Russian Enforcers Box Set 1 (Books 1-3) Read online

  “Not if you have to die for me to live, Vitaly.”

  “What do you care what happens to me?” he returned brusquely.

  “I care.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but then he saw that three pairs of eyes were studying him intently, and he closed it again, then finally settled for, “Just forget about me, Joanna. As you said, you’re better off without me.”

  And before she could respond, he disconnected the call and shoved the phone into his pocket.

  “You love her, don’t you?” said Yana, supporting her chin on her arms.

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh, I think it does,” spoke up Tatyana from the other bed. “If Vitaly Loganov can fall in love, there’s hope for the rest of us.” With these words, she turned her striking eyes on Ruslan, who instantly blushed darkly. When she suddenly grabbed him by the shirtfront and drew him in for a kiss, he blushed even more, and in spite of the predicament he was in, Vitaly shared a grin with Yana.

  At least some love stories had a happy ending, he thought. Too bad it wasn’t his own.

  Suddenly, his phone chimed again, and when the name ‘Bogdan’ flashed on the display, he knew that the moment of truth had finally arrived. To win or lose all, now he would know.

  CHAPTER 26

  “No more, Vitaly. No more.”

  “This is the last one, Bogdan. The last favor. After this…” he didn’t finish the sentence, its meaning clear.

  “I can’t allow you to go through with this.”

  Vitaly was surprised at the harsh tone of his friend’s voice. “What do you mean? Didn’t you talk to Yury? What did he say?”

  “No, I didn’t talk to Yury. Of course I didn’t. You know exactly what he would say.”

  “Yes. He would agree to my terms. Or else.”

  “You know it’s not as simple as that, Vitaly. You of all people should know Yury’s position where the girls are concerned.”

  Vitaly frowned. What was Bogdan talking about? Yury loved his daughters. He would never allow them to come into harm’s way. “I don’t understand,” he grunted, drawing his fingers through his dark mane.

  “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

  “Yes, Bogdan,” he growled. “Yes, you need to spell it out to me, cause you’re not making fucking sense.”

  He heard the other man expel a curse on the other end, and knew he was in for a surprise, and not a pleasant one at that. “Yury has rearranged all his businesses. I don’t know how—it must have cost him a fortune in legal fees, not to mention weeks and weeks of administrative hell, but he did manage.”

  His blood ran cold as his eyes raked across the girls, gazing up at him with expressions of curiosity. “You don’t mean—“

  “That’s exactly what I mean. Vitaly, he managed to remove both Yana and Tatyana from his business structure and his will. Whatever happens to them, it won’t affect him now.”

  “But why? Why would he do that?” Even as he voiced the question, he knew the answer, and it frightened the hell out of him.

  “I think he’s been planning to have them both eliminated, Vitaly. That’s the only answer I can think of.”

  He closed his eyes as the finality of Yury’s decision came home to him. The man had decided to close his heart completely, shutting out the daughters that were never his from his life. Now he understood better why he’d killed Spartak. Not to punish him for putting Yana’s life at risk, but simply for falling in love with the girl in the first place. He’d replaced Spartak with Viktor, a man notoriously vicious and cruel. A man who would slit Yana’s throat in a heartbeat, whereas Spartak would have protected her against Yury—would have gladly laid down his own life to save hers.

  “This is a nightmare,” he muttered.

  “Yes, it is, Vitaly. And as far as I can tell? You just dealt him the best hand. Now he can eliminate the girls and frame you in the process.”

  Vitaly quickly walked over to the window and looked out, scanning the street outside the hotel. Nothing. Not yet, at least. Any moment now, Yury’s men would be here, ready to murder them all. Yana’s guards at the hospital would have informed him about what happened, even if Bogdan hadn’t.

  Then, just as he was about to let the drapes slide back, a lone figure crossing the street caught his eye. God, no, he groaned inwardly as he watched Joanna approach the hotel.

  “Bogdan, you shouldn’t have let her out of your sight,” he muttered into the phone.

  “No way to stop her, Vitaly. You know how she is better than anyone.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, disconnecting the phone. He should never have implicated Bogdan. Instead, he should have dealt with Yury directly, then Joanna would never have known until it was all over.

  Now? They would all die. Unless…

  Curtly, he barked his orders to his three friends. Supported by her sister, Yana walked over to the door while he and Ruslan quickly conferred.

  “If we get out now, we still have a chance,” the young man agreed. “But only if we hurry. When they come, they’ll come in numbers, and we’ll be outnumbered and outgunned thirty to one.”

  Agreeing with his assessment, Vitaly joined the others out in the corridor just when the elevator dinged, and Joanna stepped out.

  “Vitaly!” she cried, and hurried toward him, clasping her hands around his neck and pressing her lips to his before he could stop her. Flabbergasted by so much affection, he was floored, then flooded with a relief so great he lifted her clear from the floor and grasped her to him with such force she let out a squeal of mirth.

  “I’ve been such an idiot,” she murmured, holding his face in her hands. “Can you forgive me, Vitaly?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” he managed.

  “I love you, Vitaly,” she breathed earnestly, and his breath caught, and for a moment he thought his heart stopped beating.

  “I love you, Joanna,” he spoke seriously. “And it’s not safe for you to be here.”

  “Neither is it safe for you.”

  “It’s not safe for any of us,” a voice piped up behind them, and when Vitaly turned, Joanna still clasped in his arms, he gazed into three smiling faces.

  “When you two lovebirds are done billing and cooing, perhaps we can get the hell out of here?” suggested Tatyana, always the most outspoken of the girls.

  “I think that might be a great idea,” agreed Yana, her eyes misty as she watched Vitaly’s happiness unfold.

  Hurrying down the corridor, they’d reached the fire door and swung it open in seconds flat, and as Ruslan lowered himself down the fire escape, keeping a keen eye on Tatyana, Vitaly thought everything might work out fine, after all, the happy end now finally within their grasp.

  But then a shout rang out into the night, and when he looked down, he saw three dozen men waiting for them down below in the hotel parking lot, prominent among them Yury himself, his face a mask of rage and his lips twisted into a malevolent slash.

  CHAPTER 27

  This won’t end well.

  It was the first thought that crossed Joanna’s mind as her eyes fell on the posse down below, Yury’s men huddled around their leader, the man himself as cocky and hateful as always. He’d slicked his hair back with grease and was donning a long leather overcoat, a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose. He looked like a character escaped from any bad gangster movie she’d ever seen.

  As soon as they stepped out onto the fire escape platform, Vitaly barked an order for retreat. Alas, Yury’s men had now taken up position in the corridor they’d just vacated as well. Glancing back, she saw these men, too, meant business, their guns loosely in their hands, their faces serious and expressions unyielding.

  They were trapped.

  “So what are you going to do, Yury?” hurled Vitaly at his former boss. “Kill us all? How are you going to explain that to the police?”

  “I have no intention of killing anyone, Vitaly,” Yury returned. He spread his arms wide.
“As you well know, I’m a most peaceful man, always ready to do right by anyone.” He smirked, then pointed at his two girls. “You didn’t think I would hurt my own flesh and blood now, did you, Vitaly?”

  “We’re not your flesh and blood, you creep!” yelled Yana tempestuously, and Yury’s smile vanished. “I hate you! And after what you did to Spartak, I hate you even more!”

  “Me, too,” murmured Tatyana, who seemed unnerved by the display of guns at her feet. Joanna noticed her gripping Ruslan’s hand tightly, the latter trying to keep a brave face.

  “What nonsense!” yelled Yury. “Of course you’re my girls.” He wagged his finger. “Someone’s been feeding you a lot of nonsense, honey. Don’t listen to Vitaly. He’s just a spiteful old dog. He will dish up any lie to convince you I’m the villain in this story.”

  “That’s because you are,” stated Vitaly calmly. “Yana’s right. You’re not their father. Bogdan Travnikov is. That’s why you had their mother killed.”

  Yury laughed a shrill laugh, looking around at his men, who were now displaying expressions of bewilderment and confusion. “That’s not true! Alyona died in an accident. Everybody knows that.”

  Both Tatyana and Yana were now staring at Vitaly with expressions of horrified shock. He turned to them. “I’m sorry I never told you this before, but it’s true. Your mother was a wonderful woman, and Yury had her killed out of spite. Because he discovered she had an affair with Bogdan.”

  “Nonsense!” came Yury’s shrill voice from down below. “A pack of lies! I loved my wife—your mother!”

  “No, you didn’t,” stated Yana, tears now glistening in her eyes. “Just like you never cared for us, either.”

  Yury was fuming now, and he stomped the parking lot ground with his foot to give vent to his frustration. “It does not matter!” He gestured wildly at his men. “Just grab them already!”

  The men simply stood and stared at their boss, their silence deafening.

  “What are you morons just standing there for? Take them, you idiots!”

  One of the men glanced up at Vitaly. It was the same beefy guy who’d saved their necks before. The one with the bald tattooed head they called Boris. “Is this true, Vitaly? Did you kill Alyona?”

  “No, I did not,” called out Vitaly, his voice echoing through the parking lot. “But Viktor did. Killed her with his own hands.”

  Boris bowed his head, his face working. “I liked Alyona. She was kind to me.”

  Some of the other men, the older ones who’d known Yury’s wife, bobbed their heads in acknowledgment, while the younger members seemed uncertain how to respond to these signs of mutiny in the ranks.

  “What does it matter!” shrieked Yury, berserk now. “What does it matter what happened to the stupid bitch? She betrayed me. Me! With that fat fuck Bogdan Travnikov.”

  Boris now turned to Yury, a vicious glint in his eyes. “You know I’ve been a loyal soldier all this time, Yury, but now you’ve gone too far. First Spartak, then Vitaly, and now Alyona?”

  “You’re out of line, Boris!” yelled Yury. And in one fluid motion, he reached for his own gun and raised it at the beefy thug.

  Before Joanna’s horrified gaze, a shot rang out in the darkness of the parking lot, and she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to cope with the events unfolding at her feet. Then she felt Vitaly’s fingers enclosing her own, and his touch gave her the power to open her eyes again, and face what was happening. To her surprise, it wasn’t Boris who lay sprawled out on the asphalt, but Yury himself, his opponent still holding the smoking gun, aimed at the lifeless figure of the Russian hood.

  One of the other men deferentially walked up to the mobster, and stirred him with his foot, then reached down and took the gun from his hand and tossed it away. Then he knelt down and placed his hand on the slain man’s neck and felt around for a pulse. Finally, he gazed up at the other men and shook his head.

  The monster they’d known as Yury Abraskamov was dead.

  Next to her, Tatyana burst out into sobs, the tension of the last few minutes finally getting to her, and she broke down into Ruslan’s arms, the latter appearing more than grateful to come to the young woman’s aid.

  Yana, stone-faced, didn’t shed a tear as she gazed down at the corpse of the man she’d always believed was her father. She’d loved Spartak, Joanna now realized, and nothing could bring that good man back from the dead, not even the demise of his vile executioner.

  Vitaly’s hand squeezed her own, and she silently said a few words in prayer for Yury’s black soul. Even though she wondered if the gangster had had a soul, she nevertheless hoped he would finally repent and perhaps even find absolution in the afterlife, or wherever the hell he was.

  She leaned in against Vitaly’s chest and let out a stertorous breath. Only now did she notice she’d stiffened every muscle in her body, and was grateful for Vitaly’s arm around her shoulder and the warmth of his embrace.

  He tenderly kissed the top of her head. “It’s over,” he murmured. “It’s finally over.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “So. If there’s a God, he’ll kick the beast straight back to hell. And if there’s a devil, he will welcome Yury with open arms.”

  Vitaly raised his glass and touched it to Bogdan’s. “I’ll drink to that.”

  “And if there’s justice in this country, he will clean Lincoln of all dope pushers, human traffickers and racketeers in one fell swoop,” Joanna added thoughtfully, casually petting Ram, who was resting on her lap.

  Bogdan’s eyes narrowed. As he fell into the category she’d just described, he didn’t seem keen on the image her wish conjured up. Being the good sport he was, though, he still lifted his glass and this time clinked it against Joanna’s.

  They were seated in Bogdan’s opulent and colorfully prettified living room. After saying goodbye to their neighbors—and new owners—Tatyana and Yana, they’d returned indoors. While Bogdan said he had some business to attend to, Vitaly and Joanna had discussed the suspenseful events of the night.

  Joanna still seemed pretty shaken up, Vitaly had determined, and when Bogdan had returned, he’d quickly prescribed her a healthy dose of vodka to steady her frayed nerves, and had supplied himself and Vitaly with the same panacea.

  “I don’t think eradicating crime will ever be a fait accompli,” Bogdan posited after downing his third medicinal dram. “As long as there are vices, there will be people accommodating those vices.” He gestured at himself. “Take me, for instance. I was an honorable businessman when I first came to this country. I even joined the chamber of commerce, filed all the right documents, aligned myself with the mores and habits of the local business community. And did I make a single cent of profit? No, sir.” He shook his head disgustedly. “None of the other business leaders allowed me to muscle in on their territory. That’s why Yury and I finally decided to take a walk on the wild side, as the saying goes.”

  Joanna wasn’t really interested in Bogdan’s reminiscences of his criminal past. All she wanted now was to withdraw upstairs and fall asleep in Vitaly’s arms, safe in the knowledge that when she woke up to welcome a new day, he would still be there, and she would find that the world had turned a little brighter and a little safer, her future now linked firmly with Vitaly’s.

  As she eyed him across the table, he darted a longing glance in her direction, and she knew he felt equally eager to rid himself of Bogdan’s company and excuse himself for the night.

  But then Bogdan made a remark that jerked her attention back to the present.

  “So it only stands to reason that I would ask of you to do me this one favor, old friend,” Bogdan was saying, his eyes drooping a little and his words slurring but his mind still as sharp as a tack.

  Vitaly frowned. “What favor?”

  “Well, seeing as I will be obliged to take over Yury’s business now that my former frenemy has found it in his heart to move on, I will need someone to captain my newly acquired troops.”

  “Wh
at troops? What are you talking about?”

  Bogdan smiled and placed his hand on Vitaly’s shoulder in an amiable gesture. “Come, come, Vitaly. You know the expression. One man’s demise is another man’s fortune. Already Yury’s men have applied for a position on my team. At the last count, I now have practically all of those lost souls on my payroll. All I need now is someone to lead them into battle, and there’s only one man fit for the job, and that’s you.”

  Vitaly was shaking his head, and Joanna’s heart constricted. Oh, God, no. Bogdan couldn’t possibly consider hiring Vitaly as his enforcer?

  “Don’t say no now, Vitaly,” rejoined Bogdan. “Consider my offer carefully. I’m offering you the chance of a lifetime. You won’t be merely an employee to me, you would become my partner. Share in the exploits. Fifty fifty. Is that a good deal or what?”

  He gleefully swallowed the remainder of his drink, and Joanna saw she had misjudged the man. He wasn’t that jolly guy, after all. Like Yury, he was a crook. A more humane crook, perhaps, but a crook nonetheless. She just hoped Vitaly would see through him the way she now had. Vitaly’s next words gave her hope.

  “Why don’t you just leave well enough alone, Bogdan? Yury’s gone.”

  “But his business hasn’t. And if I don’t take over, somebody else will. Already Zharykhin has been muscling in, eager to become Lincoln’s biggest supplier. Yury’s gambling houses, his dope operation, his prostitution racket. They’re all ripe for the taking with the big man gone.” He spread his arms, his smile wide and his bearded face beaming. “It’s Christmas, buddy, and I’m keeping all the goodies for myself. No charity!”

  “What about the girls? You need to do right by them.”

  “Oh, I will. Of course I will. They are, after all, Yury’s heirs and nominally in charge of the whole empire he left behind. I already talked to them, and they have no interest in running it, however. Glad to leave it all to Uncle Bogdan.” He chuckled. “Some day they may call me father yet, but for now I’ll gladly accept the endearment.” He clapped Vitaly on the shoulder again, but the latter remained stoic, then finally shook his head curtly and rose to his feet.