MIKHAIL
Nine Weeks Later…
The FBI has nothing on me. The search warrant for the bratva compound was strictly to find Madisyn.
They had to release me. Luka too.
“I want you to swing by Federal Plaza,” I say to Luka.
“Do you think that’s wise, sir?” Luka is behind the wheel.
Dmitri has been holding down the fort while I’ve been in and out of the hospital for surgery. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. The stab wound was deep and required stitches, but the fight ended up rupturing my spleen.
But I’ve come to trust Luka even more over the past few weeks. His loyalty to saving Madisyn will be repaid one day.
“No, but I want to see her.”
Correction. I need to see her. It’s been nine weeks since I’ve had my fix of Madisyn Taylor. At least that’s the name that she gave me when she broke down.
Her real name is Madisyn Carter. I’ve managed to dig into her past.
Once a week, I cruise past her apartment in the city. Late at night, when she leaves the window shade open, I can see her in her bedroom, the lights on.
It’s like she leaves her blinds open for me. Does she ever see me watching from my car out on the street, parked in front of her building?
I haven’t approached her. I’ve kept my distance because I want to protect her.
Until the cartel members are prosecuted and their organization breaks apart, she will be a target, especially if they believe that we’re together.
It’s no wonder that her dimwitted ex-boyfriend didn’t know it was all a ruse, our relationship. Well, it wasn’t fake to me when it started, but that’s a secret I’ll be taking to my grave.
I fucked up and fell in love.
I can’t let that happen again. I swear I won’t, but there have been too many sleepless nights. I will get her back into my bed.
“There are other ways that are far more subtle,” Luka says.
“You mean like running into her?” I’m not a subtle man. I work with a purpose, and if I want something, I take it.
“You could start with sending flowers.”
“I don’t send flowers.” He can’t be serious. I’m not the least bit soft or gentle. That’s not how I operate.
Luka is desperately trying not to smile. “Right. You could send her a Glock.”
“Very funny,” I mutter under my breath. “I think giving a federal agent an illegal weapon isn’t my best move.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, his focus on the road. “It would get you in handcuffs, and she could frisk you.”
He’s a dead man.
“I’m done talking with you about Madisyn. How’s your love life?” I’m bitter, and I don’t even give a shit.
“About as non-existent as yours,” Luka says. “We could go to the club, find a hot piece of ass? I’m sure there’s some girl there who can satisfy your urges.”
The idea makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t want anyone else. I want Madisyn.
“No.” I cut off his suggestion, not wanting to hear another word or thought about what he wants to do to some girl half his age. He likes chasing ass, and I’m only interested in chasing after Madisyn.
Damn, she’s gotten to me.
Fuck.
“Okay. We could order you an escort?” Luka says.
That’s his nice way of suggesting bringing a prostitute into the compound. I don’t need to pay for sex. I can have any number of hot ladies I want. The problem is that those ladies aren’t Madisyn. It doesn’t matter how much they look like her or sound like her. They’re not her.
I’m appalled at his remark. “Or we could kidnap Madisyn, and I can have my way with her.”
Luka glances at me. “That is an option, but may I remind you what happened the last time she went missing? The Feds raided our compound, and we didn’t even have her in our possession.”
He’s right.
But I don’t care. I want her, and I want to have my way with her.
“Retrieve her and bring her to my home.”
Luka’s knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel. “And if she doesn’t go willingly, sir?”
“She will.” No doubt she’s been in agony without my touch against her supple skin. She’ll bend to my will, and I will break her if necessary.
* * *
I ensure my men have the compound in order, clean and, more importantly, anything incriminating locked up and hidden away.
Bringing her home is a risk, but one that I’m willing to take.
If I was an honorable man, I’d leave her alone, let her live her life, and forget about the moment that we shared.
But I’m not the least bit good. I pride myself on being brutal and ruthless. It’s how I survived when my father was Pakhan and I was nothing more than a lowly prince.
With brutality comes strength. He taught me all that I know, and it is with his wisdom and guidance, I was able to take over the throne when he died.
It didn’t come without a fight.
His men may have questioned my command, but never my loyalty. Now they fall at my feet if I demand it from them.
Except for Sergei.
He is the one mistake that keeps me up at night.