Sasha: Chapter 11

Montréal in September was a pretty sight. Until I found myself seated across the table from the old Russo. The fucker was a pathetic excuse for a father.

He just buried his wife and here he was talking about fucking other women. I couldn’t even imagine how pissed off Alessio was. He hid it all better than any other man I knew. I heard about the stunt his father pulled. Cassio said he flew home to bury his father and the old fucker was alive and well. It was his mother who died.

Jesus Christ!

The old Russo was a fucking bastard with the blackest soul. He belonged in hell, right along with my mother.

A vein throbbed in my neck, the need to lunge across the table and stab him in his ugly eyes clawing at me. Or fuck the eyes. It should be plunged directly into his black heart and ugly soul. Anger brimmed inside me, sending a rush of heat through me.

I didn’t need to turn Vasili’s way to know he kept flashing a warning look my way. He knew my feelings on the old Russo, but he didn’t want to fuck up the deal with Alessio. If only the old fucker would get out of the goddamned way.

“This is the fastest way for shipments to get into the States,” the old man bragged. “Why should we give you a break?”

“Hardly a break,” Vasili answered calmly. “You’re making a thirty percent profit.”

“We accept your deal,” Alessio cut in. I liked the guy. He was a bit dry and a tad bit insane underneath his polished suit. I remember what he’d done the day of Mia’s burial when he beat his father into the ground. Truthfully, I kind of enjoyed the show. The only regret was that he didn’t murder him right there and then.

The door chimed, signaling another customer coming in search of food.

I flicked a gaze across the restaurant and spotted her.

Three years.

Three goddamn years of stalking her from the shadows and using technology. She continued her self-defense classes. She finished her studies and was ready for the world.

She definitely wasn’t ready for me.

As she stood there, chatting with a girlfriend, my blood ran hotter. The annoying feeling every time I remembered the promise I made to Vasili rushed over me. Son of a bitch. She was even more beautiful. Her body was fucking centerfold-worthy. Just her presence in the same fucking city burned through my skin and straight to my dick.

The sun hit her hair, her auburn brown strands falling down her back. It was thick and wavy. And long. So fucking long that I could wrap it around my fist twice. I watched as she smoothed her palms over her short, red dress, chatting to her friend and smiling happily.

“Daughter,” Branka’s father called out, and I watched Branka’s shoulders stiffen. She slowly turned around, her expression pale as she warily eyed her father. For that, I wanted to strangle the old man right now. “They don’t need a table, Jasmine.” Branka’s father barked, drawing everyone’s attention to us. “They’ll sit with us.”

The day was looking slightly brighter, although I didn’t want her sitting at the same table as her sick father. She still hadn’t noticed me nor my brother. Each step brought her closer to me, but her eyes remained on her father, every so often flickering to her brother.

She trusted her brother to always protect her. But I protected her too. Always. Until my last breath.

Alessio stood up, his eyes on… Branka’s friend. Interesting. I stood up too.

Branka’s eyes traveled to my brother, her eyebrows furrowing. Then her gaze landed on me and recognition flickered in those gray eyes. It was the only thing she shared with her brother. Her gray eyes. Although, I was inclined to think, her eyes were prettier than her brother’s.

Branka’s eyes darted to her friend and then returned to me.

“Ladies, meet Vasili and Sasha Nikolaev,” Alessio introduced us. Branka’s eyes widened and her lips parted. It would seem the girl knew my reputation. “Gentlemen, my sister, Branka Russo and her best friend Autumn Corbin.”

“Nice to meet you,” I drawled, my eyes traveling to Autumn Corbin, then back to Branka. “I didn’t realize the ladies would be joining us.”

There were only two available seats. One seated next to me and the other next to Alessio. The two women watched the fucking seat next to Alessio longingly. A sardonic breath left me.

So I pulled out the seat next to me, my eyes on Branka and not giving her a choice. If she refused, it would bring attention to herself. I waited for her to lower herself into the chair, but her gaze kept sliding to the empty chair next to her brother.

“Is our discussion appropriate for the ladies?” Vasili asked, his brows furrowed. “I wouldn’t want my sister to be troubled with such topics.”

“We can go.” Branka quickly volunteered. The girl wanted to be as far away from me as possible.

“You’ll both stay,” her father demanded.

Her friend gulped and Branka’s shoulders slumped.

“Sit down, Branka,” her father barked. “You too, Autumn.”

They both startled and immediately lowered themselves into the seats. Red anger slithered through me at her father’s tone. My palm itched. The need to retrieve my blade and stab it through his heart was as intense as the need to take my next breath.

“Ne.” No. One word by my brother but it only fed this fury boiling inside me. The fact that the old fucker was egging on, and tormenting, Alessio’s woman ignited the anger even more. I tuned out the old man’s conversation or I’d kill him right here, in the middle of the restaurant.

My ears buzzed, the anger was strong enough to burn my throat, my chest, and marred my vision with a red mist. The old man was oblivious, but the tension at the table was like fingernails against a chalkboard.

I threw gum into my mouth with a grin while the need to beat the old Russo’s face into the table clawed at me. I’d bet all my money that Alessio wanted to put a bullet into his father’s brain even more than I did. The old fucker was really digging Branka’s friend. He kept blabbing about Branka’s friend and her connection to Blanchet’s family.

Corsican mafia.

Jesus Christ. A small fucking world.

But that was of no concern to me. By the way Alessio watched Autumn Corbin, he’d keep that girl protected.

I popped the gum as I crushed the wrapper in my hand, imagining it was the old Russo’s neck I was squeezing.

Leaning back, I rested a forearm on the table and focused my gaze on the pretty brunette that was adamant about not looking my way. If I had to guess, Branka was tuning out the conversation too. She sat still, her gaze distant, focused on a spot somewhere above her father’s head.

Mia had shared some of the shit she saw thanks to her father. Truthfully, she shouldn’t have been allowed to join the army. She was mentally fragile, and after years of endless torment by her father, it only took one incident, though an awful one, to push her over the edge.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Alessio typing a message on his cell.

I popped another bubble, earning myself an Oscar for my performance and the cool façade I maintained.

Her father shot up and left the table without a parting word, scurrying off. By the smug expression on Alessio’s face, I’d wager he set it up so his father would get the fuck out of here.

“Fucking finally,” I said coldly. “You should have that asshole eliminated. I can help with it.”

“I agree,” Branka muttered under her breath. “Let the Russian take the blame.” Everyone’s heads snapped her way. I grinned, watching her eyes widen realizing she spoke the words out loud. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Just give me a date and time,” I uttered smiling, watching her calculatingly. “And it’s done.”

“I can handle my father,” Alessio claimed.

“Can Autumn and I go to the bar?” Branka quickly jumped at the opportunity to get away. From me.

Her brother nodded and the two women scurried away, like the devil was on their tail. Maybe we were devils and they were innocent angels. Just waiting to be corrupted.

“I can have him gone today,” I repeated my offer now that the women were gone. “Like your gorgeous little sister pointed out, the Russians will be to blame. All you have to do is give me your little sister,” I deadpanned, a grin on my face.

“Sasha,” Vasili warned.

“Let me make one thing clear,” Alessio gritted. “My little sister is not on the table. Never will be. SHE. IS. OFF. LIMITS. And if I have to kill you to make that point, I will.”

Challenge accepted, motherfucker.

I made a promise to my big brother that I’d keep my distance. But that didn’t mean I’d do it indefinitely. Once her old man was dead, I’d go into full-blown conquer mode.

Because Branka was mine. There was nowhere she could go where I wouldn’t eventually find her.