Arranged Mafia Daddy

Chapter 18Viktor

18

Viktor

T he man in the blue suit. That’s what he’s been nicknamed until we find out more about him.

I’d like that to be quick because he’s been on my mind since Johnny mentioned him yesterday. I may have even had a dream about him, but the details of that are blurry. I don’t like trying to remember my dreams because they’re so often nightmares.

“That’s a cop if I ever saw one,” Pasha says, placing a glossy print of the security footage on the table. “This is the best image we have of him. Clear facial features, probably not too difficult to locate if we have enough eyes on the street, unless he came from out of town.”

Ivan rubs his chin, then shakes his head. “Not a cop.”

“How do you know that?” I ask him, frowning at the picture. It certainly looks like it could be a cop. The blonde hair that Johnny mentioned is buzzed so short he might as well be bald. He’s muscular too, and has all the markings of an undercover agent.

Ivan continues shaking his head, placing a stubby finger on the photo and tapping on it. “Cops don’t wear Hermès.”

I lean in, and sure enough, I make out the familiar H buckle of a Hermès belt. “Good eye,” I mutter.

Pasha looks disappointed, but progress is progress. We can’t let our pride get in the way here.

While I’m relieved that the police aren’t snooping around in our casino, it bothers me deeply that someone with a lot of money is leaking information at my casino. Whoever this is wants to play the mastermind by setting up situations that could result in my death. They’re being so indirect about it, though, which leads me to believe they’re afraid of getting caught.

Our forces in the city are large, so they must be a smaller competitor, someone who doesn’t want to be wiped off the face of the planet once we discover who they are.

But coming into my club and appearing on camera was a bad move. Maybe he thought we didn’t keep tapes because this is an illegal gambling ring, but I keep records of everything. Even in my own home, there are no fewer than a hundred hidden microphones around the house, recording every conversation, no matter how quiet it is.

Now, I’m never driven to listen to them. I simply don’t have the time, but when something like this comes up, I have records. Everything is tracked.

“So, he’s someone rich who doesn’t like you,” Sage says, patting me on the back. “I don’t suppose that narrows it down any.”

“Not really,” I reply, shaking my head. I start to pull a cigar out of my pocket, but then I remember what Sage said about my health. She’s right more times than I care to admit. I don’t want to die before I can see our children grow into adults.

Even more so, I don’t want to leave her alone in this cruel world.

I slide the cigar back into my pocket, trying to hide my movement by adjusting the lapel on my suit jacket. “We’ll have eyes all around the city looking for him. If he shows his face in any restaurant, club, bar or park, we’ll know about it.”

Sage rubs my back, and I feel a little shimmer of warmth inside of me. It’s nice to know that someone is supporting me, not just physically, but emotionally. It’s something I haven’t felt since I lost my family.

My chest tightens when I think about it. I don’t know why, but the memories have been coming up more often, and it’s eating me up inside. I thought I was done thinking about it, that it was a distant memory of a past that’s barely even mine.

But it does belong to me. The boy that witnessed all of that is still inside of me, and he can’t be contained as well. He’s stronger because of Sage, empowered by her sensitive nature.

I don’t hate that boy, but I wished he didn’t exist. Even he wished he didn’t exist growing up, to the point where he almost killed himself when he was nineteen.

If he had, I wouldn’t be here, so I can’t hold anything against him. I don’t wish for him to die, I just wish he’d leave me alone. I’m past all that. My family is gone and they’re never coming back.

“Are you okay?” Sage whispers, and I realize everyone is looking at me.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, shaking the tension out of my body. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about the man in the blue suit. We need to find him.”

“We’re on it,” Pasha says, offering a reassuring smile.

For some reason, it makes me angry. Everyone is looking at me like I have a problem, like I need to be pitied and coddled, and it’s pissing me the hell off. All I’m doing is standing here, sweating a little, and they think I’m having a meltdown over the man in the blue suit.

This isn’t about him, though. Nobody but me knows what it’s really about, and they never will.

I turn away from them, grabbing Sage by her arm and pulling her away from the conference table. “Business is done. We have other matters to attend to today,” I grumble.

I can sense the tension in the room as I leave with Sage, but nobody says anything. Their unspoken words hang in the air like the humidity after a rainfall. I can barely breathe because of it. I need some fresh air and a goddamn cigar.

I fish it out of my pocket as we exit the meeting room, slipping it between my lips while letting go of Sage’s arm. She shakes me off, taking a step back and looking at me as I pull out a lighter. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” I grumble, lighting my cigar. I feel more comfortable hidden in a cloud of smoke.

“Your face is really red,” she says.

“Then stop looking at it.”

She folds her arms over her chest, glaring at me. “You’re such a grump sometimes.”

“And you’re quite nosey.”

She slaps my arm lightly, which I’m surprised by. I thought she’d have learned her lesson from the spanking earlier, but it seems like that’s only made her bolder. I have to shut this little scene down before she starts to think she can do whatever she wants to me.

“We’re going to the car,” I bark, grabbing her arm before she can smack me again. “Come on.”

“Stop it! Viktor, you can’t treat your wife like this,” she says as I pull her along.

I ignore her, bitter emotions coming to the surface and flooding out everything else. All I can think about is how terrible I feel, and that she’s the one responsible for it. I hate her so much for making me feel like this.

“Shut your mouth and come with me,” I growl, pulling her out the door and onto the sidewalk. The car is waiting there, but Ivan is still inside the building. No worries. I’ll be the one driving this time.

I tear open the car door, pushing Sage inside before ducking in after her. I jump over her into the driver’s seat, pressing the button to start and immediately shifting into drive. My foot is on the accelerator before either of us has the chance to put on our seatbelts.

“Slow down!” she pleads, fumbling with her belt.

“I need you to shut the hell up,” I reply, swerving onto the road and narrowly missing another car. Their horn blares, and I stick my middle finger up in the rearview mirror.

“Are you crazy? What the hell has gotten into you?” Sage says, her voice tight with anxiety.

“I told you to behave, and you seem to think that means running your mouth,” I growl. “I’ve warned you one too many times already.”

She falls silent, but when my eyes flicker over to her, I see that she’s glaring at me. I’m always the bad guy, even when I’m not trying to be, so I’m used to this treatment. It just hurts coming from someone who I thought was on my side.

A minute passes, but Sage is persistent. She’s not willing to be silent the entire trip home. “Can you at least tell me why you freaked out?” she asks softly.

“I didn’t freak out.”

“You were sweating and all red in the face. I was worried about you,” she replies.

“Why would you be worried about me?” I snap. “I ruined your life.”

She laughs. “You’re obviously still freaking out, Viktor. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

“I don’t.”

She shrugs, but as we arrive at the house, I sense I’m not going to be able to get out of having a real conversation with her about my past. First, however, I need to blow off some steam in the best way I know how…