War (Romanian Mob Chronicles Book 5) (17 page)

T
wo Days
Later

M
ilan

T
here was
a quiet knock at the bedroom door, and before I could stop my heart from lifting, the joy, elation at the thought it might be him had it soaring.

Only to come crashing down as quickly as it had risen, then lifting again, if only a little. The roller coaster of emotion should have been dizzying, but I was used to it by now.

He had made himself clear, and in the two days since we had spoken last, there had been nothing to change that. Though I knew him to be a man of his word, I couldn’t make myself believe him. Wishful thinking, perhaps, that same irrational faith that had pulled me deeper and deeper into all of this. I couldn’t say what it was that wouldn’t let me believe, but I didn’t.

Because that same feeling I’d had when I’d first glimpsed him, the one that had only grown stronger, was still with me now. And that feeling had never steered me wrong, had never let me down, and I had to trust it wouldn’t now.

Cold, methodical Priest might have made a decision, but Nikolai was in there somewhere, and he would come for me. I just had to wait.

Not that doing so was easy, especially in the face of so little evidence. I’d replayed our conversation in my head, examined my memory of every expression for some hint that maybe he would come to his senses. I hadn’t remembered one, and he’d given me nothing else. I hadn’t seen him, heard him since that conversation. Which should have been impossible, even in a home of this size, given there were only two of us here.

But he had managed to avoid me completely.

I didn’t know whether I was more sad or pissed off about that.

He’d just come in, completely changed my life, made me love him, and now he was leaving.

It didn’t seem fair; it
wasn’t
fair. But when had life ever been?

I understood what he thought he was doing. He wanted to protect me, do what was best for me, when the only thing I needed was him.

He couldn’t see that, though, and I wouldn’t try to convince him. It would be a waste of my breath and a blow to my pride I couldn’t withstand.

Which meant it was time for me to move on. I knew that, but what I didn’t know was how, where? I had nothing now. No Tiffany, no Priest, nothing. From that nothing, I would have to begin anew.

I sat down, my energy fleeing in the wake of what seemed an impossible task.

I stayed on the dainty settee for I don’t know how long, lost in mourning but resolved that I would do just that, resolved that I would rebuild.

A knock at the door pulled me out of the ever-deepening pit of despair that threatened to swallow me.

“Come in,” I said, my voice weary even to my own ears.

The door opened slowly, and I wasn’t at all surprised when Senna walked in.

“You’ll be leaving soon,” she said.

“Looks that way,” I replied glumly.

“Maxim said I should go with you, see you off,” she said.

“Maxim said?” I repeated skeptically.

She gave a shy smile. “I suggested it. He didn’t say no.”

I laughed. “That sounds more like it.”

After that first conversation, I hadn’t actually spoken to Maxim again. He hadn’t even looked in my direction, so I was doubtful he cared what happened to me.

But Senna did, and her extension of kindness was what I needed at this moment, some proof, however small, I wasn’t completely alone in the world.

I’d lost a lot in the last week, but I’d gained a new friend.

“Thanks, Se,” I said, smiling at her.

She nodded curtly. “Have you decided where you want to go?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Gotta consider the options, see where I can go,” I finally said.

“You can go anywhere,” she said.

“I don’t know if I have ‘anywhere’ kind of money, Senna, and definitely not the kind I need to start all over again somewhere new with no support,” I replied.

“It will be taken care of,” she said with supreme confidence. “So just pick. Go somewhere and start over,” she said.

I watched Senna, searching for some sign she was anything other than completely certain, but I didn’t see any.

“You make it sound so simple,” I said, managing—just barely—to not throw myself against the settee. Though I felt childish, angry, and wanted to lash out, I wouldn’t, especially not to someone who had been so kind to me.

She smiled. “I’ve rarely had a chance to say this, but it is as simple as that for you, Milan,” she said.

“And it’s not for you?” I asked, finally giving voice, at least in a roundabout way, to one of the questions I had about her.

But when I looked at her, I knew she would not be more forthcoming.

She just smiled. “I’m about as interesting as the carpet, Milan, and besides, this is about you. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

She smiled brighter. “Dream. Think of somewhere you’ve always wanted to go, a place you never thought you’d have a chance to. Maybe Milan?” she said.

“Ha-ha, Senna. Never heard that one before. Besides, I’m more of a Venice girl,” I said.

She nodded and clapped her hands. “That would be great!”

“I was joking, Senna,” I said, sagging against the couch, this conversation, the idea that what we were speaking about might come to fruition, exhausting me.

“Why not, at least to start? You can go there for a bit, figure out what your plan is. It’s beautiful this time of year,” she said.

“Venice,” I said, looking at Senna.

“It’s possible if you want it,” she said.

“Did I tell you I had a sister named Venice?”

Senna’s face didn’t change, but she said, “I’m sorry.”

“What, did Maxim do some kind of background check?” I asked, suspicious now.

“Your sister, she passed on?” Senna said.

She had very deliberately avoided answering my question, which, I supposed, was an answer in itself.

“Yeah. She did. We always said we’d do a tour. Maybe I can do it myself,” I said.

“That would be lovely. I’ll make the arrangements,” she said.

Then, after she patted my hand softly, she left.

I was going to Venice, a place I had only dreamed of.

Now I dreaded the very thought of it, dreaded the thought of going anywhere he wasn’t.

At least I’d have Senna to see me off. As silly as it was, especially after all that had happened, I would be glad for her company. The idea of getting on a plane and flying to a new country all by myself was scary.

But though Senna would see me off, she’d leave, and then I’d be alone.

Fitting, I finally decided.

The Milan I had been was gone, and now I’d have to learn how to be this new one.

And I’d have to do it by myself.

P
riest

“
Y
ou came
to check in on my health, Maxim?” I asked when he walked into the office I had taken after my own.

“No. Senna came to see after your companion. I accompanied her,” he said.

“You weren’t worried about me?”

“No,” he said, meeting my eyes.

That got a grudging smile, though he didn’t seem to notice, or rather, care.

“You’re on the mend. I take it you’ll be on your way soon,” he said a moment later.

“Do you want that?” I asked, wondering if Maxim had reached the end of his unexpected patience.

Maxim turned always cold eyes on me. “I don’t care either way.”

“But?” I asked.

“There’s work for you if you want it,” he said.

The irony of my situation was not lost on me. I’d spent years separating myself from the Syndicate, something I could still hardly believe Maxim had allowed. But he had, and I’d made my own way. Was I ready to come back into the fold?

“I’ve been on my own for a long time, Maxim. I’m not so good at taking orders anymore.”

“Which is the only reason I’m offering. I wouldn’t have to babysit you and would have time to focus my attention on other concerns,” he said.

The Syndicate was a lot for one man to manage, even Maxim. Though he hadn’t spelled it out, he was offering what could be a golden opportunity, a chance to operate with freedom but with the Syndicate’s backing. That backing would give me the resources I’d need to keep Milan safe, might make it possible for us to be together.

“I’ll consider it,” I said. I truly needed to consider this, try to find the flaw in this too-good-to-be-true offer.

Years ago, I would have never dreamed of saying such a thing, and Maxim wouldn’t have accepted it, so I was surprised by his response.

“Give me your answer in a couple of days,” he said.

“Why are you being so charitable, Maxim?” I asked.

“I’m not,” he said.

Then he left, and I was again alone.

I heard movement outside, and stayed, cloistered, hiding.

I couldn’t face her.

It was hard enough knowing she was here, but seeing her would be my undoing. She thought I was noble, selfless, but if I saw her again, I would prove once and for all I wasn’t. Because I would try to take back the words I’d said, try to find a way for us to be together, and that would be the cruelest, most selfish thing I could do.

About ten minutes after Maxim left, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in, Senna,” I said. It had been a long time since I’d seen her, but she hadn’t changed, at least on the outside, and though we’d been close, Senna was one of the few people I’d never fully understood.

“How did you know it was me?” she said when she opened the door.

“Maxim doesn’t knock,” I said.

She closed the door behind her. “Does Milan?” she asked.

I glared at her, but she ignored me.

“You’re going with her?” I finally asked skeptically.

“Just to see her off. Do you want to know where she’s going?”

“Don’t tell me,” I said. I couldn’t know where she was, because if I did, I might eventually give in to the temptation to go after her, I wanted to give in to that temptation now. I couldn’t, though, because if I even entertained the thought, I wouldn’t be able to resist it.

“You’re really going to let her leave, even though you love her?” Senna asked.

“It’s for the best,” I said. The words were right, logical, but they rang hollow, no matter how true they were.

She let out a laugh, but one bitter, devoid of humor. “I bet you never asked her what she thought was best,” Senna said.

No, I hadn’t, but I hadn’t needed to. Whatever Milan thought, whatever she felt, I had known what I was doing was best, still knew it was best despite the tiny seeds of doubt springing up in my thoughts.

Senna went quiet and walked toward the door. She reached for it but then stopped.

“Her plane leaves in two days,” she said.

M
ilan

“
I
s this the plane
?” I asked, looking at the man I now knew was Adrian, one of Maxim’s associates and, as best I could tell, though I’d never actually seen them in a room together, a friend of Senna’s.

He nodded but didn’t speak, and it was only then that I realized I had never heard him say anything, except when he’d had his gun to my head.

I’d only caught glimpses of him after that, but without Senna here, the trepidation he created without even seeming to try came back full force.

It was that discomfort that moved me onto the plane, skeptical though I was about its origins. I’d expected a commercial flight, and this was not commercial. Still, getting onto this plane or spending time with Adrian was an easy choice.

Even without the gun to the back of my head, he was still very intimidating, and I was happy to be out of his presence.

I quickly ascended the short steps onto the plane and paused, ready to step out. This certainly couldn’t be it. When Senna had told me she’d see me off, I thought she’d ride with me to the airport, but she was nowhere to be found.

This couldn’t be right.

I should have gotten her phone number, but I had neglected to do so and now had no way to contact anyone. I felt silly, hovering in the doorway, and I still had no desire to actually engage Adrian, so I made my way into the plane, letting my fingers trail on the soft leather of the seats.

I sat, and then waited for someone to come inside and tell me I was in the wrong place, but nothing of the sort happened.

There was nothing for me to do, so I sat and waited.

And waited some more.

I didn’t have a watch but it felt like nearly a half hour had passed. When I looked out the window I saw Adrian still standing, staring, and decided to continue to wait. I’d only talk to him if it was a last resort, and it wasn’t like I had anywhere to be.

I must have spaced out, because when I turned at the sound of someone entering the plane, I fully expected to see Senna.

But it wasn’t her. It was Priest.

“Why are you here?” I asked, ignoring the stutter of my heart at the sight of him.

“Because I don’t have another choice.”

“Did Maxim send you or something?”

“No. He didn’t,” he said, his expression almost soft.

“Then why are you here?” I asked. I hoped I knew the reason, but I wouldn’t let that hope overtake my reason, or overtake it any more than it had already.

Instead of answering, he came closer, but I didn’t look at him and tried to pretend I didn’t want to. He’d said all he needed to, and today was the day I began my life again. I wouldn’t start that new life by dreaming of him, begin it in mourning of what I’d lost and not what I’d prayed I would gain.

“Milan, I’m not Nikolai,” he said.

I glared at him. Hateful, scornful words designed to lash out at him formed in my mind, words designed to hurt him as his utter rejection of the man I’d believed him to be hurt me. But I couldn’t make them come out. Instead, I said the thing that was most pressing in my thoughts.

“Did I ever know who that was?” I said.

It was silly, my entire life was a shambles but that was the question that came to me. I needed the answer, though, needed to know if I had been wrong about him, foolishly trusting myself when myself had led me so astray.

“You’re the only one who ever has, and you think I’m really him,” he said.

“You think you’re not,” I replied.

He watched me, something like remorse on his face. He quickly covered that look, though the expression that was left was open, pretty much as open as I could ever recall him being.

“I’m not, Milan. I’m Priest,” he said.

“You sound sure,” I said, still not wanting to accept it, but his words were making that belief almost impossible to cling to.

“I am sure,” he said. “I’m him.”

I looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with him when my heart was on the verge of shattering. A neat trick my heart was pulling, aided by him. I’d thought it already broken, shattered to minuscule pieces, but he was proving that even those pieces could be ground even further, smashed until they were nothing but dust.

“Thanks for coming all this way to tell me that,” I said. “It really wasn’t necessary, though. I think your absence said enough.”

“And what did it say?” he asked.

Rage almost had me looking at him, my emotions, the hurt, the heartache ramping up to something that approached uncontrollable rage.

Common sense kept my gaze squarely out of the window. Even Adrian, terrifying as he was, was a better alternative.

“Milan,” he said after I remained quiet.

“What?” I snapped, not bothering to try to temper the anger in my words. He didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve my restraint.

He also didn’t deserve my tears, but those were coming freely now, beyond my ability to control them. Staying grounded in my skin was hard enough. I didn’t have the strength to attempt to maintain my composure, to try to hold on to the scraps of dignity he had left me.

“What’s your story, Milan?”

“I need to spell it out to you?” I said.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Fine. You had a moment. Some part of you took pity on me, or maybe you were just bored. I can imagine that any job gets tedious. You went on a little lark with me as we tried to evade a murderous member of law enforcement, and in the meantime, you decided to try on a new persona. Or an old one, maybe. I guess that part doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I, ignorant ass that I am, let myself believe you were something you weren’t. Created the noble Nikolai from nothing other than my desperate desire for him to be true.

“You tried him on, didn’t like him, and decided to be the old you. I got a broken heart and a trip to Venice out of the deal.”

I waited, still not looking at him as tears fell from my eyes.

“Almost right,” he said. “Out there, with everyone else, I’m Priest. But with you, I’m different. I’m Nikolai. And I want that. I want you,” he said.

I’d wanted those words, dreamed of them, but now my emotions were a jumbled mess inside my chest. Words left me, and there was only emotion now, joy that threatened to send me toward him while fear and self-preservation kept me grounded.

I paused, searched his face for something, and used the time to center myself for what would be the most important conversation of my life.

“You told me he didn’t exist. You had a change of heart,” I said, my voice as confused and tortured as my emotions but at least working.

“I wanted to, but more than anything, I want to be with you. You remember when you told me you trusted your gut?” he asked.

I nodded, stupid hope rising in my chest.

“That’s what I’m doing here. I’m trusting my gut and yours, and it tells me I should be with you,” he said.

“Priest…” I started, then cut off. “Nikolai…”

He must have heard the wariness in my voice, the desperate need to want to believe him, and the worry I couldn’t take it if he tried to kill my hope again. Worry that he couldn’t be my Nikolai.

“I’m him, Milan,” he said, his eyes on mine, deep, dark, sparkling with emotion. “And I love you. I’ve never loved anyone, Milan, but I love you.”

Everything I had believed in my understanding of the world had changed, but the thing that had never led me wrong, the thing that had guided me, told me he was the one I was meant to be with. He truly was my Nikolai.

So I would, as I always had, trust in that. Give my heart fully to him and trust that it, that he wouldn’t let me down.

“I love you, Nikolai,” I said.

I went to him, kissed him.

And as he kissed me back, pulling me tightly to him, I knew that no matter where we were, as long as we were together, I had a home with him forever.

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