"What is this?" Nikolai took the bag from Kostya and held it up to examine it. He found himself staring at a bloodied bullet. "Is this—?"
"From the Ghost," Kostya confirmed. "I dug it out of the wall before I took the corpse and put it on ice."
"Where is he?"
"In one of my facilities."
"Finn Connolly shot him?" Nikolai rolled the bullet around between the plastic.
"One shot. Perfectly placed between the eyes," Kostya stated. "He's one hell of a sniper. It's too bad he doesn't freelance. We could use him."
"There are other ways to get him to work for us." Nikolai handed back the bullet. "Keep that safe. The body too."
"Da."
"Do you know what he did with the rifle?"
"Finn?" Kostya shrugged. "I would assume he put it right back into storage. I can find out."
"Find the gun. We might need it."
Neither Artyom nor Kostya asked why. They both knew what he was planning. Nikolai didn't relish the idea of blackmailing and extorting a man like Finn Connolly, but his endgame was clear and hard choices had to be made.
When they reached the house, Artyom dropped him off at the back gate. He felt his burden lightening as he walked onto his property. He zeroed in on Ten sitting on the back steps. He scowled like a misbehaving puppy that had been banished outside.
With a sigh, Nikolai meandered over to check the garden beds. He didn't spot any weeds or wilting. So far so good. He walked toward the pergola and noticed too many dead and dying center roses on the cluster. He didn't often dead-head these in the summer, but Vivian spent so much time out here. He wanted her to have a beautiful place to sit and enjoy her mornings and evenings.
As Nikolai picked up the pail and pruning shears he kept near the pergola, Ten lumbered over and watched him snip away the center roses and trace canes to healthier shoots for pruning when necessary. He glanced at Ten and asked, "What did you do to piss her off this early in the morning?"
"The detective is here. She sent me outside before he arrived."
Nikolai lowered the shears. "Eric is here?"
Ten nodded. "He's in the kitchen."
Nikolai dropped the shears into the pail and pushed it into Ten's hands. "Dump these in the compost."
With powerful, long strides, he crossed the yard and took the steps two at a time. He entered the sunroom through the French doors there and immediately heard the loud voices coming from inside the house. Shit.
So much for his quiet morning catching up on sleep and enjoying Vivian.
Chapter Twenty-Four
"Miss Vivian?" Boychenko poked his head into the kitchen where I sat at the breakfast table enjoying a cup of tea and some peanut butter toast. Ten sat across from me and shoveled a shocking amount of bacon and eggs into his mouth. His appetite trounced Sergei's. If he ever cut back on his workouts, Ten was going to get flabby fast.
Tearing my gaze away from Ten's plate, I asked, "What is it, Boy?"
"The detective just pulled up out front."
"Oh." I glanced at Ten who had stopped chewing. "You need to go outside and stay there until Eric leaves."
He swallowed. "I'm eating."
"There's a bench in the pergola."
Ten started to argue but didn't. He used his fork to push the last of his eggs and bacon onto a slice of toast. He smashed the hastily arranged sandwich between another thick toast slice, picked up his glass of orange juice and left the kitchen. I rolled my eyes at his broad back but couldn't help the little smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.
The doorbell rang, and Boychenko waited for my instruction. "Let Eric inside, please. Ask him to come back to the kitchen."
"Yes, ma'am."
I finished my toast and tidied up the table. Eric walked into the kitchen as I was wiping crumbs off the counter. He stalked across the room, wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up in a bone-crushing hug. "God, I'm so glad you're all right."
"Eric," I said with a laugh. "I'm fine. Um—maybe you could loosen up a bit?"
"Sorry." He put me down and let go of me. His hand settled on my shoulder as he looked me over. "You're sure you're okay?"
"I'm perfectly fine."
Eric's face suddenly slackened as he got a good look at me. His brown eyes glinted with panic. "You're pregnant."
My hands moved to the noticeable curve to my once-flat stomach. The yoga pants and tank top were too slim-fitting to hide anything. "Yes."
"No." Eric slashed his hand through the air. "You can't be pregnant."
"Eric," I huffed with laughter, "I absolutely can be. That's sort of what happens when people get married."
As if on the verge of a full-blown anxiety attack, he gripped both my hands and gave them a shake. "But he'll never let you go now. He'll own you. He'll own this baby. Jesus, Vivian! What were you thinking?"
"Eric." I shouted his name in the hopes of breaking through his frenzied state. "Calm down!"
"Calm down?" He let go of my hands and cupped my face. "Vivian, open your fucking eyes. Do you see what's happening? The cartel war is here. You aren't safe anymore. Your father is poking his finger in Lorenzo Guzman's face and daring him to attack. You'll be at the top of his list of targets."
He wasn't telling me anything I hadn't already worked out for myself. "Nikolai will keep me safe."
"Nikolai is the biggest danger to you and this baby." One of his hands moved down to cup my bump. His eyes flashed with such pain and anguish. "He'll kill you just like he killed her. Only this time? It won't be his hands that do the dirty work. It will be some sicaria who gets close enough to you to jab her blade between your ribs."
Jerking on my hands, he tugged me forward. "No. I'm not letting him kill someone else I love. You're coming with me. I know people who can hide you."
"Eric!" I tried to pull free but his grip was too tight. "Stop! Let me go!"
"You can kick and scream all you like, but you're coming with me."
Why hadn't Boy come to my aid? Surely he could hear us arguing.
"That kid isn't coming to help you," Eric said as if reading my mind. "He's passed out and tied up in the entryway."
"Eric! Are you insane? You can't do this!"
"I'd like to see someone stop me. I have a badge and a gun." He tugged hard and pulled me out of the kitchen. "I should have done this last December. I should have made you come with me then. None of this would have happened. You never would have been kidnapped. You wouldn’t have married Nikolai. You wouldn't be pregnant with his baby."
"Eric!" I smacked his arm and back. "Let me go! I'm serious! Stop!"
"No. I'm doing this for your own good. I'm doing this to save your life."
This was what Nikolai and Tatiana's lies had done to Eric. They had reduced him to this panicked, paranoid man who was trying to kidnap me. It was time for me to tell the truth and shame the devil.
I planted my feet against the wood floors of the dining room and dug in my heels. "Tatiana isn't dead. She's alive."
Eric stopped cold. He spun toward me. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Who told you that?"
"Nikolai."
"He's a liar."
"Sometimes," I agreed, "but he's not lying about this. I saw her."
"That's impossible. She's dead. I saw the photos of the car wreck."
"You saw the photos?" But Nikolai had said that only Maksim and Tatiana's father had been sent the photos. "How?"
Eric ignored my question. "Whatever you think you know about Tatiana is wrong. Nikolai killed her because of me."
"No, Eric." I tried to be gentle. "Everything you know is wrong. He didn't kill her. He saved her—and you. He had Kostya fake a car wreck. They made it look real. They sent photos to Maksim and to her father. She let Kostya take her finger as proof."
I hesitated and decided not to tell him about the pregnancy. Not yet.
"Kostya and Nikolai got her out of the country. They smuggled her into Australia. She stayed there for a while befor
e moving to Hong Kong and starting a new life as Tatiana Melnikova. She built a new identity around her old one. She's alive, Eric."
His fingers loosened their grip. My hands dropped to my sides. He swallowed once, then twice, and turned his back on me. For a moment, I thought he was going to be sick. I placed my hand on his shoulder, but he roughly shoved it off. "Don't."
"Eric…"
"Don't." He whirled on me with fiercely angry eyes. "How long have you known?"
"I found out the morning of my show." That seemed to lessen his intense feelings of betrayal. "I've only been home for a day, Eric. I'm telling you now because you have a right to know."
"A right to know?" he ground out furiously. "I had a right to know before she left!" Eric blew up suddenly and swept his arms across the top of the sideboard. Dishes and dining accessories went flying everywhere. Serving bowls and platters crashed onto the floor. Napkin rings bounced and rolled with a clatter. Candles hit with a thud. I took a quick step back and hugged the wall.
"Eight fucking years! Eight motherfucking years!"
My jaw dropped. I had never seen Eric this angry. I had never heard him talk like that either. He was enraged to a point where he wasn’t thinking straight.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Nikolai ran into the dining room and stepped in front of me. He reached back with one hand, searching for me, and touched my hip. I rested my hand on his lower back. "Santos, why are you tearing up my dining room?"
"Tatiana's alive!" He said it as if daring Nikolai to deny it.
My husband glanced back at me. His taut expression told me he wasn’t thrilled I had told Eric the truth. Looking back at Eric, he nodded. "Yes, she is. She was in Houston a few weeks ago. She's back in Hong Kong now."
"Houston? She was here?"
"Yes. We met at the Four Seasons."
"She saw you. Eight fucking years—and she goes to you?" A sound that reminded me of a wolf's lonesome howl escaped Eric's throat. He picked up the vase of flowers from the center of the table and tossed it against the wall.
Nikolai jumped back and used his body to cover mine. I clung to his back and squeaked as the crystal shattered and rained down on the floor with the flowers and water.
"Eight years I grieved for that woman!" Eric jerked the antique lace tablecloth like a magician, but his trick wasn't well practiced. Votives in crystal cups flew through the air. "Eight years I let the guilt eat me."
"Eric!" Nikolai walked toward my cousin. "Stop."
"Stop? Stop what?" Eric let loose a strangled laugh. "Stop hating myself for being the reason the woman I loved was killed? Stop hating you for taking her from me? Stop spending night after night dreaming of all the ways I could kill you without getting caught?"
Nikolai didn't miss a beat. "One thing at a time, Eric. You don't want to cross all your favorite hobbies off your list at once."
"You bastard! You think this is funny?" Eric charged Nikolai for making that joke, but Nikolai was ready for him. He stepped just to the left before Eric made contact, wrapped his arms around Eric's shoulders and neck and swept my cousin's legs. Eric went down to his knees, and Nikolai slipped behind him, squeezing his arms around Eric's neck and shoulders with enough force to make him stop fighting.
"Enough, Eric." Nikolai held tight, but he wasn't trying to hurt him. "That's enough."
Eric raged for almost a minute and then surrendered with a sag of defeat. A ragged sob tore from his throat. "I fucking loved her so much. She was the only one. The only one."
"I know." Nikolai's grip loosened and changed to one of comfort. "I am sorry, Eric."
I watched the sworn enemies with a mix of shock and bewilderment. The tepid peace between them didn't last long. Eric threw his elbows back, slamming them into Nikolai's ribs in a cheap shot that sent him staggering backward. He clambered to his feet and leveled a dead-eyed but still wet stare toward Nikolai. "If you expect a thank you—"
"I don't expect shit from you, Santos." Nikolai winced as he touched his bruised side. "What I did wasn't for you. It was for her. She deserved a chance to live. She got it."
"This doesn't change things between us."
"Of course it doesn't."
Eric stormed out of the dining room, but I raced after him. Glass shards crunched beneath the white soles of my slip-on walking shoes. "Eric! Wait!" I caught up with him in the entryway, but I had to hop over a bound and unconscious Boy to reach him. "Please!"
He whirled around on me. "What?"
"Eric, I'm sorry." I blinked rapidly and hot tears spilled onto my cheeks. "I'm so sorry it came out like that. I never wanted you to find out like this."
"Why the hell are you apologizing to me for something you didn't do?"
"You just destroyed my dining room. You tried to kidnap me. I'm a little on edge, Eric! Apologizing for breaking your heart all over again seemed like the right thing to do."
Eric exhaled roughly and wiped at his own wet face with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry. I'll replace all of that stuff I broke. Just send me the bill."
"Are you kidding me? It's just stuff. It doesn’t matter." I clasped his hand. "You're my family." I touched the baby with both of our hands. "You're this baby's family."
"God," he said on an anguished sigh. "Are we the most fucked up family or what?"
"I don't know. We are what we are. This is it." I gestured between us. "I want you in my life, Eric. You're important to me. But…"
"But?"
"I know how hard it is for you to see Nikolai. Especially now," I added, thinking of the lies that had just been blown open in our dining room. "If you need to cut me out of your life for your own sanity—"
"Stop," he said gruffly. "I'm not cutting you or the baby out of my life." His fingertips grazed my stomach. "We'll figure it out. Somehow."
"Okay."
He drew back his hand. "I need to go, Vivian."
"I understand."
He reached for the door and left the house. He was almost to the steps when he turned back around and crossed the porch, not stopping until he was standing so close to me I could count each and every one of his eyelashes. "Seven years ago, a woman contacted me after Tatiana went missing."
"What woman?"
"I don't know. I only met her once. I got into my Explorer at the end of my shift, and she was in the backseat. I damned near had a heart attack!" He shook his head. "She knew a lot about me. She knew even more about Tatiana. I wanted her to tell me more, but she got out of my SUV and disappeared like a fucking ghost. She left behind a dossier."
"Come on, Eric! This sounds like something from a spy movie!"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Vivi!" His harsh whisper made that point. "I think she was a spy. Not for us, though. For them."
"Them? Wait. You mean Russia?"
"Yes."
"You think she was…what? KGB? FSB?"
"I don't know. She was older. So probably KGB."
"Eric," I said with a disbelieving laugh. "That's crazy."
"Is it?" He stepped even closer. "Who else but a fucking spy would know that Maksim Prokhorov is Nikolai's biological father?"
My heart fluttered in my chest. "Eric, please tell me that you haven't repeated that to anyone."
"I'm still alive. Obviously not."
Trying to wrap my head around the idea that a Russian spy had been feeding Eric information, I asked, "Has she contacted you since then?"
"No. I think she was disappointed that I took so long to act on the information."
My belly flip-flopped with nervousness. I tried not to freak out. "What do you mean? How did you act on it?"
Eric's gaze dropped to his shoes. It took him a long time to admit, "I'm the one who got Nikolai put on the No Fly List."
"What! Why would you do that?" Before he could answer, I snarled, "Do you have any idea what that was like for me? Do you have any idea how dangerous it was for Nikolai to get to me in London?"
"Give me a break, Vivian! He wouldn't be
on that list if he didn't have a past that had earned him a spot."
"He's not a terrorist!"
"No, he's a fucking gangster who belongs to an organization that sells arms to some of the worst people on this planet! He deserves to be on that list, and I'm sorry if it inconveniences your vacation plans."
"Are you finished?" I crossed my arms and refused to take the bait. I wasn't going to get into an argument with Eric over this. I had made my choice to be with Nikolai with eyes wide open. There was nothing Eric could say right now that would change that.
"Yes." His shoulders deflated from their high, tense positioning once he realized I wasn't going to fight with him.
"Do you still have the dossier?"
"Yes."
"I want it."
"Excuse me?"
"I want the dossier, Eric."
"No."
"That wasn’t a request. I'm telling you that you're going to give me the entire dossier."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll call Kostya," I threatened. "When he's finished, I'll call my dad. If that doesn't work, I'll send Ten to visit you."
Shock filtered across Eric's face. "You're serious."
"I’m protecting my family." I touched his arm. "You included."
"Me? How is threatening me to get that dossier protecting me?"
"Did you ever stop to wonder why this ex-spy chose you? Did you even consider for one second how much trouble you are in now? Those documents that you used to get Nikolai on that list? They were all destroyed under Maksim's orders. He wanted them gone for a reason. Now you've dragged copies that shouldn't exist back out into the light of day, Eric."
My heart raced as I considered the lengths Nikolai's father would go to in order to preserve his standing and Nikolai's. "You have to let me protect you, Eric. Let me see what's in that dossier."
Eric looked at me as if he didn't recognize me. "You've changed. You're…hard."
The reason for that change came to me swiftly. I cover my small baby bump with my hands. "I’m going to be a mother soon. I don't have the luxury of being soft anymore."