I don't know, Jozef signed. Annoyance crossed Shaun's features. "You'll include me in a conversation like that?" she waved her arm around the table. "But you won't tell me the details." Jozef reached for her, dragging her onto his lap as he sank back into the booth. He wedged Shaun between him and the table, turning her so she was facing him, but his hands were free. I don't know the details of the package, Jozef clarified. According to Radik's original request, the contents of the package are to remain anonymous. If Radik's enemies were to find out what it's worth, they would stop at nothing to get hold of it. "Do you think it's dangerous, like a bomb or something?" Concern edged her voice. Jozef debated with himself. Tell her the truth or leave her in the dark where she was less likely to worry over him. He was elated by her genuine concern for his safety, but she would need to reconcile herself to his job. He didn't walk dogs for a living. Among
Word travelled fast between the two Koba households and the next day Shaun and Fatima were invited to lunch with Dasha and Leeza. Jozef reluctantly gave his permission for the women to leave, though he was unhappy that he couldn't accompany them. Shaun wanted to ask what he was doing that he couldn't come, but hesitated. It was that line between his work and her feelings toward what he did for a living. She wasn't ready to cross it yet. Shaun changed into a cream skirt suit with a rose-coloured blouse underneath a jacket and a matching scarf wrapped around her tightly pinned hair. She added a pair of heels and looked herself over in the mirror. Conservative but stylish. Not her usual, but she didn't want to cause waves. The brief time she'd spent with the Kobas had taught her enough about fashion that she knew how to dress correctly for a luncheon with Dasha. Fatima was another story. When Shaun showed up at her mother's apartment with Karl in tow, Fatima took on
The days passed quickly and Shaun settled into an uneasy pattern. Even though she spent a good portion of her time alone keeping up to date with professional journals and medical advances, she often found herself restless. It helped to have her mother near-by. She spent a good portion of her days in Fatima's apartment, Fitzy twirling around her feet as she took the stairs to her mother's apartment. The cat seemed to look forward to their daily trips downstairs as much as Shaun did. Fatima always had a snack waiting for both of them. Fatima had settled into her new life much more easily than her daughter, spending Jozef's money as though she'd been born for online shopping. "Which one do you think I should buy?" she asked, turning the computer screen toward Shaun. "I rather like the Monet, but the Van Gogh is more expensive." Shaun choked on her laughter. "Since when do you like classic artwork?" "Since I visited the Koba mansion and realized my own collect
Jozef's revelation was a turning point in Shaun's thinking toward him and the life he led. If he was willing to put so much effort into understanding the things that Shaun loved and had worked so hard to achieve, then she could bend enough to try to understand his world. It had taken some convincing, but she'd finally talked Karl into spending some time with her in the apartment. He was the only mobster on the premises she saw on a regular basis who was somewhat friendly toward her. Except for Jozef, of course, and he was too busy to help her. "Would you like coffee or tea?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Karl, who stood in her living room looking like he was about to be shot for the infraction of spending time alone with the boss's woman. Shaun had cleared it with Jozef first. She hadn't told him exactly why she wanted to spend time with Karl, just assured him that her intentions were entirely innocent. She'd been surprised when the usually hyper-poss
"I don't like this," Shaun repeated, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She was watching Jozef fill a hiker's backpack with his necessities: jeans, T-shirts, socks, underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, razor, Tylenol. It seemed so normal, the things he was putting in the pack. The same sort of things any traveler might pack. She assumed he would pick up his weapons and bulletproof vest from the operations center, two floors beneath theirs. She didn't know what else to say so she kept saying the same thing. She didn't like it; didn't like that he was leaving her alone in a city that wasn't home to her yet. Leaving her vulnerable. She didn't like that he was placing himself in danger by going to one of the scariest places on the planet. Didn't like that he was doing it for money. Didn't like that he would likely have to use violence to stay safe. The whole idea of willingly walking into a potentially violent situation seemed absurd. Only adrenaline junk
Mogadishu had never been one of Jozef's favourite places. It was hot and smelled like mildew and dirt. The red zone, where they were currently hiding out, smelled like shit too, from improper sewage disposal in that part of the city. They had to be constantly vigilant so as not to get caught up in the ongoing violence between sectors. The poverty was nearly overwhelming. Ordinarily poverty in a region he was travelling through wouldn't bother Jozef. He'd travelled the world, seen poverty of every kind. Now, he was looking at it through Shaun's eyes. Everywhere he looked he saw starving children, women prostituting themselves to feed their families, injustice. "Ali, go get us something to eat," Cooper said from his cot, where he was laying with his hands twined behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "I'm fucking sick of rations." "Why me?" Ali demanded. Cooper pushed himself up to stare down the smaller tech guy. "You're the only one of us who can
Jozef had been gone for one week, and so far, it was one of the most nerve-wracking weeks of Shaun's life. There was something especially terrifying knowing that the man she loved had walked willingly into a war zone to do something dangerous. The more she thought about it the angrier she felt. He was doing it for money! Was there a worse reason to do something so stupidly reckless? Shaun knew she was overreacting, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She was also experiencing a particularly vicious bout of PMS, probably because she wasn't sleeping or eating properly. She was laying on the couch with a hot water bottle pressed against her belly, Fitzy curled against the small of her back, watching the news. An explosion in Mogadishu had taken out one of their free clinics. The Doctors Without Borders organization had lost three people: two nurses and a doctor. Twelve Somalians had died in the blast and countless others had been injured. The scenes depicted on the telev
Karl was the first to leap to his feet. "Everyone up, follow me." Though his words were spoken calmly, he seemed tense. He pulled his gun from the holster that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his belt. Saskia dragged her purse close and Shaun realized the younger woman probably had a gun tucked inside. "What's happening?" Fatima asked, alarmed. "Probably nothing," Karl said reassuringly. "Maybe something," Saskia piped up. "Where's the panic room?" "Here," Karl said, ushering the three women into Jozef and Shaun's bedroom. Fatima scooped up Fitzy and carried him. Shaun clutched her hot water bottle and obediently followed Karl. Her mouth fell open in surprise when he escorted them through her huge closet and opened a panel at the back. She hadn't noticed it before as it blended into the wall. He punched in a code and the back of the closet disappeared as a door swung open. "You didn't tell me you had one of these," Fatima
Jozef sat in the window of his hut, looking out at the incredible cerulean blue of the ocean beyond. When Shaun had found out that Jozef had never spent time near the ocean, except briefly when he was on mission, she'd insisted they choose an oceanside setting for their honeymoon. It had been four months since Jozef had murdered his aunt, and he still thought about that moment. Her confessions, her reaction to his being there. He felt intense anger when he thought of her killing his parents and her attacks on Shaun, but time had given him a better perspective. She'd grown up in the mafia. She'd been highly intelligent and motivated. Like Jozef, like his uncle, like the best in the business. Perhaps if she'd been born a man, given her own organization to play god with, she might have channeled her abilities into better use. Her death made him think long and hard about himself. He wasn't much different. He killed too. She used death and destruction to manipulate w
Saskia loved everything about school. She loved the books, she loved her laptop, she loved taking notes, she even loved exams. When Jozef deemed it safe enough for her to return to the University, she'd immediately registered for her winter classes. It took some cajoling to get into a few of them, given her late attendance, but she managed a full course load. Saskia loved university and opted to spend more time on campus than off. She ate in the cafeteria, she studied all over the place, wherever she could find a sunny nook. She spent time in the library almost every day, soaking in the atmosphere. It was the university that made her return to Prague bearable. The shining goal of finishing her linguistics degree. As a child she had grown up with tutors, only attending classes with other students in her two years of boarding school. That had been different from the university. The students were similar age and background, and class sizes were limited to a handful
Dasha woke with a start, the clicking of heels on the tiles of the hospital floor reminding her of muffled gunshots. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her pounding heart. Slowly, painfully, she sat up, reaching for the water on her nightstand. The process was made awkward by her other hand being cuffed to the bed. She'd been transferred the day before. She'd waited as long as she could manage before finally giving away her condition. She'd been in so much pain, the poison twisting her guts; the fever raging through her that she'd raved with hallucinations. Screamed obscenities at the prison staff as they strapped her to a gurney and moved her. She took long sips of water, pulling it through the paper straw. It felt like heaven against a throat raw from days of vomiting. Her hand shook as she set the water down. Collapsing against the pillows, she forced herself to stay awake, to keep alert. She was here for a reason. Someone had poisoned her. Not some
Your mother is here, Jozef signed, crouching next to the bed. Shaun looked at him, tears bright in her eyes. She hadn't stopped crying in almost two days. She tried to tell herself to snap out of it, to stop feeling sorry for herself. But she couldn't. Of everything that had happened to her in the past few years, this felt the worst. It was the final straw. She couldn't take anymore. "I don't want to see her." Jozef frowned, thunderclouds growing in his eyes. You turned her away yesterday, which we allowed since you need time to heal, but you will not turn her away today. You need your mother, and you will see her. He was the epitome of patience when it came to Shaun and her feelings, but he wasn't going to allow Shaun to push her mother away. She could already see it on his face. He thought she needed her mother, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. She pushed herself up on the bed, feeling dizzy and nauseous. She hadn't left the bed si
"Krystoff..." He moved closer to the bed. Dasha squinted against the harsh glaring light, but he still looked like nothing more than a shadow, frustratingly insubstantial. She knew it was him, though. She knew his shape, his scent, his touch... She'd poisoned him. More than once. She hadn't regretted it at the time, but she regretted it now. She worshipped him. She shouldn't have manipulated his love. Soon she would be with him again, and she would have to explain her actions and hope he could forgive her. Dasha had poisoned her first victim when she was five years old. Miss Anya. She'd hated her nursemaid. The woman was sour, dour, and no fun at all. She insisted Dasha wear dresses and always have her hair brushed. She was never allowed out if the weather was bad, and she was always made to complete her studies. If she didn't learn her letters, then she would get a sharp smack across the knuckles. Dasha had overheard her mot
Jozef didn't know what to do. It was a strange sensation for him. He always knew what to do, but this time he was out of his element. He crouched next to Shaun's chair, holding her hands in his as she sobbed. He hated every tear that crawled down her face. He was usually the one to cause her tears, but this time, it wasn't him. It was the doctor who'd disappeared discreetly from the room. They were in the fertility clinic where Shaun had gotten her referral. They'd been called to the clinic for the results of their first round of testing. Her tears dripped onto his hands where they were clasping hers. He bowed his own head, blinking back his own tears. Her heart was breaking, and he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't kill the thing without hurting the woman he loved more than anyone or anything in the world. He couldn't kill PCOS. Polycystic ovary syndrome. Shaun was infertile and the diagnosis was destroying her. He would have to take go
Nikolay had a bad feeling. He'd had it for months, but when no one accused him of betraying Jozef, he'd shoved the feeling aside. They didn't know. He was safe. Then why did he feel like the sword of Damocles was hanging over his head, awaiting the right moment to drop? "Saskia." He'd been standing in the shadows outside her suite, waiting for her to appear. She was coming down the hall toward him, her blue headphones wrapped around her neck, her wild brown hair a messy halo around her head. She wore tight ripped jeans, a black hoodie and running shoes. It hit him that she was really quite beautiful in her own way. He'd never found her particularly attractive when they'd dated. She was too wild and headstrong, and he preferred his women compliant. Submissive. Not words one could use in association with Saskia Koba. Yet, in this moment, with the light of the sun behind her, she looked ethereal. He felt a moment of loss, but quickly shook it away. His
Fatima giggled at Shaun's description of a drunk Jozef. "He must've been a bear the next morning," Fatima mused. "It seems so out of character for him to overindulge." Shaun laughed and sipped the rich burgundy liquid from her wine glass. "He was certainly growling like a bear. It took a lot of convincing before he would let me take care of him, but I finally got some painkillers and toast into him and he turned back into a human. Later, he told me he rarely drank that much and didn't plan on ever doing it again." "Famous last words." "Yes," Shaun agreed. "Though Jozef is usually pretty responsible. I think it was the excitement of meeting with the other Vor for the first time. I wonder if the other wives discovered drunk husbands in their rooms that night?" Shaun was filling her mother in on the details of her trip to Russia with Jozef. The five days spent at the palace were indeed the vacation Jozef had suggested they would be. Except for evening m
Shaun sucked in a breath as images from that day slammed through her. She had worked with her counsellor on mitigating their impact, but when the head of the Vor told her she was meant to be dead, it was like a fresh wound being ripped open again. "So I've been told," she murmured, bringing her teacup to her lips with a shaking hand. "You survived." He didn't sound either approving or disapproving, and Shaun wondered where the direction of the conversation was going. "You were poisoned, and you survived. You were attacked, stabbed, and you survived. Your husband was attacked, many within the building fell, yet you still survived." A chill ran through Shaun and she felt nauseous. She desperately wished she'd told Jozef where she was going. Was Ivan angry over the deaths that seemed to follow Shaun? Did he blame her for what happened to Krystoff? She didn't know what to say to Ivan, but he'd paused, seeming to expect some kind of response. "Yes, I survived."