Filthy Savage: Chapter 18

The Russians called a meeting, and we accepted. It’s been a while since we’ve had a sit-down with them.

Tynan lowers into the swivel chair at his desk, finishing off his bourbon while we’re waiting for them to walk into the house.

Settled on the sofa, drink in hand, I wonder why the hell they wanted to see us. I’m not in the mood for them or their shit.

“What do you think they want?” Cillian bounces his foot, anxious as fuck.

Probably because he thinks Konstantin will bring up wanting the marriage alliance between our families he’s discussed on more than one occasion. And Cillian knows he’s the only one left. They know better than to think I’ll touch anyone ever again, let alone marry them.

Konstantin wants this, though, and he’s not the kind of man who forgets.

Of course, Cillian wants no part. But he’s not stupid. He knows it’s coming. Eventually.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Tynan sits up straighter as all four of the Marinov brothers step inside.

“Gentlemen, how good it is to see you on this fine day.” Konstantin’s mouth tips up before we greet one another.

“Welcome. Please have a seat.”

They all sink onto the sofa opposite Cillian and me.

“Drink?” Tynan points to the bar at the corner. “We’ve got anything you want.”

“I’ll take whatever you’re drinking,” Aleksei says to me, his eyes almost as dark as his hair.

“Bourbon.” I lift my crystal glass.

“Da, bourbon is good.” His mouth jerks, accent as heavy as the rest of them.

“Yes, for me too. Boys?” Konstantin glances at Anton and Kirill.

“Da.” Kirill’s jaw clenches, the skull and rose tats running up his neck jerking.

“I like vodka.” Anton leans back, folding his arms over his chest.

Tynan tips his head, his eyes connected with mine, and I get to my feet, pouring each one their drink and handing it to them.

“So, why’d you come?” Tynan takes the liquor to his mouth, finishing off the drink.

“Well…” Konstantin chuckles humorlessly. “You see, we have a little problem. Call it a family dispute, if you will.” His sly grin spreads as he scratches his trimmed goatee.

“And what do you need from us?” Cillian asks, intensity branded on his features.

He outstretches his arms across the top of the sofa. “You see, one of my uncles, my father’s brother, he’s not a decent man like us.”

Pretty sure not one of us here is what the world would call decent.

“In fact,” Konstantin goes on, “he wants me and my brothers dead so he can take over the family. You can understand I will never let that happen.”

“Sergey’s brother?” Cillian balls a fist at his side.

“Yes. His name is Leo. Leonard. You know, Dinara’s father.” A knowing smile spreads, and no one can miss the way a breath roughs out of Cillian’s chest at Dinara’s name.

“Don’t worry. My cousin is nothing like him. She took our side, and that is why she lives with me now.” He takes a long, thoughtful pause. “You should probably know, however, that he wants her dead too. For the betrayal, of course.”

“What?” Cillian sucks in a breath. “Has he hurt her?”

“You care?” Konstantin smirks right before thunderous darkness washes over his demeanor.

Cillian’s nostrils flare.

“Of course you do.” He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I take care of her, and I always will.” His eyes narrow, and his gaze holds Cillian’s. “I can promise you that no one will hurt her, and I mean no one.”

The air is thick with his implication.

“So, what do you need from us?” Tynan asks, breaking the stiff tension brewing between Konstantin and our brother.

“We need assurances, of course.” A sly grin emerges on his face. “You know, in case there is a problem and we require more men in the fight with my uncle.”

“So you want our help?” Tynan interrupts.

“Nu da.” He casually flips his hands in the air. “It’s what friends do for one another, no?”

“Sure.” Tynan nods, but he definitely wants nothing to do with this family squabble.

“Good. But there is another urgent issue we must discuss.”

“And that is?” Tynan pours himself another drink.

“We need to decide how we will unite our two families. It would be good for us. You know, just in case.” He huffs a laugh.

What he means is before we find another reason to start a fight between us. A marriage would stop that from happening.

Emily pops into my head. For the fifth time today. The thought of spending the rest of my life with someone who isn’t her is like a bullet to my heart. No fucking way.

I’d rather die alone.

Irritation shoots through my bloodstream, mad as hell at her for leaving. Almost five years wasted.

Then it hits. She’s around twenty-four now. She could be married already.

My chest rattles with tight breaths. Though there’s always a way to take care of that little problem. A robbery gone wrong. Quick and easy. I’d make sure he didn’t suffer. Too much. Only as a favor to her, of course.

Why can’t I get this fucking woman out of my head? I swear I can still smell her shampoo. Feel her skin on mine when I fucked her. Hear the way she called my name when I made her come.

“I already have someone,” I say before I think better of it.

All eyes go to me. My brothers know I mean Emily. They know how consumed I’ve been with finding her. It’s like I see her and hear her everywhere I go. Like she poisoned me and I have no antidote. Not until I find her.

And I will find her. I’ll get her back, no matter how long it takes. No matter how many men I have to kill to do it. Boyfriend. Husband. The fucking Pope. I don’t give a shit. Anyone who gets in my way is already dead.

“Well, then that leaves you, Cillian.” Konstantin’s voice has me snapping out of my delirium.

“I have someone too.” My brother would say anything to get out of this.

A small, dry chuckle escapes from deep in my throat, and that has him glaring at me.

“So you and my cousin…” Konstantin crosses his arms over his chest. “Not interested anymore?” Amusement plays in his tone. “I know you carry a heavy burden with what happened to your mother. But I’m sure with time you can move past it, yes?”

His jaw clenches. “We’re just friends. There’s nothing between us anymore.”

Right. Friends. Pretty sure most people don’t fuck their friends. Though I really wouldn’t call them that. They both pretty much pretend to hate each other.

Or maybe it’s not pretend. I don’t even know anymore. All I do know is my brother finds any excuse to go to the club, sometimes dragging me with him and disappearing as soon as he finds her, while I wait until he’s done.

He can’t help himself. When you want someone that badly, no matter how much you deny it, it’s not easy to let them go.

“Okay.” Konstantin flips his palms in the air. “Then I will find someone else in your family who will be much better suited for her than you, my friend.”

He starts to rise, while Cillian’s eyes flash with ire.

“What the fuck do you mean someone else in the family?” His chest rises with a quick inhale. “Like who?”

Someone’s mad. I laugh to myself.

Konstantin’s mouth quirks up, and Kirill chuckles. “Why do you care? She’s not your problem anymore.”

“Like hell she isn’t,” Cillian mutters, expression growing murderous.

Like I said, the fucker can’t help himself.

Anton shakes his head with a scoff. “You don’t even know what the hell you want, do you?”

“I do know what I want, and it’s not this marriage.”

“Eh.” Konstantin shrugs. “Maybe you’ll change your mind, then.” He casually drops his glass onto the bar top, each brother following suit. “It would be such a shame to miss out on this great opportunity for both of our families, all due to past family bickering.”

“Bickering?” Cillian slowly rises to his feet, nearing him. “That’s what you call what your father did to our mother? Fucking bickering?”

Anton and Kirill immediately take a threatening step toward Cillian until Tynan and I are on guard, coming to surround our brother.

“Now, now, we all need to relax.” Konstantin adjusts his tie, a sinister expression in his eyes. “We wouldn’t want to start something that would end this beautiful relationship we have.”

My palm falls on Cillian’s shoulder, attempting to calm him the hell down before he starts a fight with the Russians that we absolutely do not need.

“We’ll talk about this another day,” Tynan says to Konstantin while approaching each Marinov and shaking their hands.

“I look forward to it. Have a wonderful day, gentlemen.” He nods a farewell to me and Cillian, and they’re all finally out of the room.

Once I shut the door, I face my brother. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

His fingers flex, anger weaving through his irises as he connects his eyes with mine. “I’m the only sane one around here. After what they did to our mother, I will never tie myself to that family.”

“You need to understand…” Tynan returns to his seat. “You don’t have a choice. We need this to happen. We need an alliance with them so what happened with Mom never happens again.”

Cillian snickers. “You’re nuts if you think I’ll go through with it.”

“All you’ve gotta tell him is you want Dinara, and he’ll make it happen.” My smirk only infuriates him. “You know you still want her.”

“I don’t,” he snaps. “I don’t want any one of them. Understand?”

“So you’re okay going to their club, but marriage is off the table?” Tynan shakes his head.

“That’s right.” He drops two fists across Tynan’s desk as he leans in, his rage consuming him. “Marrying into their family means we’re connected for life. If we have children, that’s even worse. Don’t you fucking get it? How the hell do you think Mom would feel knowing her grandchild is someone related to the motherfucker who burned her alive?”

Tynan closes his eyes for a moment before he slants forward, meeting Cillian with an equally deadly stare. “She’d understand. She was resilient. Strong. You need to see the bigger picture.”

“Fuck you, man. I told you my decision. Find someone else in the family. A distant cousin. I don’t give a fuck who it is. But not me.”

He straightens his back and turns toward the door.

As he starts for the exit, Tynan says, “You can’t escape this, Cillian. It’s gonna happen.”

“Yeah, watch me.”

Then he’s out the door, muttering a curse as he disappears from view.

“Talk to him,” Tynan tells me. “Make him understand.”

“Come on. You know him. He’s stubborn.”

Hard laughter slips free. “Aren’t we all?”