Beautiful Russian Monster (A Vancouver Mafia Romance Book 2)

My entire body hurt, so much that I wondered if I had died and gone to hell. I could hear a beep above my head. It took me a moment to realize that I was in a hospital. I heard people murmuring from outside the room. And a distant beep from another bed.

I worked to open my eyes. Raising my head took an inhuman effort. Andrusha sat in the chair beside me.

“Blaire,” I rasped. Was she okay? Was she here? What happened?

He stood up beside me. “She’s sleeping in the waiting room.”

As long as she was safe. I thought back to my last conscious moments. I remembered the moment I had gotten shot. I had managed to get one round off before I had done my damn best to throw Blaire to safety. “Did I hit him?”

“One shot through his heart. They recovered his body yesterday. Since he was a wanted terrorist, and Blaire has the best lawyers in the city, the police won’t be pressing charges. They consider this self-defense.”

I tried to sit up. “I need to find Blaire.”

He pushed me back onto the bed with ease. “The best thing you can do for her is get back on your feet. She’s been worried sick.”

“I want to see her.” I was struggling to form my words.

I could feel myself sinking back into the darkness.

“Just shut your eyes, and when you wake up, she’ll be here.”

“Feed my cat.” My eyelids drifted shut. “Bea likes to be scratched under the chin.”

“Bullshit you got a cat—you hate cats.”

And then everything went dark.

The next time I woke up, I was being prodded by a doctor.

“Welcome back, Viktor. I’m Dr. Jane Sexton, the chief of general surgery. How are you feeling?”

My eyes moved around the room. “Where’s Blaire?”

“I think her grandmother dragged her down to the cafeteria. Your surgery went well. The bullet fragmented off your plated vest, but a large chunk of bullet found its way into your abdomen. Miraculously, it hit no major organs. We had some complications finding it and three other small pieces, but we removed all the pieces laparoscopically. You’re on strong antibiotics, but so far, no sign of infection. Are you in any pain?”

My body felt like it had been run over by a truck. “No more than usual.” I tried to sit up but failed. “When can I get out of here?”

She moved to adjust my IV line. “If you can manage not to get an infection, and if you’re able to walk, eat and do all the things we need you to do, you should be able to go home within three to five days. You’re going to need to take it easy for a few weeks, but you’re making a remarkable recovery so far. I’m going to give you something for the pain.”

The pain meds would help me walk. I needed to go find Blaire. “You said Blaire is in the cafeteria?”

“Give me a moment, and I’ll ask one of the staff to find her.”

I lay there and waited, hanging on as long as I could, but against my will, the drugs she gave me pulled me back into the dark void.

My extreme thirst woke me. I opened my eyes, but I felt so weak I couldn’t even lift my head. Blaire’s grandmother looked back at me with a steady gaze.

My mouth was so dry it felt like I had been drinking dust. “Where’s Blaire?”

“She just drove home quick to shower and put on fresh clothes. She’s been sitting vigil by your side for two days now.”

I saw a water pitcher and glass on the table near the end of my bed. I reached for it, but my weak arm barely made it off the bed.

The older woman stood, carefully poured water into a glass, brought the glass to me, and put the straw near my mouth.

I sucked greedily, gulping down the entire glass. Exhausted, I lay back on the pillows.

“Thank you.” I could already feel the water reviving me. “You don’t have to be here.”

She sat back down. “Blaire wouldn’t take five minutes for herself unless I promised not to leave your side, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“How is she?”

“Worried sick, naturally.”

I let out a long breath. “Protect her.”

“I think Andrusha has that covered.” She delicately cleared her throat. “We need to talk.”

I almost knew what was coming. This was the point where Blaire’s grandmother asked me to stay out of Blaire’s life. “Okay.”

“The night Blaire went missing, you’re the one who stole her out of her bed.”

I swallowed and looked at her with shame in my eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And you started a brawl at my husband’s funeral, and then when Pierre started hitting you, you didn’t even try to fight back.”

I eyed her. “How do you know that?”

She gave me a reproachful look. “My neighbors showed me their closed camera footage of that day. I’m still having nightmares about what you let Pierre do to your face.”

“Did Blaire see the footage?”

“She’s under the illusion that it was a fair fight.”

“Maybe I deserved to be hit.”

She leaned forward and grabbed my arm, reminding me of Blaire. “There is nothing you did or didn’t do that deserved that. And to make matters worse, it made Blaire cry.”

I couldn’t hold her gaze. “That was never my intention.”

She switched gears. “Blaire has been fairly reticent about your past, so I would like to hear about it from you.”

“I used to be in the mafia, here in Vancouver. The Russian mafia. Andrusha was my boss.”

Her eyes widened in surprised. “Our Andrusha? The charming one who’s been bringing me tea and muffins and taking care of me?”

No one ever accused me of being charming. “Yes.”

She sat back with a sigh. “Oh, dear.”

Her mannerisms reminded me so much of Blaire it hurt. “I’m aware that I’m not the best candidate for your granddaughter.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“I tried to push her away.”

“Which gives you honor.”

“Not enough.”

She pursed her lips, thinking. “The light has gone out of Blaire, and I have a feeling you’re the only one who can turn it back on.”

Something hard cracked inside my chest. “She deserves better than someone with my history.”

“My granddaughter deserves to be loved and cherished. And she deserves to be protected and valued. Can you do that, Viktor?”

“I would die trying.”

Unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears, and then she gave me a formal nod. “Well, I’ve seen the extent of your sacrifices to protect her, so I think I can overlook the kidnapping and your history—on one condition.”

I could feel my heart pound in my chest with raw hope. “Anything.”

“You need to turn the light back on in Blaire. If you can’t do that—I want you gone.”

I had never begged for anything in my life, but I couldn’t keep the plea out of my voice. “I need to see her.”

She gave me a wry look. “She’s going to be mad as a hatter that she missed you being awake.”

“I’ll stay awake for her.”

Her laughter reminded me again of an older version of Blaire. “Okay, dear, that sounds good. But if you sleep, she’ll be here when you wake up.”

I woke up, and, for the first time in a long time, I felt almost human. I lifted my head. Curled up in the chair next to my bed, Blaire slept. Her head was lolling crookedly to one side, making me wince on her behalf.

“Hey,” I croaked.

She opened her eyes. Our eye contact felt like pure sunshine. Her smile was more beautiful than any other smile before hers.

“Are you okay?” I rasped.

She stood up and moved to my side. She touched my face, my chest, my arms, my hands. “You’ve come back.”

“I’m back.”

The last time I had seen her, I was bleeding out on a ledge and she had to face her greatest fear by herself. “You went into the air shaft. You saved me.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she worked to not cry. “It was a team effort.”

“Hey,” I soothed, reaching for her wrist, loving the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingertips.

“I’m not sad.” She shook her head. “I’m so happy.”

“Don’t cry,” I told her. “Your grandma told me that if I didn’t make you happy, I couldn’t be with you.”

She froze, and then she started to laugh through her tears. “What?”

“She had the talk with me.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her beautiful face. “But if I can’t make you happy, I promised her I’d leave.”

She went completely still. “You make me happy.”

“You don’t know that yet.”

“I do.”

I thought about my words, speaking slowly. “I’ve been fighting this, Blaire. I feel like I’m not enough for you. I have such a dark past.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“Look how my past has already tainted so much in your life. Look what it cost you.”

“You’re talking about my grandfather.”

“He died on my watch.”

“I’ve given this a lot of thought. I think if we hadn’t gone to get him, that group of men would have killed him and maybe dumped his body somewhere. When he died, he would have been so alone, and we might never have found out what happened to him.” She took a deep breath. “I wanted us to save him. Despite your best efforts, he was still murdered—but at least I got to say goodbye and he died with me holding him. That means something to me.”

I had to work to speak past the lump in my throat. “But you told me to call the police that night. I didn’t. That could have saved him.”

She scowled. “The police would have made the situation worse.”

She meant what she said, but I wasn’t sure if I could accept her forgiveness. “I needed to save him.”

She touched my face with both her hands. “You saved me. Isn’t that enough?”

I realized in that moment that I had two choices. I could focus on what I’d lost or what I’d saved. I had always focused on what I had lost as reason to drive myself harder and push myself past my limits, but I realized if I couldn’t let go of those losses, I might forfeit what I had saved—along with any chance of happiness.

I was humbled by Blaire, by her generous spirit and her ability to love so easily. “You really think this can work?”

She gave a half laugh while tears glimmered in her eyes. “Look what we just survived together. We can handle anything.”

This was my moment, my one chance at happiness. If I didn’t say yes, I would face a life without joy. “If we do this, we need to do this right.”

Her eyes lit up. “What does that mean?”

“For starters, I’m going to take you on a proper date.”

A week later, I parked my car in front of the huge house, the place where this all started. An embarrassingly large bouquet of flowers sat on the passenger seat beside me. I could feel myself sweating.

Swearing lightly under my breath, I got out of the car and looked down at my dark jeans and button-down shirt. I should have dressed up more, but it had been a choice between this and my one suit. The jeans won. Now, I mentally berated myself for not making more of an effort.

It’s only dinner at your place.

I reached in and grabbed the bouquet, momentarily debating if I should forget the flowers and shove them in the trunk.

Move it, soldier.

My feet crunched on the gravel beneath my feet. It was stupid that I was feeling this unnerved. Blaire had seen me at my absolute worst.

This is different.

I knew how to protect her, but her grandmother’s words weighed heavily in my chest. I wasn’t sure I knew how to make her happy.

The whine of an expensive engine roared up the road, and a small red convertible swung in between the doorway and me.

Pierre.

He got out of the car and only caught sight of me when he turned to shut the car door. He looked between the flowers in my hand and my pressed shirt.

“Oh, have you moved into the flower-delivery business? Good idea. You’re probably better suited for this line of work.”

I didn’t even blink. “Don’t you ever go away?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

Ignoring him, I moved around his car and toward the door.

He grabbed my arm. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

It was time someone spoke the truth to this guy. “Blaire and I have a date.”

He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “You really are delusional, aren’t you?”

I itched to deal with Pierre my way, but I was well aware that he was a close family friend of the Asterdams, so I worked to be diplomatic, even though the words tasted bitter coming out of my mouth. “No hard feelings, okay?”

He laughed again. “No hard feelings?” He dramatically paused. “Do you actually think I’m going to let you near her?”

“I don’t think you have much choice.”

“Now that Edward is gone—no thanks to you—these two women need a real man. They need someone to keep the family shipping business moving forward.”

Unease slid across my gut. “You think that’s your role?”

“Well, it’s not going to be you, now, is it?” He stepped forward, speaking in a soft voice. “If you really care for her the way you think you do, the best thing you can do for her is walk away.”

He was speaking my deepest fears out loud. “Time for you to shut up.”

“You don’t know this world, do you?” He looked up at the mansion in front of us. “These two move in some pretty elite circles.”

I held his gaze and didn’t move a muscle, but I remembered the judge and the mayor at the funeral. The kind of people who hated men like me.

He stared into my eyes. “How do you expect to fit in? You’re going to be expected to dine among the upper echelons of society and discuss things like the ballet season, index and market futures, and which groomer got fired at the McKenzies’ stables. You don’t know this world. You would drown, and you would bring Blaire down with you—like all drowning men do.”

I hated that every time I spoke to Pierre, he spoke the truth of my doomed relationship with Blaire. “Why do you care?”

“I care because she’s mine. Mine to date and mine to marry. I’ve had my eye on her since I met her. She’s everything a man could want.”

He was feeding my self-doubt by the shovelful. If I got the sense that he truly loved her, then maybe I could find the strength to walk away, knowing I had done the right thing.

“Which is?”

“She’s a beautiful, stylish woman, and any man would be proud to have her on his arm.”

Pierre hadn’t once mentioned how Blaire’s constant curiosity drove her toward everything interesting in life. He didn’t bring up her adorable, never-ending questions that often drew attention to things other people didn’t notice. He didn’t talk about her incredible resilience, which allowed her to survive the worst of circumstances with a smile. Or her instinct to reach out with a soft hand in dark moments, when her touch was needed most.

“I don’t like your answer,” I told him.

“I don’t give a shit.”

Who was I kidding? I could never let this idiot near her. When it came to Blaire, I was all in. Maybe I was dating way out of my league, but I would show up every single time until she told me I was no longer welcome.

In the meantime, I needed to deal with Pierre. “Time for you to leave.”

He looked amused. “You really want a repeat performance?”

“You don’t love her. Not the way she deserves to be loved.”

“My feelings are none of your business.”

“Blaire’s happiness is my business.”

He pushed up his sleeves. “I didn’t want it to come to this, Viktor. I’m giving you one chance here to do the right thing. You get in your car, and you don’t come back. No questions asked.”

I tried not to laugh. “And if I don’t?”

“You don’t remember the last time we fought?”

I cracked my knuckles. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He started the dance in front of me, his fists up in front of his face like a boxer. “Come on, then. Let’s go.”

I stepped back and laid the bouquet on the trunk of his car. “Take your best shot.”

Without warning, he swung. But at the last second, I moved my head back, causing him to miss. Grunting, he swung again, but that shot was also easy to duck.

He kept swinging, and I kept faking him out, until he was panting with effort.

“Come on, Pierre. If you want to hit me, you have to make contact.”

“Quick fucking moving,” he grunted, as his fist narrowly missed my chin.

I parroted his patronizing words back at him. “Now, I’m going to give you one chance to get into your car. No questions asked.”

“And if I say no?”

I punched him hard in the jaw once, a hit that left him staggering back in shock. He gripped his chin with his hand. “Bloody hell.”

I motioned with one hand for him to engage. “Come on, let’s go.”

This time he came in angry, which left the right side of his body wide open. While he swung and lightly connected with my chin, I hit him twice, very hard, in the ribs.

It almost took him down. He groaned and clutched his side while he worked to catch his breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was twisted with pain. “Screw you.”

“Just get in the car. This isn’t going to go well for you.”

My words seemed only to infuse him with more angry emotion. “Fuck you.”

I let his fist connect with my upper ribs so I could find the opportunity to hit him in the face. I battered him hard—not enough to shatter bone or anything, but enough that he’d be cursing my name every time he looked in the mirror for the next couple weeks. I was considerate. I made sure I didn’t permanently damage his eyes or his teeth. His nose, though, was open season.

It was now spurting blood through his hands.

“You broke my nose.” His voice was muffled behind his hands.

“I just rearranged it slightly.”

The front door flew open, and Blaire stood on the front steps, looking breathtaking in a soft pink dress with a bow at her waist. She looked between Pierre and me.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“What happened is this man is a savage. He attacked me like an animal.” Pierre pointed a bloody, accusing finger at me.

“I didn’t attack him,” I told her. “He started it.”

“He’s only here for your money. That’s what he just told me,” Pierre insisted. “This guy is a money-grubbing lowlife who wants to latch onto you like you’re his meal ticket.”

Her eyes found mine. “Why did you hit him?”

I spoke the truth. “He doesn’t love you the way I do.”

She made a noise, and then she flew down the steps and into my arms. Nothing felt more right or perfect that the feeling of holding her in my arms.

Pierre completely forgotten, we stared at each other.

“You love me?” she asked.

“You know I do.”

“He’s lying, Blaire,” Pierre yelled. “This man is a liar.”

She didn’t even look at him when she spoke. “Viktor doesn’t lie.”

I looked over her head at Pierre. “Beat it.”

He pointed his finger at me. “Fuck you.” But he wisely got into his car and, with a roar of the engine, gunned it down the driveway. Blaire’s bouquet flew off, and flowers broke as it rolled to a stop.

“Are those for me?”

“They were.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her beautiful face. I had never before told a woman I loved her, but now that the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to shout them repeatedly from rooftops.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

Her responding smile felt like a light so bright that it cast out even the darkest shadows from my heart. “It took you long enough to tell me.”

“You have something to say back?”

She laughed as she tightened her arms around my waist. “Viktor Mikhailov, I love you with all my heart.”

Right there I decided I would do everything in my power to make sure she never stopped saying those words.

“You sure about this?”

“Pretty sure,” she teased.