Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)(137)

And still his pain didn’t lessen. That’s when he knew it never would. Because she was never coming back.

His last effort, his final imploring wail to reach her, came in the form of her name.



♦ ♦ ♦



The boys were all stone-faced, and every female had her ears covered, trying to block the sounds coming from the operating room. Alek fisted his hands and ground his teeth to nubs as his uncle’s hoarse shouts continued.

“What the fuck?” Maks growled. “Did the goddamn anesthetic wear off?”

Eva pushed out of G’s arms and rushed to the doors to try to see in the window for the hundredth time. Vasily’s voice was losing its power, but it was still plenty loud enough for all of them to hear his final rough, mournful call.

Eva’s mother’s name.

At hearing it, their daughter broke down completely. As her fear found the outlet it had been seeking, her husband’s strong arms were there to shelter her. They were replaced often, each of them taking turns holding her, talking with her, or just sitting with her, offering whatever she needed. Nika, Sacha, and Sydney continued to keep Lekzi entertained as they fetched food and drinks that no one touched—Gabriel force-fed his wife just enough to keep her sugar on the level. Calls came in that no one answered, and those doors closing them out were continuously under observation.

At last, four and a half hours after he’d gone in, Yuri shoved through the swinging panels looking as if he’d swam the length of a swimming pool to get there. He was red-eyed and soaked with perspiration, but otherwise appeared unfazed.

“We finally found those damned bleeders. He’s stable. Give me twenty to get rid of the gore, and you can come in two at a time.”

He disappeared again. No one celebrated. They just silently thanked whoever it was they’d been praying to. Sacha left Eva and came over with Lekzi. The baby leaned away from her mother and into him. Remembering Kathryn’s name coming from behind those doors, Alek took his baby and wrapped her up tight. He couldn’t look at Sacha as he dreaded the coming days.

He had to offer her a choice. Voluntarily give her an out.

But how could he?

Then again, how could he not?





THIRTY-THREE




A couple of long, quiet days later, as Grigori drove the Maybach into the underground parking garage of her and Alekzander’s apartment building, Sacha tapped her fingers on the front of her purse.

They parked next to Alekzander’s new Range Rover. It was identical to the one Markus had last driven; only it was black. As were the clothes Alekzander continued to wear, and would for the traditional forty-day mourning period as was the custom in the Orthodox religion.

And mourning he was. Many times over the past few days, Sacha had looked up from feeding Lekzi in Samnang’s welcoming kitchen to see Alekzander sitting out back on a lounger next to the covered pool, the snow falling around him as he looked out over the sprawling lawn. She’d left the baby with one of the girls the first couple of times and gone out to make sure he was okay. He’d nodded, kissed her hand, and told her he was visiting with Markus. It had reminded her of a time shortly after they’d met and she’d caught him drifting during a movie they were watching. She’d asked him if he found the film boring. He’d smiled and told her he’d just gone off to visit with his mother for a moment. She’d loved him for that. Just as she loved him for so many things.

Loved him so much she’d finally taken a hard look at this life and put things into perspective.

In the time she’d known the Tarasovs, there had been three instances of violence against the women and children in the family, and two of those hadn’t involved Sacha in any way. She hadn’t even known about them until well after the fact; Eva’s mother’s death, and Renee and Evan’s death. And all three instances, when she included what had happened since her return, had been the result of one man’s actions. One hopefully-dead man’s actions.

She knew things went on within the Bratva all the time, but rarely were Alekzander or his uncle directly involved. Not that being in their position made what she suspected went on acceptable, but she wasn’t the morality police, and she couldn’t pretend to be. She’d known who Alekzander’s family was the moment he’d told her his uncle’s name, and wrong or not, it hadn’t swayed her. She’d fallen in love and built a life with her Russian anyway.

Which left her with a choice to make.

She could give Alekzander a grace period to mourn the losses he’d taken, wait until Vasily was back on his feet, then pack Lekzi up and leave with Sheppard, Lupin, and Sheppard’s family lawyer at her side. Lekzi would be without her father in her life and without a loving family at her back. She would be raised by a mother who was only half a person because she was being forced to live without the man who completed her. But the baby would be safe from possible harm.