Keep: Romanian Mob Chronicles (3 page)

V
asile

I
narrowed
my eyes at her, taking in the stubborn tilt of her chin, the spark of intensity that flashed in her eyes, the first sign of fight I’d seen in her.

“Why?” I asked, assessing her.

“He won’t let me go. Not ever.”

The resignation and certainty with which she spoke were more tragic than the implication of the words. Bare of makeup, her eyelids not weighted by lashes, she looked younger, prettier, the fresh-faced innocence I’d glimpsed last night on full display now. As were the shadows that haunted her amber-brown eyes. Whatever she faced with Ashmore was worse than being with me, a person she didn’t know and one she likely didn’t want to. And fuck if for some crazy reason I wanted her to stay.

“I am Vasile Petran. You are welcome here.”

A faint smile curved her lips and the shadows in her eyes lifted. She was mine now. I wondered what I would do with her.

V
asile

“The purpose of
that meeting was to reassure the other clans, not mess things up worse,” Priest said later that day.

I’d gone to Familie, the bar and restaurant that also was the base of Clan Petran operations. Priest had arrived before me, and now he stood, deceptively casual in his stance, his face betraying nothing of what he thought. Was he expressing genuine concern or testing me to see how I would respond to his meddling? With Priest, one could never tell, a fact that had served him well and made him the rarest of our community, one who had connections to everyone but formal ties to no one.

“Are you telling me how to run my business, Priest?” I asked, deciding that whatever his intention, I would not be questioned, not by him or anyone else.

“I wouldn’t, but more than your business is at stake here,” he said. “Ashmore washes for your clan and four others, the Peruvians, the Sicilians, and the street gangs. If things are bad with him, things are bad with the money, and people die when things are bad with the money.”

“Our arrangement stands,” I said. “We’ll send one hundred thousand per week, just as we always have.”

Priest blinked rapidly, which was about as lively as he got. “So that simple, eh? That woman you stole doesn’t matter?”

“I didn’t steal her. He offered, tried to give her to me. I accepted,” I said, allowing myself a grim smile, the memory of last night sparking anger anew. The woman—Fawn—shouldn’t have been with that
porcine
in the first place.

“He tells a different story.”

“Did he call you to complain, convince you to try to talk some sense into me?”

Priest laughed then, the sound surprisingly genuine. “I wouldn’t waste my time trying to talk sense into a Petran. But remember how deep the ties between your families run. Your father worked with his—”

“My father is dead. His father is in jail. The decision is mine to make now,” I said flatly.

“Why go to all this trouble for some whore?”

“Watch your tongue, Priest,” I said, voice low, menacing.

I couldn’t say why, but I didn’t like him talking about Fawn that way. It reminded me of how Ashmore had treated her and made me want to forget my obligations and go make him regret doing so. That desire should have unnerved me, but it didn’t, and I didn’t have time to question why.

“No offense, Vasile. I’m only asking,” he said.

“I don’t answer to you, Priest,” I responded.

“No you don’t, but if this gets out of hand, you will have to answer to much worse,” he said.

“So be it,” I said.

“God, you Petrans. So stubborn.”

I let out a quick smile and then turned serious. “And this is my opportunity,” I said.

“How?”

“You think I don’t hear the whispers, don’t know how their minds work? They are itching to try me, see if I’m as tough as my father. And if I back down now, you know it won’t be long until someone else tries to take advantage.”

Priest nodded.

“So forget the other clans, the Peruvians, the Sicilians, the street gangs, Ashmore. I’m keeping her.”

V
asile

A
s I did most days
, I’d stayed at Familie to handle business and later that afternoon, I sat in the private back room where Clan Petran met. Natasha Florescu walked toward me, drawing the appreciative gazes of the men who watched wherever she went. I understood why; her long black hair, slim yet shapely figure, flawless features, and wide blue eyes made her an attention-grabbing package. And that she was clan, the daughter of a respected soldier, one who had ultimately died rather than snitch, only enhanced her appeal.

When she reached me, she settled atop my lap, the small curves of her ass pressing against my knee. She also didn’t mind using her looks and status to take liberties that others wouldn’t be allowed, something I wasn’t in the mood to indulge today, at least not too much.

“Whatever will you do with your new toy?” she asked.

It wasn’t at all surprising that she, and everyone else in the room probably, knew what had happened just hours ago. I gave her a lot of leeway out of respect to her father, but not even Natasha’s looks, nor her ties to my brother gave her the freedom to test me so.

“Natasha…” I said, letting the warning hang.

Her little smile dropped, but she recovered quickly, laying a hand on my chest. “Vasile, you know I worry about you,” she said.

“Don’t. And get off me,” I said, dismissing her.

“Some men would pay a fortune, give their lives for the pleasure of me sitting on their lap,” she said, eyes sparkling, completely undeterred and instead tossed a huge smile, one that had broken more hearts than she could probably count.

“I’m not some men,” I said, and I wasn’t. But I wasn’t dead either, and recognized Natasha’s beauty. In the past, I had respected her father and my brother too much to go there, and today, I couldn’t shake the thought of how Fawn would feel this close to me, how her fuller curves would fill my arms, and I needed to keep those thoughts at bay.

I’d kept my voice flat, my gaze on hers, and with a final slight nod, she stood.

“Wait for me. I have something for you to do,” I said.

“Fine,” she said.

Then she walked away, her heels clicking against the wood floor. I usually paid such things no attention, but watching Natasha again reminded me of Fawn, of how she’d managed to move so gracefully on those high heels. Natasha paused momentarily and tossed a mysterious smile at my brother as he entered and then continued.

“
Salut, frate
,” Sorin said as he came to stand in front of me, giving me a somewhat formal greeting, though his expression showed the underlying depth of our relationship.

“You seem in a good mood,” I said.

“I had a good night’s work,” he said, and then he sat next to me and waved a hundred dollar bill at the waitress, who soon returned with a single glass and full bottle.

His smile spread from ear to ear and after quickly tossing back his first shot, he poured another. It didn’t take much to get Sorin in a good mood, but I’d have to get details later, when we were alone and on safer ground. I turned toward him, catching the grin that still covered his face.

“Did Priest try to talk you out of it?” Sorin asked.

“Sorin, you speak in riddles and I have no energy to translate,” I said. My voice was harsh, but my brother knew there were no teeth behind it. He was many things, many bad things, but he was my brother, and I would never let anything come between us.

“You stole the accountant’s girl. I know he had something to say about it.”

“I answer to no man,” I said, echoing the words I’d said to Priest earlier.

Sorin smiled and nodded, then looked toward the front door. “You might have to answer to that,” he said.

I watched as Ashmore approached, still dressed impeccably, but even in the dim light of the room, his eyes were shifty with energy and animation. Only the presence of the person who accompanied him kept me from dismissing him.

Vargas, one of the most powerful men in the city’s criminal underworld.

Sorin stood, as did I. Priest’s place was the neutral spot where factions met to discuss business or on occasion, relax without fear of reprisal. But Familie belonged to Clan Petran, was in the heart of my territory. This intrusion would not go unnoticed and could not go unremarked.

Ashmore rushed toward me and then stopped. “I want her back. Now!”

At his sharp-voiced words, people began filing out of the room, first the women and staff, then the men, and finally higher-level soldiers. They knew when to make themselves scarce, and a visit from Ashmore and the Peruvian definitely qualified as one of those times.

Sorin moved closer to Ashmore, close enough to the other man’s face he could bite off his nose if he so chose. Something he’d done to others before.

“Do you know where you are?” Sorin asked.

The edge in his voice was razor-sharp, and he kept his eyes glued on Ashmore, waiting for the other man to do anything that would give him an excuse.

Vargas raised a hand, an attempt to placate Sorin. “We do. No disrespect intended. My associate is a little emotional.”

“Are you sanctioning this intrusion, Vargas?” I asked.

He headed the sizable Peruvian faction, and was personally responsible for half of the city’s drug trade. A person of his power in David’s corner was surprising, but even Vargas’s power would not sway me. If anything, this display only confirmed I’d done the right thing.

He shook his head. “Don’t think of it that way. I’m simply facilitating a meeting, hopefully one between friends.”

“He’s no friend of mine.” I inclined my head toward Ashmore. “You either. But we make money together. That can change,” I said.

Vargas’s eyes flashed with malice before he put his docile mask back in place. And that was all it was, the thinnest veneer of civility to hide the savagery underneath. It had helped him, too, his appearance of calm allowing him to emerge from the last war on top of the heap. It was impressive how he’d managed to pull rival factions together, wrangle complete control, and still maintain his reputation as a conciliator despite the bodies he’d stacked.

He’d worked hard for status, had gone to great lengths to keep it, and I wondered how deep his ties to David went if he was willing to risk it, or whether this was a surface play, a roundabout way for Vargas to solidify his hold on the Peruvians, which would give him almost a monopoly on the drug trade and the money and power that came with it, a result I wouldn’t allow.

I couldn’t immediately read his intentions. Unlike so many others, Vargas was usually in control of his emotions, and his thin face, dark eyes gave away nothing.

“Business is business, and what you did was bad business,” Vargas said, just managing to stay on the right side of chiding, but only barely.

Sorin stepped closer to Vargas, his own tolerance for the type of question Vargas posed far less than mine. But then again, Sorin had never been patient and had never,
ever,
overlooked a slight. That hotheaded nature always threatened to strike.

“Sorin, let Mr. Ashmore plead his case,” I said.

Sorin recognized the play for what it was, the barest attempt to give Vargas at least some of what he wanted, and he went along with it, loosening his stance but still alternating his glare between the two interlopers with naked contempt.

“Just give her back,” Ashmore said, voice now a whine. “No harm, no foul. And I can sweeten the pot. I’ll clean for free this week.”

He looked at me hopefully, eyes half begging, half defiant before he choked out, “She can stay another day if you’re not finished with her yet.”

I thinned my lips and exhaled hard, my hands clenching into fists, anger at his continued mistreatment of her surging through my blood. Sorin glared at Ashmore harder, and even Vargas shot him a brief look of disdain.

“Do not come here again. Either of you,” I said, looking at Vargas then.

“Please…I need her!” Ashmore cried, his hands balled into tight fists. “I need her.”

“Mr. Petran, extending this courtesy is something my organization would look kindly on,” Vargas said.

I huffed a breath and glared at Vargas. Of course his organization would look kindly on it. Why wouldn’t it? Giving her back would be a show a weakness on my part and would solidify his relationship with Ashmore. It was an excellent outcome for him, which was probably why he’d risked coming here in the first place.

“Do not come here again,” I said, keeping my eyes on Vargas, reminding him without words that he existed at the pleasure—and mercy—of Clan Petran. Yes, he’d displayed a savvy and brutality that was impressive, but had my clan taken sides, he would not have won. Seemed he’d forgotten that fact momentarily, but if the calculation I saw spinning in his eyes was a clue, he was quickly remembering.

“Thank you for your time. I hope we didn’t disrupt your evening,” Vargas finally said.

Then he turned, and Ashmore peered at him, mouth gaped open. “What about…?”

Vargas looked back. “You heard the man. And if you want to continue breathing, I suggest you follow me.”

Now Ashmore’s expression was a mix of anger, desperation, and fear. I focused on the fear, and twisted my face into an even more unwelcoming grimace.

“Just…tell her to please call me,” he said, voice reminiscent of a little boy’s, filled with hope and trepidation. He’d taken such pleasure in lording over her, of showing me how powerful he was because he controlled her. And now he was begging for a phone call that would never come. Pathetic, even more so than I’d pegged him for.

I stared at him silently, unblinking, and eventually, Ashmore turned and fled, trailing behind Vargas.

When they’d exited, Sorin relaxed his stance. “We should have fucked them up.”

“It wasn’t worth it,” I replied.

“But pussy is worth fucking with our business?”

I clenched my fists tighter.

“You talk too fucking much, Sorin,” I said sharply.

He froze, his expression flashing an apology before his features turned down into a frown. “Sorry, brother.”

Then he left as well, probably in search of more drinks and women to pick up his celebration where it had left off. And when Priest returned, I simply shook my head, not the least bit surprised he was here. He regarded me with sharp black eyes, ones that practically demanded an explanation.

“That doesn’t work on me,” I said on a deep, tired sigh.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Vasile,” he said as he sat next to me. “Rock the boat and you’ll get splashed by the waves.”