Redemption: (Dark Desires Book 3) (17 page)

Taras got out of his white
Maserati GranTurismo rental and walked over to the beach house that Vladimir
supposedly owned. It didn’t look like property The Impaler would buy. It was
simply too… normal and the neighbourhood was far too… suburban. Trusting that
his intel was correct, he rang the bell at the gate and waited. 

Valerie was back in the kitchen
rummaging around in the refrigerator for leftovers. Potato salad. Yes, the
creamy carb-rich mix was exactly what she needed. Val knew that she was overdoing
the eating-for-three line she touted as an excuse whenever she got the
side-eye, but she didn't care. The taste took her to a new level of high to
give a damn. The doorbell rang disrupting the foodgasm she was currently
experiencing. Vlad had a set of keys so it couldn't be him. Maybe it was one of
the girls. What was an unexpected visit among friends?

Looking at the security camera
screen next to the intercom, she saw a man dressed in a white t-shirt and white
linen pants. It wasn't someone she knew or recognised. He was dressed far too
casually to be a door to door salesman. Maybe it was a neighbour. They hadn't
yet introduced themselves to the people in their block in the nine months that
they'd lived there. 

“Hello,” said Valerie through
the speaker.

“Hi, I’m looking for Vladimir
Branza,” answered the man in a far more prominent Russian accent than Vlad’s.

Valerie was struck dumb.
Vladimir hadn't said anything about visitors. In fact, beyond her friends and
his brothers, and more recently her family, he wasn't very keen on having anyone
inside their home. Even the cleaning service he employed once a week had a
two-hour time frame in which to get their job done. Whoever this man was, knew
that this was Vladimir's residence. The question now was whether he was friend
or foe, and more importantly, why was he looking for her husband? Realising she
had been silent for far too long, she spoke again.

“Hold on a minute.”

Rushing to retrieve her cell
phone from the kitchen counter where her mid-afternoon snack now sat abandoned
and forgotten, she dialled Vlad.

Loading the last of the
groceries into the trunk of his car, Vladimir slammed it shut and climbed into
the driver's seat. Before he could reverse out of the parking lot, his phone
vibrated in his pocket against his thigh. He pulled out the device and smiled
at the caller ID picture of Valerie lying on the couch, balancing a bucket of
popcorn on her protruding stomach as she watched one series or another.

“Yes, I remembered the Oreos,
and yes I got the black ones with the white, creamy centre.” It was amusing how
whipped he was. A year ago he couldn’t even imagine playing errand boy for a
woman, let alone having a pregnant wife. He shrugged off the thought. He was
happier now than he'd ever been. Vlad loved every minute of catering to Val’s
needs, the biggest one being her sexual appetite, followed by foot rubs and
snack runs.

“There’s a man at the gate
looking for you. He sounds Russian – more Russian than you and Dre and no he’s
not Romanian. I could pick the two apart when Mihaela spoke to Raven,” Val
rushed out.

The smile that had been playing
on his lips faded quickly. He switched the call to speaker phone and slammed
his Merc into gear. "I'm on the way. Give me five minutes and whatever you
do, don't let him in."

“Okay,” said Val softly. Her
earlier unease turned into fear over who the unexpected guest was.

"Stay on the phone with me
until I get there. Everything will be okay. Are my
dvoynyashki
still
hungry?” As worried as Vladimir was for his wife’s safety, he didn’t want her
to panic. If the man that had boldly come to his home, the same home that his
pregnant wife resided in, did so much as dare force his way in, he wouldn’t
live to see tomorrow. Vladimir would make sure of it. Skidding out of the
shopping centre parking lot, he floored his way to the beach house.

“The twins couldn't wait for
you to come back. They reeeeally wanted potato salad." Val knew that Vlad
was trying to distract her from the danger she was possibly in, and she would let
him. Nothing made her happier than thoughts of their growing children. In the
midst of whatever storm it is that was brewing outside, she couldn’t help the
joy she felt when she thought of meeting them next month.

“Are you sure it’s the
twins
and not
you
that wanted the potato salad?”

“Vlad, you know I wouldn’t
willingly eat carbs. They were threatening to break my ribs. I had to give in.”

“Right. We’re going to have to
talk about how not to spoil them. I want to raise two well-mannered little
people, not toddler tyrants. At this rate, they'll be out of control by the age
of five," said Vlad in his sternest tone of voice. It was all talk. He
knew that he would give them whatever their little hearts desired. They would
never lack for anything or experience any of the hardships he had faced in his
childhood. The car was two blocks away from their home. Thank God he hadn't
gone too far.

“We’ll see how well you stick
to that mantra once they’re here and keeping us up at all hours of the night.”

Vlad smiled at the thought. He
couldn’t wait for that day to come. All he had to do was sort out the problem
waiting for him at the gate. A problem that could jeopardise making that
happen. "Okay, I'm driving up the road. Go to my office and lock yourself
in. Don't come out until I come down there to get you." Ending the call,
he pulled up behind the white Maserati.

No one had to tell her twice.
Val was on the move once the line went dead. She just prayed that whatever
happened out there, Vlad was safe. She needed him; their children needed him.
There was no way Valerie could raise the twins without him now. Had she told
him how much she loved him today? She always said it when he agreed to give her
a massage or prepare her toasted sandwiches in the middle of the night, but did
he know she meant it? Valerie hoped he did. She would start saying it more
often without him having to cater to her numerous requests.

Taras was becoming increasing
annoyed at being kept outside like a beggar at the gate. Vlad needed better
help. He would personally fire anyone on his staff for their incompetence if
they kept a guest of his waiting outside. It didn't matter that the woman on
the speaker didn't know who Taras was. The least she could do was let him know
whether the man he had come to see was in or not.

When Vladimir emerged from the
black Merc, his irritation abated. However, the man of the hour didn’t look too
pleased to see him based on the tight expression he wore on his face.
Vladimir’s mood was none of his concern. The Impaler he needed the services of
was not a cheerful guy anyway. The intimidating man that approached him was the
beast he was looking to recruit. No quaint house in a quiet suburb could hide
the violent acts displayed by The Impaler a few months ago.

“Why are you here?” barked
Vlad.

“Is that any way to say hello
to a friend that has done you more favours than anybody else in this lifetime?”

“Ah! So you’re here to collect?
Send me the bill and I’ll wire it through.”

“Your staff also kept me
waiting. At least offer me a drink before I start to think we’ve become enemies.
Just so we're clear, all debts are squared. I didn't come all this way to collect
a cheque.” Taras crossed his arms against his chest in a pose that signified he
wouldn’t be swayed. “You should know me better than that.”

Vladimir expelled a deep breath
through his nostrils as he tried to stay calm. He knew Taras well, very well,
and whatever it is that he wanted was bad news for this new leaf in life he had
turned. "Whatever you want the answer is no."

"You don't even know what
I have to say.” He uncrossed his arms and placed them in his pockets trying a
different route. “I'm sure you can extend me the same courtesy that I showed
you - even after you threatened to go to the Americans.” He walked closer to
Vladimir and looked him in the eye. “I’m dying to meet the woman you’ve moved
heaven and earth for. I promise I won’t steal her away if that's what you're
worried about.”

Shit! Of course, Taras would
know about Valerie. He was fine letting him think that it was “one of his
staff” that had kept him outside. Vlad was not about to let him anywhere near
his wife. The best course of action would be to hear what he had to say and get
him out of his home as quickly as possible. After that, any interactions
between them would have to be far away from here or severed altogether.

"I doubt you could. Come
in and make this quick.”

*****

Valerie had been frantically
wearing the carpet thin with her pacing. She had to calm down. Taking a seat
behind the work desk, she dialled Vlad again. No answer. What if something was
wrong? It had been over an hour since they'd last spoken. What if he was lying
on the floor, bleeding to death, as she stood in his office –which was now
being used as a panic room – waiting for him to come back?

She had to act. The man who had
been waiting outside had come alone. She was capable of taking him out if she
remembered everything Vlad had taught her about wielding a firearm. One shot
and he'd be dead. Val had never killed a person, but this was a matter of
self-defence.
Firing a gun or riding a bike. Skills you can’t forget.

Punching in the password to the
safe, she took out the 9mm pistol and screwed on the silencer. Her neighbours
did not need to hear gunshots coming from their home. Or maybe they did? That
would alert them to call the police if everything went belly-up. Deciding that
she would make the choice to take off the silencer once she knew what was going
on, Valerie unlocked the door and headed for the stairs.

Nothing but silence could be
heard as she stood on the landing. If Vladimir wasn't in trouble then why
hadn't he come back for her? No, something was wrong, or maybe they were still
outside. She had to help him. She refused to be a sitting duck this time
around. Her children would not come into this world as hostages. This time, she
would fight her way out of whatever it was that lay in wait.

*****

Vlad knew he had been sloppy
with his first kill. Mehmet’s body should never have been left out in the open.
It appeared that Taras had been cleaning up after him during his retribution campaign.
He couldn't say that he was surprised. Taras had always encouraged his brand of
law and order. As long as he kept Valerie out of his thoughts and mouth, he
could continue to speak. That didn't mean that Vlad was enjoying the catch-up.
He wished the man would just spit out what he wanted and be on his merry way.

“What do you want me to say?
‘Thank you for the clean-up crew, it accidentally slipped my mind?’ ” said Vlad
barely tamping down his annoyance.

Taras set down his glass of
whisky and leant forward. "That’s what friends are for. I have your back
Vladimir. Why else would I lend you my private jet – twice. When I gave you a
shipment that would have ruined all of us, I agreed to it as your friend,"
said Taras. The man was a damn fortress when it came to his inner circle. After
all these years, he’d hoped that his acquiescence and complete acceptance of
The Impaler’s bloodlust would have earned him a certain level of trust and yes,
the right to be considered a friend. In all honesty, he respected Vladimir, and
he didn’t respect many.

“Okay,
moy drug
,”
my
friend,
he said the term tauntingly.
“
What is it that you need?”
It’s not that Vladimir didn’t like Taras, the truth was on the contrary.
However, where Taras was involved trouble lurked, and he was no longer willing
to be a part of it. 

"You relinquished your
contracts in our arms organisation to me. Sad as I was to see you go, I didn't
hold you back. I'm now looking at a new industry that's ripe for the picking,
and I need a man of your talents to lay down the foundation for me."

A man of your talents
. Vlad smirked at Taras' choice
in words. He could be charming and in essence was giving him free reign to sate
the killer that lurked deep within. If only this offer had been brought to the
table a year ago. He’d gladly sign on the dotted line irrespective of the
details. As he was pondering the best way to decline politely, his wife climbed
the last stair and approached them with a gun pointed at Taras' head.

Trust his stubborn wife to do
the opposite of what he’d requested. However, Vlad had to admit that the intent
look on her face as she wielded the gun, poised to fire, made him proud – and
hard. He stood up and walked over to her. “There’s no need for that
moya
zhena.
”
My wife
. He took the pistol from her sturdy hands and put
the safety back on. Placing a hand on her lower back, he led her to the couch
he had just vacated and helped her ease down on it. Vladimir would have
preferred if these two parts of his life never collided again, but here she
was. He had no choice but to manoeuvre his way around this landmine.

“Valerie, this is my old
friend, Taras. We got carried away catching up. Taras this is my
wife
Valerie” said Vlad. He wanted him to know that he would not stand for any games
where she was concerned. There were plenty of other women to toy with, and his
was off limits.