Painted Scars: An Opposites Attract Mafia Romance (Perfectly Imperfect Book 1) -
Painted Scars: Chapter 14
My knee is much better the following morning, but it still hurts like hell when I place any weight on my right leg. After breakfast, I ditch the crutches and take the wheelchair. I haven’t been using it for weeks, and I hate that I have to now, but I don’t want to risk any further damage to my knee. Nina may not have a problem with me using the crutches, but I do. Whatever it takes, I’m getting to that bloody cane, because I want to be able to hold her hand in mine when I’m taking her to dinner or even just for a walk.
“I’m going downstairs. Igor is teaching me to make borsch.” Nina smiles, leans in, and kisses me. “Want me to bring lunch when I come back?”
“Yeah, I’ll be working from here. And tell that boar that if he dares to raise his voice to my wife again, he’s done.”
“Don’t be an ogre, Roman.”
I watch her leave, then go to my bedroom and turn on the laptop. Bringing up the audio software, I replace the recording from Leonid’s room and play the feed at the approximate moment we came back last night.
There was a specific reason for me hiding the fact that my leg is getting better. I was almost positive that seeing me walking again would lead Leonid into trying something, and I wanted to catch his partner before that. It’s been almost five months, and since I failed to replace out who the motherfucker is, it was time to nudge Leonid into action. Based on the way he stared at me last night, I have a feeling that there is a nice surprise waiting for me.
In the middle of the recording, I finally replace what I am looking for. Leonid is calling someone, and since the timestamp at the corner of the screen shows two a.m., I’m pretty sure it’s not a business-related call. What surprises me though, is the person who answers.
“We need to try again. That bastard is walking,” Leonid says.
“Hm. I’m not sure it works for me anymore, Leonid,” answers Tanush.
“You can’t change your mind now!”
“Of course, I can. I acted impulsively. I was mad because Petrov rejected my daughter, and I wanted to make him pay. But he makes me good money.”
“We had a deal, Tanush. You help me take him out of the picture, and I make sure you get a better cut when I take over.”
“See, that’s the thing, Leonid. Even if you give me a bigger cut, I doubt you can keep the business going. I decided I don’t want to risk it. I’m out.”
The line goes dead.
I lean back in my chair, take my phone, and call Maxim. “Where is Leonid?”
“He’s out. I heard him tell Valentina to bring him his dinner up at five.”
“That won’t be necessary. I want everyone off the upper floor after four. And I mean everyone. No one comes up until I give word.”
There is silence on the other side, probably Maxim connecting the dots.
“I’ll make sure it’s done. What about Nina?”
“I need her out of the house. Dushku’s daughter is getting married, and he invited us to attend. I’ll send her to shop for a gift. Tell Dimitri to send Ivan with her. They are not to come back under any circumstances before I call him. I don’t care what he needs to do to distract her, but she’s not coming back here until I’m done. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Pakhan.”
* * *
It takes some convincing, but I manage to send Nina away around four. She was bent on us having dinner together, but she caved when I said that I have too much work to do.
I enter my walk-in closet and take my gun. After checking it, I grab my crutches and head into Leonid’s room. I sit in the recliner in the corner, directly across from the door, place the gun on the coffee table, and then I wait.
Sometime before five, Leonid enters the room. Seeing me there, his eyebrows shoot up, but he collects himself rather quickly. “Something happened?”
“Close the door, Leonid.”
“Roman?”
“The door,” I say.
He does as he’s told, and starts walking toward me when he notices the gun on the table. He stills, eyes going wide, then turns to run away. I take the gun and, pointing to his right knee, I shoot.
The sound explodes in the room, and Leonid’s scream follows. He crumbles to the floor on his side and starts wailing, clutching his bloodied leg.
“If you wanted to take my place, you really should have made sure I was dead, Leonid.”
“Bastard,” he sneers through his teeth, his spit flying everywhere. “I’m going to kill you!”
Screaming, he lurches in my direction, his hands raised like a madman’s. I aim at his head and let the bullet fly. His body crumbles to the floor, blood pooling around his head.
“You had your chance for that, Uncle,” I say to his prone body.
I stand up and start walking toward the door when Leonid’s phone rings. I consider ignoring it, but then bend down and reach for it, while my knee screams in pain. The screen shows an unknown number. I take the call.
“I found her,” the voice from the other side says. “Prepare the money transfer.”
The call disconnects.
Nina
“Are you sure?” I look over the vase I’m holding. “It’s atrocious. I’m positive they will love it, and this one already costs more than a car.”
“Pakhan said it needs to be something large.” Ivan shrugs his shoulders and stands behind me.
“I’ll ask if they have bigger vases.” I turn toward the sales assistant.
I feel overwhelmed with all the fancy pieces of décor on display around me. It makes me nervous knowing that the cheapest item here has at least three zeroes on the price tag. There were much more appropriate things that could be brought as a wedding gift, but for some reason, Roman insisted I come all the way across Chicago and choose something from this exact shop. Everything here is so over the top, including the golden chandeliers and life-size David replicas. It makes me shudder. Some people have really weird taste.
I pass the tall glass vitrine holding sets of crystal glasses when I hear a sound piercing the air. The vitrine shatters and falls to the ground, a million tiny glass pieces exploding everywhere. People start screaming. Hands grab me around the waist and pull me down to the floor. In the next moment, Ivan is hunched over me, ushering me toward the back of the store. Another shot rings out and I stumble, reaching with my hand to avoid hitting the floor headfirst. Pain sears my palm. With his hand clutched around my upper arm, Ivan keeps dragging me toward the emergency exit, while shouting into the phone he holds with his other hand.
We burst through the emergency exit into the back alley at the same moment a car comes around the corner. The tires screech when the car stops abruptly. Ivan pushes me back inside the doorway, reaches into his jacket, and takes out a gun. I hear two shots ring out almost simultaneously.
“Stay there,” he says over his shoulder and leaves my sight.
A couple of seconds later, I hear another shot. I have no idea what’s happening. Is it a random shooting or someone trying to kill us? Should I stay here or go back inside? Should I get out and look for Ivan? I’m so scared, I’m not sure I could move from the spot even if I knew where I should go.
I look down at my left hand where a big chunk of glass is half-buried in my palm, blood pooling around it. It hurts like hell.
Footsteps are coming from the alley, fast, so I take a deep breath and wait to see who it’ll be.
Ivan enters my line of sight, grabs my hand, and takes me running down the street. I throw a look over my shoulder and see the car. The driver’s door is wide open and an unmoving figure lays on the ground. Sirens blare somewhere in the distance, but the sound is nearing.
My steps falter, but Ivan keeps dragging me down the street and then around the corner toward the parking lot where he parked our car.
He opens the door and is ushering me inside when he sees my hand and hisses.
“Nina Petrova! Dear God, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Didn’t seem like a priority back there,” I say and raise my hand. “Do you think that doctor who patched up Kostya would do the same for me?”
Ivan raises his head to stare at me with wide eyes, then shakes his head and murmurs something in Russian. “We’re going to a hospital. If we don’t, Pakhan will not be pleased.”
“I guess we shouldn’t rattle his cage. Your pakhan has been a bit cranky lately. Let’s go then.”
Ivan snorts and helps me inside the car, and we leave.
Roman
“There has been a shooting, Roman.”
I stare at Dimitri and swear my heart stops beating when the call from earlier flashes through my mind. No. I grab for his throat and bring my face into his.
“Where is my wife?” I sneer through clenched teeth, trying my best to keep myself from breaking his neck.
“We don’t know. Ivan called to say that someone started shooting when they were in the store, and that he is getting her out. That was fifteen minutes ago. I can’t reach him; he hasn’t been answering his phone since.”
“The others?”
“There’s only Ivan. I instructed two of the security team to go with them, but Nina Petrova said she doesn’t want them with her.”
I grind my teeth and squeeze Dimitri’s neck until he starts turning red in the face.
“If there is a single strand of her hair harmed, there will be a lot of dead people,” I bite out. “Starting with my head of security, who sent my wife out with only one man as her security detail. You got that, Dimitri?”
“Yes, Pakhan.”
“Good. Now, get me a fucking car.”
Nina
Three butterfly bandages, a tetanus shot, and a bottle of antibiotics. That’s what I got. Not even stitches. The nurse said I was lucky, and should take more care with washing the glasses next time.
I look up, trying to locate Ivan. Hopefully, he’ll be here soon so we can get back home already.
There is a bang, the door opens, and raised voices come from the direction of the entry hall. I wonder if they are bringing someone seriously injured because the shouting is particularly loud. And then, I hear Roman’s voice roaring.
“Where is my wife?”
Crap. I was hoping we will get back to the house before he found out what happened.
“What’s happening out there?” The nurse, who has been collecting her supplies, murmurs and looks toward the sound of the voices.
“Aah, that would be my husband.” I offer her an innocent smile, jump down from the gurney, and run from the room.
When I reach the reception area, I see Roman towering over a bald middle-aged attendant who is trying to type something on the keyboard. His hands are shaking so badly, he can’t manage to hit the right buttons. The only other person in a ten-foot radius is Dimitri. A couple of other people present are standing next to the wall, keeping a safe distance. Ivan enters from the other hallway only to stop in his tracks upon seeing Roman in a rage.
“Roman?” I say.
His head snaps in my direction and he inhales a big breath while watching me approach. Slowly his gaze travels from my head, down my body, to the tips of my toes peeking out of my heels, and then up again. Only then does he exhale.
He grabs me around the waist and crushes my body to his. “You are never again leaving the house without me,” he whispers in my ear. “Never.”
I want to tell him what nonsense that is, but then change my mind. His body is strangely tense next to mine, and I notice that his hand on my waist is trembling slightly. He is really mad.
“Okay, baby. Sure. Let’s go home, yeah?”
Roman just nods, passes his right crutch to Dimitri, takes my hand, and starts walking toward the exit. I take a look at our joined hands, but quickly look up and focus on the car parked some distance away. My eyes fill with happy tears as I adjust my pace to match Roman’s.
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