she had told me, she didn’t really start working for the organization until Drago took over. He still had reservations about employing a woman, and usually kept her out of harm’s way, but the fact that he did allow her in the Bratva officially, and trusted her with my life, spoke volumes of his opinion of her.

  In fact, his high opinion of her would have been the source of writhing jealousy if I didn’t know she was hung up on someone else. She hadn’t told me who it was, but I knew something had been recently going on with her. Though Anya and I had become close friends, she was still guarded—no doubt a direct result of her upbringing amongst murderers, thieves, and thugs. I’d never confided in her about my feelings about Drago, either, though she has thrown more than one curious glance when I would ask about him, no matter how off-handedly I tried to do it.

  “Hey,” I greeted, reaching for the carafe of coffee. I poured myself a cup and plopped down across from her.

  “Hey,” she shot me a glance and responded distractedly.

  I cocked my head and looked at her. Her blonde hair twisted up in a crazy bun on top of her head, and she was wearing dark-framed glasses that made her blue eyes pop in contrast. She looked more like a young college student than a member of the Bratva.

  “What are you working on?”

  Anya shot me a pained look. This was always an issue between us—how much she should divulge about what she was doing. She knew she could trust me, but I suspected her natural guardedness combined with Drago’s directives kept her from sharing too much of whatever task she had been assigned.