Glazov slammed his fist down on his desk, rattling the drawers and sending papers and pens flying.
"An attack against me, at the wedding of my children?! On a sacred occasion?! In my home?! Un-fucking-acceptable. I want whoever did this brought to me – still breathing. I want to present their head to my wife on a fucking platter, but I will be the one to do it."
Novak was the only one who had the balls to talk to him when he was this angry. "That's the thing … we kept that guest list tight and right. We didn't announce it. We kept everything on the down low..."
Leave it to Novak to word things with a hip, no-nonsense attitude. They were as different as night and day, Glazov and his cousin-yin and yang. The only similarity they shared was their penchant for kinky sex. The need for control in the bedroom ran deep in both of them. Glazov could only assume the need for complete control was due to the uncertainty of their lives because they were gangsters.
He had kept this meeting between just the two of them because right now he didn't know who he could trust. He had yet to find the source of the betrayal. But he would.
" … which leads me to believe we've got a leak, one that's a little too close to home."
"I hear you. Anybody been asking for a raise lately? Anybody seem jealous or disgruntled?"
Both men knew how easy it was for an employee to begin to think too highly of themselves. They saw what others had and wanted it for themselves – earned or not; deserved or not. They began to think of ways to make outside money, and what easier way to do that than to sell information to the enemy?
Novak's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Then again, this could go far beyond our organization. It could have something to do with one of our peace treaties. Antonio Wayne and Ricardo Ramirez are having problems with the Sinaloan cartel. Seems they abducted one of Diego's women and that set everything off. Maybe the Sinaloans are breaking any peace treaties they have and looking to expand their territory."
"Sounds like I need to have a chat with Santiago." Glazov could feel his jaw ticking in irritation. If the Sinaloans were going rogue it could only mean trouble for all of them. Although fear wasn't an option, they'd be fools to not acknowledge that the Sinaloans were killing each other in the streets at an alarming rate.
"Fucking animals. Glazov, you won't be talking to Santiago any time soon."
"Why is that?" Glazov asked with a scowl.
"Because his own men don't even know where he is. He's on the run."
Chapter Four
The energy in the room shifted even before Kathleen looked up to find Glazov standing in the doorway of their bedroom. She could feel the predatory energy that surrounded him, the air practically crackled with it as his rabid eyes settled on her. She went utterly still, clenching the sheets in her fists as her wide-eyed gaze darted around the room, quickly taking stock of the distance from the bed to the bathroom, then from the bed to the closet.
As if either space would offer a shred of protection from the sensory onslaught that was headed her way.
Her eyes jolted back to her husband, noting how his breathing had deepened and become ragged. His muscles appeared to be locked in place, poised to pounce if she so much as moved a muscle. Icy blue eyes glittered at her from across the room when he took the first slow, deliberate step toward her, as if daring her to try her luck.
She sprang from the bed, nearly throwing her laptop to the floor as she sprinted toward the bathroom, her choice made. In a leap so swift that it hardly seemed human, Glazov reached her in an instant and wrapped an arm around her waist, yanking her effortlessly off the ground and over his shoulder. He crossed the threshold into the bathroom with ease even as her arms and legs flailed helplessly in the air. He smirked to himself as she pummeled his back and cursed a blue streak about the questionable lineage of arrogant Russian cavemen.
A sharp smack to her ass echoed throughout the room, then Glazov was depositing her onto the marble vanity. He towered over her as he slammed his hands onto the marble surface on either side of her hips. She gasped at the sound and he took full advantage by taking her lips in a searing, claiming kiss.
With a low growl, he leaned in, shoving her thighs apart, cupping her ass, and yanking her toward him. He threaded a massive hand through her auburn mane, clasping the back of her head. She leaned into his touch until he clenched a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck and harshly jerked her head back.