BAD APPLE: The Complete Series (Parts 1-5) Page 22

  “Sure. Just don’t make a mess and if you do, call. Can’t have you behind bars when those checks you give me keep the missus in style.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Chapter Four

  Irina

  I’m in shock.

  I can’t believe my eyes as I look back at Vika Leonides and stare into an older version of me. She’s one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on. If this is what Misha sees when he looks at me, I’m surprised the man can go an hour without humping my leg like dog.

  She’s stunning from the top of her dark brown head to her eyes that are shaped just like mine but are a clear, icy green as opposed to my own golden orbs.

  Those I got from Max, I think as I look from Vika to his stern, unsmiling face and back again.

  “You mean…?”

  “Da. Lana is not your mama, Irina. That honor belongs to my Vika,” Max growls, throwing an arm around the woman and pulling her closer when she starts sobbing again and just stares at me in what I can only call awe.

  “Oh God, Max, she’s alive. How?” she whispers so brokenly that I feel my throat clog up and tighten with my own anger.

  Vika Leonides is exactly what I would have wanted in a mother if I had ever in my life needed one. Which I didn’t because my mamen’ka is perfect and everything to me.

  I watch the woman before me both cry and rage as Max Leonides sits there, looking ready to kill with his bare hands. To be honest, while I sorta like the man, he’s a little intimidating.

  “Hush, Vika. Don’t cry, baby. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Talk to me, Irina. Tell me everything. Please,” he says softly. Those golden eyes, the very same eyes I see in the mirror every morning, are focused on me like laser beams. I start talking, telling him everything.

  “You married Misha Novac?”

  “Um, yes.”

  Somehow I get the impression he’s not too torn up about me being tied to that caveman, and I fight a smile at the thought that I married a man who is exactly like my father. The one I just met.

  Max and Misha both have this air of authority and danger, one that may be scary at first but can be sweet. Just look at the way he’s holding on to his wife as if she’s the most precious thing in the world to him.

  “He is a good man.” I keep my snort to myself and just nod.

  “He is. We had a rocky start at first, when, er…when we didn’t see eye to eye about something, and I kind of bailed on him, but he was there when I needed him most. He almost went nuts when that Knife guy stabbed me and he sat with me for days and never left my bedside while I was unconscious.”

  Oh, Misha, what have I done? I think as the foolishness of my actions and stubborn pride slam into me. I should have stayed with him and made things work, demanded more instead of tucking my tail and running like a wimp.

  Max looks ready to murder but just nods as I swallow and force myself to continue, despite what I’m feeling.

  “I’ve been under armed guard since then, and I think Misha and my brother have been running something to catch the Chekovs or whatever their names are. They wanted to just kill them all.” I laugh, watching Max’s face for his reaction.

  The tightening of his mouth is subtle, but I see it and note Vika’s gasp.

  “Oh no, they could not do that, dearest. Any hit of that magnitude has to go through our councils first, or both families would be open to judgement. Misha was right to wait and seek another route. Plus, my family,” she spits, looking so angry that I kinda see where my recent temper comes from, “they wouldn’t hesitate to use it as a way to regain their standing. Slowly but surely is best, though I have to say I have the burning need to go shoot them all and say fuck you to the councils.”

  “Language, baby.”

  Oh God. That’s Misha in an older, slightly less appealing package. Though I gotta say my pops ain’t hard on the eyes, even at fifty.

  “Sorry, but it’s true. Now tell me, Irina, my child, how did you come to be without your protection?”

  “Erm, I kinda had an argument with Misha and gave him the boot and moved out, and then I was living with Tatty but I got sick and I went to the doctor…” I babble, narrowing my eyes when Max starts laughing.

  “God, Vika, my woman, she is just like you.”

  “Oh shush, you old tease. Carry on, Irina.”

  “Uh, I went to the doctor and then today I had to go and get the results of my blood test.”

  Don’t cry.

  How will he react when I tell him?

  The question has me panicking all over again, and I do what I do best as the weight and dread crash down over me, making me freeze deep inside.

  He was so upset the night he lost control and released in me. Upset enough that he looked like the grim reaper was dogging his ass. I know why now. I mean, I’d have to be a complete moron not to understand that my poor baby is terrified of having another child and losing it.

  “Irina, are you okay? What ails you, child?” Max demands when I start hiccupping through my wails.

  He looks so horrified, I want to laugh, quickly losing the urge and snarling when Lincoln runs in, takes one look at me, and rolls his eyes.

  “Don’t panic. She’s a crier. Just pretend it’s not happening and it may stop.”

  Ass!

  “Idiot. You want me to watch my baby cry?” Vika yells, slapping him upside the head before coming to me to enfold me in her arms.

  “What? She’s a crier, Vik. I have firsthand experience here. She started bawling when we passed a pet store. Who knows why!” he mutters, throwing his hands in the air. “Anyway, I just thought you’d want to know that there is a very irate Russian at the gate, and if my memory of my last illegal fight is correct, I do not want to tangle with that motherfucker.”

  “Let him in, Linc, and tell the man to calm down. I don’t need shit right now when my Vika is having a reunion with our daughter.”

  I’m half listening as Lincoln stalks out and leaves us alone, my mind jumping from one place to another. For example, how I ended up on the church steps, almost freezing to death a day after I was born.

  According to Vika, she and Max had a steamy, very tumultuous relationship when they were younger—so wild, in fact, that they’d half kill each other.

  When she found out she was pregnant with me, they’d already broken up and Max had left to spend eight months in Russia with his dying grandfather.

  Vika was heartbroken and pissed and in a bind because her family does not consist of the nicest people. She managed to keep her pregnancy and the affair with a rival family’s head a secret until her sister found out and ran to their father.

  To say they were pissed is an understatement, but she was on the verge of giving birth by that time, so what could they do? She ended up in the hospital, in labor at eight months, almost dying when they had to perform an emergency caesarean and hysterectomy when the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

  This is the part where I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to cry or take a crowbar to her sister’s skull. She woke to the news that her baby had been stillborn. She even buried me in a little ceremony, adding a gravestone and all.

  Vika is as loony as I am and has pictures of the gravesite she visits every week.

  Max eventually came home and found out what had happened and threatened to kill her family that was treating her like garbage and keeping her imprisoned in the house.

  That was twenty-five years ago, and these poor people have been mourning their baby ever since.

  And now here I am, alive and feeling so bad for them that I don’t know how to tell them that I need to leave and go back to my family that loves me. I don’t want to hurt them by abandoning them.

  “Angel!”

  He’s on me before I can draw a startled breath, his lips on mine, hands touching me everywhere—frenzied, shaking, and very inappropriate considering he just copped a feel in front of my birth parents.

  “Are you alright? Where did that
animal touch you? Why were you at the doctor? Are you sick?”

  “Whoa there, tiger, slow down,” I gasp, pushing away a little to look up into his frantic blue eyes. “I’m totally fine.”

  “Fine! Fine? You do not look fine. Your cheek is swollen and there is a bandage on your arm,” he snarls, going off in a spate of Russian as Vika and Max both step back, smiling broadly. “You will come home immediately. Do not argue, Irina Anastasia Novac. This is what happens when I am not obsessively watching you at all times. You do not have the sense to understand the magnitude of what you do. You could have been killed. Again.”

  I’m guessing his noble attempt to let me go is over. Not that I’m complaining, mind you, since just the sight of him has me ready to do a jig. But it is a little annoying that the man thinks he can just walk in here and start laying down the law in front of people who are technically strangers.

  Oh who am I kidding? I totally love this. He’s irrational and intense and showing so much emotion, I feel almost loved. Definitely wanted.

  The rant stops and he’s kissing me again, practically tasting what I had for lunch as he attempts to eat my face off.

  “Ahem.”

  I kiss him back. Hard. Hot. So turned on at this display of unguarded…need? Well, whatever it is, it’s hot and I’m about two seconds from climbing him like a vine and humping his crotch when I hear a bark of laughter and another clearing of a throat—a loud one.

  Misha snarls and kisses me one last time before pulling away and pulling me against his side.

  I’m blushing furiously as I meet my parents’ eyes and see that they’re amused by my whorish moaning just seconds ago.

  “Misha.”

  “Max. Vika. It is good to see you again. I apologize for my rudeness, but…”

  His shrug and the grin Max throws him have my eyes narrowing, but I give up any pretence at annoyance when they come over to hug him and Vadim, who’s valiantly attempting to steal me from Misha’s side for a hug, though the man is doing a fine impression of snarling like a wolf.

  “No need, boy. I can understand since I have my own wife.”

  “We need to talk, Max.”

  “Da. We do. Start by explaining to me how old friends, who I have loved dearly enough to have a son and grandson named after me, have not told me about my daughter.”

  Boy am I glad I’m not him right now.

  Chapter Five

  Misha

  The last thing I would ever want to do is make an enemy of a man like Maximillian Leonides. The man is not only Russian, but Greek, to boot, and houses both extremes of those legendary tempers.

  But after explaining to him that I was not willing to risk losing Irina to him so soon after my marriage had started, the man thawed enough that I no longer had to keep a hand near my gun for fear of losing my life to him. Or losing Irina if the need to shoot him became necessary.

  And I would have if they’d even attempted to tell me I cannot have my wife back. See, the ride to the doctor’s offices and the rest of the journey to the Leonides estate gave me a little time to think, and I’ve completely regained my lost senses.

  Gone is the guilt and shame I felt—not completely, of course—but enough to understand a few very key things about myself and this situation.

  I am not noble or unselfish, and I am no idiot. Irina may hate me and have every reason to, but that will not stop me. She is mine. Mine. Mine. And as such, I will keep her, even if the next sixty years of our life is a constant battle.

  She can hate me. Cry. Beg. I don’t give a fuck. I won’t walk away again or let her leave me. Because I love her, so much that I can love her enough for the both of us.

  With that firmly settled in my mind, I finally felt stable enough to start thinking, and when I did that I realized something very important. I can kill two birds with one stone. All I need to do is get Mina in line.

  There’s only one way to do that, and it’s going to take every power of manipulation and self-control that I have to pull it off without tipping anyone off. Including Irina, because if she ever gets wind of what I am planning, she’ll leave me in a heartbeat.

  Not that I’ll suffer much, because they’ll all kill me and leave my broken body in a ditch somewhere.

  Currently the object of my thoughts is in the kitchen with Vika, attempting to show her how to make her special double chocolate caramel cupcakes so I’m alone with Max, Vadim, and that little shithead Lincoln.

  “I’m just grateful you had your guys on her is all I’m saying,” Vadi says as Max sits back in his chair, the bookcases and dark wood of his study the perfect setting for the man as those golden eyes start burning.

  “I wouldn’t have bothered but for the fact that I had men on Lana after she called Vika a few weeks ago drunk and ranting about the past. As you know, I trust those bastards about as much as you do, and I can’t stand the thought of my wife being associated with them in any way.”

  I get that. Just the thought that Lana’s name is on her birth certificate is enough to make my teeth clench.

  Max must be mad enough to kill right now after having to watch his wife suffer the grief of losing their child and then being incapable of giving him one due to her hysterectomy.

  “What will your play be now, Novac? Their assassin is dead and they have no means to hire an outside contractor.”

  “They do,” I growl, taking another sip of my drink, pacing myself when what I really want to do is chug it and go for more.

  I can feel a tension headache building behind my eyes and at the tight cords in my neck as my next moves play out in my mind.

  To do what I need to do, I either have to take my wife home, as I am dying to do, and pray like hell that my security is up to snuff and another incident like today doesn’t occur. Not that I blame Tony. The man’s already beating himself up for what happened, as it is.

  Or I can leave her here with Max and Vika, knowing that no one will make it past their gates a step without a red dot and some very cold people asking what they ate for breakfast.

  With the adrenalin and the joy of seeing her safe and relatively unscathed settled, I’m coming to the terrible conclusion that I have to leave her here.

  The more I think, the angrier I get at this situation.

  I’ve gone eight fucking days without my woman already and it makes my fury boil knowing I’ll have to be without her longer or risk something happening to her again.

  This latest attempt on her life proves that they’re not going to stop till she’s dead, and that I won’t allow, even if I have to sleep with the devil to accomplish it.

  “Explain,” Max snarls, his fatherly concern making those eyes so deadly, I almost pity Mina for her involvement.

  Almost but not quite when I remember the way she sneered and laughed and insulted my wife all through dinner last night.

  I wanted to throat-punch her and tell her that I like my woman healthy and beautiful, inside and out, even covered in flour and sugar and smelling like bread dough.

  I wanted to yell to the entire restaurant and let her know that I can’t stand the sight of her filled lips and bony ass, and that only one woman makes my cock come to life with just the sound of her laughter.

  “Minanka.”

  Max’s face goes blank, taking on the look of a true killer, and I see his nose flare before he narrows his eyes at me.

  “I told you years ago to get rid of that viper, Misha. You should have listened to Uncle Max instead of feeling guilt over something that is not yours to feel. Minka’s death is her shame to bear.”

  I know that now, after endless nights of thinking and running Irina’s words through my head over and over again. I get it now, and I understand what she was trying to say to me through her tears.

  I’ve held on to something that I shouldn’t have for far too long, my own self-hatred blinding me to the many crimes Mina committed against me and my child.

  But she was wrong in one thing—the one thing I still have to
tell her before I confess my love.

  I haven’t fooled myself into thinking I love Mina for a very long time. I feel nothing for her now but the cold determination to snuff her out since I discovered she is trying to take another loved one from me.

  “Da. You were right, I admit, but what is done is done, Max. Right now I need to use that person to get me what I need so that I can remove my enemies and safeguard Irina for good.”

  “Mish—”

  “Nyet, Vadi. You know what must be done, and as much as it kills me, I need to leave her here where she is protected and keep at Mina. She’s self-assured right now and high on her near victory. If I can just get her to admit to me that she’s the one funding the attempts despite the council’s ousting of her little friends, I can have it all taken care of.”

  I hate it, but for now it’s the best course of action I have.

  “I agree.”

  Vadim snorts and throws Max a rueful smile.

  “Are you sure that’s not just because your wife would start bawling if Ri left her so soon?”

  “Shut up, fool. Of course this would play a part in my thinking since the sight of my wife’s misery makes me near murderous. And that’s besides the fact that Irina is my child, too, you little shit. I may not show it the way these women do, but meeting her, having my child in front of me, has been…a miracle I cannot fully describe. She’s…”

  I grin at his look of awed astonishment. Yes, Irina is completely adorable. Most would look at her and experience her personality and be totally flabbergasted. She’s sweet and funny and most often trying to do something kind for complete strangers.

  Those who don’t know her well enough would never understand, or if they did they’d still be taken aback at her brilliance, because she has no lack of human kindness, something most of us seem to not understand.

  She’s over-the-top nice, quirky, unmanageable, and dramatic.

  In other words, she’s perfect and no one can understand how that can be when it’s all wrapped in a five-something package of smiles and slobbery tears.