"Can I sit here?" Jozef glanced up and nodded, closing his laptop and setting it in the empty seat on his other side. They'd made it out of South Sudan as easily as they'd made their way in. Their trip through Somalia back to Mogadishu had been similarly without difficulty. Jozef had worried that Ayaan wouldn't be able to keep up with him and his team during the terrain trek part of their journey, but she'd proved herself as fit and capable as his men. When a patrol had passed on the road beneath their position, she had been one of the first to take cover, automatically reaching for a weapon. When she remembered she didn't have one, she'd dropped her hand. Jozef had been watching her like a hawk and had noticed her unusual action. She was clearly trained in combat. Once they'd made their way back into Mogadishu, they'd checked in at their safe house, repacked their equipment and headed to the jet for their flight. They'd been in the air for two hours and
It was 4 AM by the time Jozef arrived back at his apartment. He'd told his men to get some sleep and report back to work at 2 PM for debrief and mission report. They wouldn't have a lot of time to sleep, but in Jozef's experience, debrief needed to happen very shortly after each mission so there were no forgotten details. The smallest of inconsistencies could lead to a failure in communication, which could lead to a death in the field. Jozef's men were the best for a reason. They were quick, sharp and mission-ready at all times. This included the intelligence that followed each mission. Along with the rest of his men, Jozef dropped his gear in the storage room of their offices. They checked in all tech and weapons then left to get some rest. Jozef made his way up to his floor on the elevator, saying goodbye to the men who piled out on the fourth floor. His elite team had apartments in the building, on the same floor as Shaun's mother, while the rest resided offsite.
"I've seen that man before..." Shaun trailed off as she stared after the man who'd abruptly turned away and left the bustling Christmas market. Karl glared after the man. "When?" Shaun racked her brain until she came up with the answer. "Here, in Prague, a year ago. I saw him watching me when Havel came to my hotel to talk to me, right before I left for Canada. I pegged him for law enforcement." "Good eye," Karl grunted. "He's Interpol." Shaun gaped at the place where the man had been standing. "How do you know?" Karl looked at her. "We have eyes on everyone who thinks they have eyes on our boy." "Jozef?" Karl nodded. "Interpol is interested because Jozef often crosses international lines when on the job. While our officials are corrupt as hell and unwilling to pin anything on Jozef, especially after the chaos he caused in prison, Interpol would love to get their hands on him. Charge him for some of the shit he's done while out of count
Relief rushed through Shaun. It was stupid. She really shouldn't be in any danger sharing a meal with Dasha. Jozef had allowed Shaun to go to the women's luncheon at the mansion several weeks earlier. At the time, Shaun had been surrounded by bodyguards and it was unlikely that the Kobas would attack in their own home, if their intention was to harm Shaun. She wondered if she was being paranoid, then shrugged the thought away. She was mafia now, or at least mafia affiliated. She had to be paranoid. It was how she was going to survive. With that in mind, Shaun excused herself and stood to walk to the washroom. She would waste a few minutes in there so she wouldn't have to eat or drink anything before Jozef arrived. Karl moved to follow her, but Shaun shook her head, placing her hand on his arm. "I'll just be a minute. I'll be fine, promise." He seemed to agree that Shaun couldn't get into much trouble in the washroom by herself. He remained by the table, speaking
Dasha fell back, surprise written across her face. She looked down at her arm, watching as the blood flowed down the limb like a fountain. She dropped to her knees and then fell to her side as shock crippled her. Shaun dropped the knife and flung herself at Dasha. "You stupid idiot!" she snapped as she assessed the other woman's injury. She would have seconds to act if she wanted to stop Dasha from bleeding out. Without hesitation, Shaun gripped the jagged edge of Dasha's sweater where it had been cut. She tore it wide open, drawing a scream from Dasha; the first sound the woman had made since attacking Shaun. Shaun looked around but there was nothing within immediate reach that would help her. She needed something to tie around Dasha's upper arm to cut off the flow of blood pumping from her heart and out through the wound. Her belt! She reached down and undid the buckle, dragging the belt through the loops. She swiftly fitted it over Dash
Nikolay stood in the doorway of his bedroom watching his roommate fuck the woman they'd brought home. He was naked, bathed in the lights of the city coming through the windows. He held a joint in one hand, rolled with a combination of tobacco and bhang. While he smoked, he lazily stroked his semi-hard dick. Sharing women was a common activity they participated in together and they'd banged this particular one a few times. She was a mediocre fuck, but the real treat was in doing fucked up depraved things to such a perfect little princess. Giselle threw her head back and shouted as Halil took her ass. Nikolay couldn't tell if she was screaming in pain or ecstasy, but she wasn't begging Halil to stop. She was taking it like the good girl she pretended to be. Nikolay wondered if he had a thing for messing up pretty little girls who pretended innocence but got on their knees and allowed him to do his worst. Saskia had been a virgin when he got to her. It had
Krystoff hated hospitals. More than the average gangster hated them. He despised the smell, the arrogant bustling of doctors and nurses, the pathetic patients coughing and sneezing in the waiting room. He avoided them to the point of absurdity, once electing to pay a steep price to have a surgery in the comfort of his own home. None of these things were in his mind as he rushed through the doors of the Prague General University Hospital. He only had one thought in his head: Dasha. His wife had been transported by ambulance to the hospital, her life hanging in the balance. He still didn't have positive confirmation of her survival. His understanding from a frantic call made by the ma"tre d' of his restaurant, was that Dasha had been attacked in the washroom and left for dead. He'd confirmed that she was brought to the hospital and immediately rushed out to his car. He drove himself, not wanting to wait on his men to organize themselves. His heart was in his throa
Jozef paced back and forth, never stepping further than a few feet away from Shaun. She was laid out on their couch, Jozef's private doctor tending to her wounds. Jozef didn't take his eyes off her as he catalogued every wince, every tear, every sob. Had he made a mistake in bringing her home? He'd learned from a young age that when he or his men were wounded, they would retreat to home territory where they could get patched up in the safety of their own organization. Jozef had automatically brought Shaun home, where he could defend her if necessary. Shaun was different though. She should be in a hospital, surrounded by people she trusted to take care of her. Jozef stopped pacing and stood next to her. She tilted her chin and looked at him. He felt her hooded golden stare right down to his soul. He reached out and used his knuckles to brush away the tears that spilled freely down her cheeks. She was in pain and shock. "Jozef..." she whispered an
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."