Chapter 35: Chapter Thirty-Five

Frankie leaned back against the elevator wall while Gloria stood beside him with her arms crossed. She was wearing tight yoga pants that made her ass look damn near impossible to ignore. Under normal circumstances, he might have pushed her against the wall and spent the majority of the ride digging his fingers into that round ass. Instead, the light humor they’d expressed while in the sanctuary of his home had been replaced by silence and an edge of dread. Something felt off in the air. A change in energy. A drop in air pressure like a storm about to peek over the horizon that would tear their little ship to shreds.

He scrolled through his security again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. His cameras didn’t catch everything though. Sergei was in town. Frankie had killed most of his men, stolen his woman and hurt his man. He had done far worse, yet the man he’d gone against in this scenario didn’t forgive. He wouldn’t get away unscathed… Neither would Gloria. He felt Gloria move closer and glanced down to see the hairs on her arm standing on end.

“You feel it too?” he asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

“Something’s off,” she agreed.

“Beauty and brains,” Frankie complimented, whipping out his coping mechanism like a coat on a blustery day. “First thing I learned as an outsider to this world…” Frankie pulled his handgun from his back pocket and tested the weight to ensure it was fully loaded. “Trust your gut.”

The elevator dinged, announcing they’d made it to the main level. He stepped out into the foyer. Nothing wrong here. He shook himself off like a dog who had spent his whole life with fleas skittering across his skin. He gave Gloria a smile of reassurance he knew didn’t reach his eyes, and opened the door to the lobby.  The door opened and Frankie glanced up. He resisted the urge to hold his hand out in warning to Gloria. He resisted the urge to look at the four bodies littered across the floor. He resisted the urge to raise his gun and fire. He resisted every fiber of his training to stare across the space at the man with light blue eyes, dirty-blond hair and a hanging scar that ran along his throat. If Frankie had only learned one lesson in life, it was to never break eye-contact with Sergei Vaseliev.

Frankie held eye-contact until Sergei’s shark-like gaze swiveled to Gloria who stood frozen behind him. Frankie held on to every survival instinct he’d developed in his life to strut out of the elevator foyer as though he had zero cares in the world. Meanwhile, his mind worked as though it was a data center and the stock market was a moment away from collapse. He could feel Gloria hanging back. He could feel her fear radiating out of her like a physical being. He noticed the men at Sergei’s feet all had their throats slashed and a bullet to the heart from behind: classic Sergei. He was alone. Bold. Kinda hot.

The four dead men were the security detail Frankie had personally trained. Which was a shame, as he’d put a lot of his nonexistent free time into the project. He didn’t know where Juniper was but could surmise that if she didn’t have time to trip the alarm system, she was probably dead. Sergei continued to stare daggers at Gloria, completely ignoring Frankie as he approached.

“Vasiliev, I would say this is a surprise, but I suppose anyone would be shocked at how long it took you to get here,” Frankie joked, now standing a few feet away from the Pakhan.

Sergei’s light eyes cut to him and burned. “Donati,” Sergei answered back with a tilt of his head as he inspected him. “You’ve killed my men. You’ve taken my future wife. I would have thought you’d know better by now than to cross me.”

“Accardi tried to train me but I don’t respond well to being whacked on the nose with a newspaper. I told him to use a taser like you’d do with Asher, but he saw how it turned him into a whimpering puddle of a man and decided against it,” Frankie mocked.

“I’ve come for what’s mine. Then I’ll kill you and be on my way,” Sergei announced as if he were bored out of his mind and just wanted to go home. He never had much patience for Frankie’s comedy.

“Gloria,” Frankie called.

His tone was neutral but firm. He knew one of two things would happen: One, she would take it as a command to leave and hit the elevator button for his apartment like it was her newly discovered g-spot until the doors closed and whisked her away to safety. Or two…

Gloria’s fingers fitted between his own as she stepped up on his left. The statement was obvious to anyone with eyes. But her statement didn’t end there. Gloria stepped forward and to her right, placing her head directly over his heart as she stood between him and the Russian mobster. She wasn’t just on his side… she was standing directly in the path of a kill shot. Frankie resisted the urge to push his half chub against her tight yoga-pants-wearing ass for the possessive gesture. Frankie looked up from the top of her head to Sergei’s glare of hatred. Frankie had never seen Sergei show so much emotion. He was proud of himself for being able to crack the facade of the nearly unshakable Russian.

“Gloria, skazhi mne, chto ty ne byla nastol'ko glupa, chtoby dobrovol'no poyti s etim ublyudkom, —Tell me you weren’t stupid enough to willingly go with this bastard.— ,” Sergei demanded.

“On byl ochen' ubeditelen, kogda ubil tvoikh lyudey i raznes tvoy dom vdrebezgi, — He was very convincing when he killed your men and blew your house to pieces.—” Gloria spat back.

Frankie wanted so badly to add something. It took every ounce of restraint he could muster to not join their conversation. Gloria didn’t know he spoke Russian… or seven other languages for that matter. Stupidity and ignorance were advantages. Ones that he utilized at every opportunity, even to his own boss. He would reveal his secret when it served his interest. Now? He wanted to hear what his little vixen had to say while thinking he wasn’t listening.

“On tebya pogubil? – Did he ruin you? –,” Sergei asked.

“Vy sprashivayete na etot raz? Osval'd zanyat s drugimi patsiyentami? O, podozhdite, vso verno, on mortv naverkhu, v kvartire mistera Donati. –You’re asking this time? Is Oswald busy with other patients? Oh, wait, that’s right, he’s dead upstairs in Mr. Donati’s apartment.–”

“Sudya po tomu, chto Donati do sikh por ne podnyal pistolet, Osval'd, dolzhno byt', vol sebya prilichno i, po krayney mere, molchal. Ty zhe ponimayesh', chto ty vsego lish' razmennaya moneta, da? On prosto khochet tebya ispol'zovat'. – Judging by the way Donati hasn’t raised his gun yet, I’m guessing Oswald behaved himself and kept his mouth shut, at least. You understand you’re just a bargaining chip, right? He only wants to use you.–”

“V otlichiye ot togo, chto ty khochesh' so mnoy sdelat'? –Unlike what you want to do with me?–”

“YA vizhu, chto vremya, provedennoye vdali ot doma, ne uluchshilo tvoyego nastroya. –I can see time spent away from home hasn’t improved your attitude.–”

“Naprotiv. U menya tochno takoye zhe otnosheniye. Tol'ko seychas menya podtalkivayut vyskazat' yego. – On the contrary. My attitude is exactly the same. I’m just now being encouraged to voice it. –”

“Ty poydosh' so mnoy. Seychas, – You’re coming with me. Now. –,” Sergei said, taking a step forward.

Frankie raised his gun and pointed it directly between Sergei’s eyes and the Russian did the same. Gloria pressed herself more firmly to Frankie’s chest. “Net. Ty bol'she ne vlasten nad moyey zhizn'yu, Sergei. YA vybirayu yego. – No. You no longer hold power over my life, Sergei. I’m choosing him. –”

Gloria reached her free hand around Frankie’s torso and snatched a second gun from his waist band. Frankie nearly stumbled forward a step as she pulled it away from his body but her hand was steady as she leveled it at Sergei’s unprotected chest.

Frankie smirked and wrapped his arm around her shoulders before resting his chin on the top of her head. “You two all caught up?” he asked.

Sergei’s eyes remained on Gloria, the hatred alone enough to ignite the world and burn it to the ground. She trembled in fear beneath Frankie’s arm but she remained rooted, firm.

“Trouble in paradise?” Frankie asked after a moment of silence.

Sergei glanced up. “You hurt my second. You’ve killed my men. You’ve violated a contract,” Sergie growled. “You have stolen a naive little girl.”

“I’m guessing you listed that in order of importance? Is Asher okay? Poor fellow looked a bit haggard last time I saw him.”

“I should have killed you that day.”

“No argument here. But, alas,” Frankie said with a heavy sigh. “Here we are. Guns pointed at each other’s heads and a person you care for shielding me from your wrath. Just like old times.”

“There’s one difference.”

“A pair of tits?”

“I’ve learned from my mistakes,” Sergei hissed. He lowered his gun and tucked it in his chest holster. “Meeting in two days at the cafe on Second. Nine o’clock. Bring your owner.”

Then Sergei did something Frankie would have never been foolish enough to place a bet on: the mobster turned his back, and walked away.