Dancing for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 3) (36 page)

“What about a dress?” Kiska asks.

“Let me handle the appointment for that,” Emiliya says with a smile spreading on her lips. “We’ll go to Beverly Hills,” she announces.

“This is all too much,” I mutter as tears gather in my eyes.

“You’ve been through hell, let us take care of you. You’re one of us, Tatyana. We’re a family,” Haleigh says, wrapping her arm around me and guiding me to the sofa.

“Thank you,” I whisper, trying to control my emotions.

“Saturday evening, your wedding will be spectacular,” Sonia announces as she walks back into the room.

“They could do it that fast?” I ask, blinking.

“For a price, anything can happen, darling girl,” Sonia grins.

“But…”

“Kirill has plenty of money, do not worry yourself,” she says, waving it off as if spending god only knows how much on this wedding is no big deal.

Then planning ensues. Emiliya calls and is able to get us into the dress shop the next morning. Haleigh goes online to find a bakery for a cake, and Sonia plans out every last detail throughout the day. The wedding is going to be simple, classic, and elegant.

The centerpieces will be tall, skinny, silver vases with a giant ball of soft pink, white, and cream roses, and strands of rhinestones draped from them. They sound simply beautiful.

Sonia has a talent for organization, and I can’t believe how much she has accomplished in just a few hours, in a city where she doesn’t know anybody.

“It’s going to be beautiful. Now, all we need is a photographer and an officiant,” she grins.

“We have a cake testing Tuesday evening around five,” Haleigh announces as she chases after her little girl.

“Cake testing?” I ask in surprise.

“Money buys urgency,” Sonia smiles as she pats my thigh.

I’m exhausted by lunch and take that as my cue to rest. The house is full of women and children, laughter and love all around me, yet I feel unsettled. Maybe it is because Kirill is gone on some mission, something I know that is dangerous.

“Can I lay down with you, mom?” Kiska asks after I excuse myself and walk into my bedroom.

“Always, my Kiska girl,” I smile.

Kiska has her e-reader in hand, and together we curl up in my bed. The bed I now share with her father. I haven’t talked with her much about my accident or how she’s doing. It seems as though everything in our lives has been on warp speed since Kirill came barreling into it.

“How are you doing, my girl?” I ask as she rests her head on my chest. I play with her pretty dark hair, hoping that it sooths her. It definitely soothes me.

“I was so scared, but papa and Grandpa told me you would be okay,” she whispers into the room.

“And see, they were right,” I say.

“I know, but it was scary,” she admits.

“It was very scary. I’m so sorry you had to see me like that,” I murmur into her hair.

“I’m happy now. You and papa are going to be married,” she says as she grins and turns to face me.

“I’m glad you’re happy about that. I am, too,” I smile.

We don’t say anything else, we just take joy in being near each other.

It was Kiska and me for so many years, and the past few months, we haven’t had nearly enough time alone with each other. I am relishing this moment, knowing that soon she’ll be too old to cuddle with her mom.

I fall asleep with my girl in my arms and I dream of my lover—
my Kirill
.

The motorcycle’s clubhouse parking area is completely full. Motorcycles and SUV’s fill every square inch of empty space. We all file out of our cars and head to the front door of the clubhouse.

I recognize the man standing next to the door as Sniper. He looks past me and straight to Sergei. I watch as Sergei nods and then blows me away with what he tells the club member.

“Your family. You have uncles in the Ukraine. I thought Lukin was a familiar name, and it is. They’re in the organization. Your father was as well, but not high ranking. In fact, he ran when he was going to be imprisoned for one of his crimes. A coward, disowned by his brothers of blood and of the organization,” Sergei announces.

“He is still very much a coward, and a drunk,” Sniper shrugs.

“This is the number to your uncle Vlad. He’s very interested in hearing from you, as he didn’t know you existed. I have told him of your father, and of your many accomplishments—both on the battlefield and with your organization,” Sergei informs him.

“Uh, thanks,” Sniper grunts.

“Your uncle Vlad and your other three uncles are good men, Bates. They would be good allies to have, and come with large families,” Sergei offers. He then walks away to leave Sniper alone with his thoughts.

“Vlad Lukin. He’s a good man. I’ve known him many years,” Radimir interjects. Sniper gives him a jerky nod.

The conversation is dropped and we all file into the clubhouse, Sniper on our heels. At a round table in the middle of the room is
MadDog,
along with a younger version of himself to his left—his son.

Sergei, Radimir, and I sit down at the table across from them. Maxim and Ziven sit directly behind us, and the rest of our men behind them. There are even more soldiers right outside of the building, they’ve arrived early with more still to come.

“You Russians don’t fuck around,”
MadDog
murmurs after he shakes my hand in a greeting.

“I want these fuckers gone,” I grunt.

“Clearly,” he says before he smiles. “So how shall we proceed?” he asks.

Together, we devise a plan.
MadDog
shows me a map of the area. All of my men and the bulk of his will surround the area before we strike. No survivors and no prisoners. I’m done.

“Where’s your headache, Green?”
MadDog
asks.

“Get him,” I growl to Ziven.

A few minutes later, Ziven throws a bound Ex-Federal Agent Green on the floor at
MadDog’s
feet. He’s crying—
actual
tears.

“So this is the guy who has been causing issues for a decade? Looks like a pussy,”
MadDog
chuckles with a shrug.

“He is that,” I nod. “He’s been in contact with
Cartel
this entire time,” I say.

“What’s your contact’s name?”
MadDog
asks, kicking him in the stomach.

“
Juan Zamora
,” he cries out. His ribs probably hurt like hell, since I broke every single one of them a couple days ago.

“He’ll be there. My contact is
Eddie Hernandez
, but Juan is higher up,”
MadDog
explains.

“How high up are the men that are going to be here?” I ask.

I want to hit these fuckers where it hurts. I’m under no illusion that they’ll just disappear, two more leaders will pop up in their place, but I want them to think twice about fucking with me or my organization ever again.

“Several Capos, a couple lieutenants, and their low level
falcons
for protection, I’m sure,”
MadDog
grumbles.

“No hitmen and no
El Jefe
?” I ask about their version of a
Pakhan
, a boss, arching a brow.

“Probably not,” he answers.

“Originally, I wanted to make them hurt, but I want this done quickly. What if we captured the Capos and had the others executed quickly, by surprise,” I offer.

“By snipers?”
MadDog
asks.

“I have several
Torpedos
here today, and I’m sure you have some men who are good shots?” I ask, looking directly at Sniper. I’ve seen his record. It’s amazing.

“How are we going to do that without causing mayhem?”
MadDog
asks.

“All at once,” Sniper rumbles.

“Yep. All of the men pick a member of the
Cartel
and they all pull the trigger at the same time. Then my soldiers will simultaneously take down the Capos for capture,” I instruct.

“I like the way you work,”
MadDog
chuckles.

We finalize our plans and then we breathe easy. This task is almost complete. I call in the rest of my men, and together, as a united group, we tell them how everything is going to go and what to expect. With a firm plan in place, we spend the rest of the evening relaxing. No party and no drinking. We all have to be on our game for what’s to come.

Once we’re back at our hotel, I decide to call Tati. I don’t bother calling her cellphone, as I’ve deactivated it and haven’t replaced it as of yet. I wasn’t planning on leaving her side so soon; being away from her is making me nervous. I call the house and Sonia answers.

“Sonia, this is Kirill, is Tatyana available?” I ask as I empty my pockets onto the hotel’s nightstand.

“She’s resting,” Sonia says quietly.

“Is she okay? Does she need to get back to the doctor?” I ask, my heart pounding in sheer panic.

“No, I think all of the wedding talk and excitement just wore her out. Everything is happening quickly, and it was too much,” she says.

“What else?” I ask, pursing my lips.

“Nothing, really. She’s just tired.” I don’t believe her, but I don’t push it. If it were something necessary, she’d tell me.

“Where’s the wedding, then?” I ask, trying to dig information out of her.

“The Roosevelt Hotel on Hollywood Boulevard.” I cough out a choke.

“How much is this going to set me back?” I ask.

It’s not that I don’t have the money, or that I even mind spending it. It just surprises me and catches me off guard. My original plans were to have the reception in one of my restaurants, a night’s loss of profit, but I’m sure nothing close to what the Roosevelt is going to charge me.

“You never gave a budget, Kirill, and you have five women holed up and planning,” Sonia says, her feathers obviously ruffled.

“I don’t care about the price, Sonia, but I would like to know how much I am going to pay for one day,” I chuckle.

“The ballroom, including the food, will probably be around eighty thousand dollars,” she says nonchalantly. I cough and I put my hand over my heart, afraid that it will stop beating.

“That’s a new car, Sonia,” I scold.

“It is not. You have a car worth over a million dollars in your garage. Don’t give me any shit, Kirill. You’ve been waiting ten years to marry this woman. She’s the mother of your child and she almost died. She gets everything,” she growls.

“Okay, okay Sonia. She gets everything. Now, can you also go down to
Cartier
and buy my
krushka
a wedding ring? I don’t know if I will be back in time. I know you will find something fitting for the woman who shares my life.”

“Of course,” she agrees.

“I’ll call ahead. How about tomorrow morning? I’ll have a man drive you,” I offer.

Sonia compliments my taste and tells me she’s happy I didn’t chose
Tiffany’s
. She says although they’re classic,
Cartier
will have what she’s looking for. It’s as if she’s had this planned.

I smile to myself after I hang up the phone, thinking about how Sonia will most likely make the salesman piss his pants in fear. She knows what she wants and goes for it, such a strong woman, as she needs to be, being the wife of Pasha.

“Your wife is a shark,” I offer Pasha as I join him for dinner a few hours later.

“This I know. What did she do to you?” he asks, taking a sip from his tumbler of vodka.

“She’s taking control of the wedding planning. I hope this shit with the
Cartel
pans out. I’m going to need the flow of income to return,” I chuckle as Maxim, Yakov, Radimir and Ziven join our table.

“She has been wanting to plan a wedding since Maxim and Haleigh were married. It’s killing her that her children won’t settle down,” he says, shaking his head.

“Well, she’ll have fun tomorrow, then. I am sending her to
Cartier
to pick out an engagement ring,” I murmur, pouring my own glass of vodka.

“You do realize you’ve just put yourself in debt, right? Sonia will assuredly pick out the most expensive piece in the store,” Pasha grumbles.

“As Sonia so reminded me, Tati deserves the best, so money is no object,” I shrug. Pasha chuckles.

“Spoken like a man in love,” Pasha says.

Maxim and Radimir grumble their agreements and together we enjoy our meal.

Tomorrow we will be victorious, but that does not mean that I’m not worried. I am confident, but shit can take quick turns in this line of work. One wrong move, a few seconds of delay could ruin the whole fucking plan. I just hope that we all work as one big team, at least for this mission.

I finish my dinner and go to bed. We’re all somber and mentally preparing for tomorrow.

Preparing for war.