Chapter 49: Chapter Forty-Nine

Present

“Gloria?”

Gloria jumped in her chair and spun to face Frankie who lounged in the doorway to his security room. He cocked an eyebrow up and his smile shifted to a frown of concern. His eyes moved to the screen, still showcasing the picture of his family.

“Not able to crack the code?” he asked, assuming she was trying to hack his system, not having a flashback to one of the worst days of her life.

She looked back at the screen, and saw Stephen’s carefree smile. A tear slid down her cheek. “Frankie, I…”

The chair spun slightly and Frankie knelt down in front of her. His hands slid up her thighs in reassurance. “Don’t worry, Vixen. It’s a hard one. I’ll teach you how to hack into…”

“No,” she whispered.

He looked again to the screen and back. “Oh.”

“He was such a…”

His grip on her thighs tightened, silencing her. He shook his head, his jaw firm and his eyes closed off. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t. Not now. Not today.”

“We need to talk about it. I need to tell you…”

“Not today,” he whispered again, his voice showcasing a desperation she’d never heard before. He reached up and swiped his thumb across her cheek to remove a stray tear before cupping her face in the same palm. He sighed and ran his thumb across her cheek again. “We have to go.”

Her brows furrowed. “Where?”

He chuckled. “Our meeting with your fiance. He’s moved it up a few hours. Classic disorientation tactic,” Frankie said with a snort.

“Oh.” She looked at the clock on the wall. Jesus, she’d been sitting at his desk for hours. Then her stomach churned. “Oh. Do I have to go?” she asked.

He smirked. “‘Fraid so. It’s time to take control, Gloria. You deserve to be there to negotiate your own life.” Frankie stood and held his hand down for her. “Don’t worry, you’ll have some of the best men in the country at your side. Nothing is going to happen to you. Let’s get you dressed.”

Outside of the apartment building stood an SUV and three very dangerous looking men: Mr. Accardi himself, his bodyguard and the manager of Accardi’s club. They all turned to watch the couple stroll out of the building.

Mr. Accardi checked his watch and sighed. “About fucking time,” he growled.

“Hey, I invited you up. It’s not my fault you can’t handle an elevator ride,” Frankie said, coming to Gloria’s defense.

Accardi’s eyes narrowed in warning. “We’re late. Let’s go,” he said, flicking the cigarette he held between his fingers onto the sidewalk.

Accardi opened the passenger door and got in while his bodyguard took the driver’s seat. The club manager climbed into the back seat and as Gloria followed in behind, Frankie caught her arm.

“Get in the back, Louis,” Frankie ordered.

Louis looked at him with confusion. “Huh?”

Frankie bobbed his head toward the small third row seating that even a child would have a hard time fitting into. “Back. You’re not sitting next to my girl.”

Gloria cleared her throat. “I can…”

“Hush, Vixen,” Frankie murmured.

Louis rolled his eyes. “I’m not sitting in the back. If you don’t want me next to her, then you sit in the middle.”

“There is no way in hell…” Frankie began.

“Jesus Christ, Louis, get in the back. We have places to be,” Accardi demanded.

Frankie gave Louis a triumphant grin to which Louis rolled his eyes. Louis mumbled to himself as he climbed over the seat and flopped into the back.

“Grumble all you want,” Frankie said while helping Gloria inside. “Consider it punishment for what you did to my baby.”

“It was a fucking scratch,” Louis hissed, trying to situate his long legs.

“A scratch that cost $500 to buff out,” Frankie said as the car moved away from the curb.

A flurry of bills rained down over the second row seating and Frankie smiled like an idiot as he collected the $500 Louis had just thrown at him. “Thank you,” he said, stacking the bills together, folding them in half and then tucking them into Gloria’s bra with a wink. “Hold onto that for me. I’m sure we’ll need it later.”

It took far too little time to arrive at the diner Sergei had selected for their meeting. Her fingers tapped incessantly on her thigh until Frankie’s hand snaked out and gripped them firmly. She should feel safe surrounded by the dangerous men in the SUV. Men who would defend her with their lives for no other reason than Frankie had taken a liking to her. Instead, years of grooming to be Sergei’s other half fought to take back the few months of independence she’d gained. She couldn’t stop the nerves any more than she could keep her eyes from falling to her lap in a submissive pose. The car pulled to a stop but as the men in the front got out, Frankie took Gloria’s chin firmly in his hand.

“Don’t,” he warned her with a shake of his head. “Don’t cower, don’t show fear, you’re with me now. You hold your head high. You know your power, Gloria.” Frankie leaned down and kissed her roughly until she was out of breath.

“Alright. I think having to watch that makes us even. Do you mind?” Louis asked.

Frankie winked and followed the other two men out of the car. He opened her door for her and extended his hand for her to take. Her eyes immediately fell on several men standing at attention by the front of the nearly empty diner: Sergei’s men. They glared down at her, ignoring the group she’d come with. She felt herself shrink beneath their gazes. She could practically hear their contempt. ‘The pretty little Russian princess who thought herself too good for their boss.’ The group walked into the diner without being stopped.

A table had been set up in the back, away from windows and prying eyes. Gloria’s feet threatened to stall but Frankie’s hand on her back kept her moving. The moment Sergei looked up, Gloria’s skin tingled with fear. His bright eyes cut her to the bone with his anger, his frustration, his… possession. Beside him sat Asher, whose eyes were fastened on Frankie. From under the table she could barely make out the cast on his leg. The two men were bracketed by two of Sergei’s higher officials: his accountant and his lawyer.

“No pat downs?” Frankie asked, holding the chair out on the other side of the lawyer for her to take. As she settled in, she felt him place a soft kiss to the top of her head. She could practically feel the satisfied smirk on his face as Sergei’s entire demeanor shifted at the intimate gesture. “I have to say I was disappointed. I was looking forward to a good fondling.”

“What is she doing here?” Sergei asked, his eyes still boring into hers. It took every ounce of courage she could muster to not look away. Frankie sat down and squeezed her thigh, reminding her not to cower.

“Shit, Accardi, did we get our days mixed up? I thought we were meant to be discussing her contract but maybe I got that mixed up with our running mahjong tournament?”

“Good thing I always keep the tiles in the car,” Accardi assured him.

Sergei’s eyes narrowed and finally left hers to glare at Frankie. With his light eyes no longer focused on her, she could finally breathe.

“This doesn’t concern her,” Sergei growled.

“She stays,” Frankie clapped back.

“Why are you even speaking? This contract was signed by myself, Ivan and Accardi. Yet you sit in front of me?”

“I’ve given Mr. Donati the right to negotiate on my behalf,” Mr. Accardi announced casually, his countenance one of supreme boredom but his hazel eyes sharp and missing nothing.

“I suppose it’s true what they’ve been saying. Your wife has made you weak,” Sergei spat.

Mr. Accardi didn’t take the bait, he merely smiled, the brief showing of his teeth more like a snarl from a feral dog, like Sergei had just been added to some mental list of foes he intended to impale at the end of an already bloody spit.

“Lookin’ good, Asher… Well, sort of,” Frankie said, deviating the conversation.

Asher preened beneath Frankie’s regard. Gloria’s eyes narrowed at the man. He seemed completely different than any other time she’d encountered him. He did not look like the man who promised to tear her apart the night of her wedding to Sergei. He didn’t look like the man who stalked her in the shadows, bragging about his most recent sale of guns to a terrorist uprising in the Middle East. Sitting in front of Frankie Donati he appeared half his age and… Smitten?

“I have to admit, breaking my leg wounded my heart a bit,” Asher said, leaning forward slightly and earning a look of warning from Sergei.

“Had to be done. You know full-well how it is.”

“Better than most,” Asher said, his voice sullen and full of regret.

Gloria’s gaze moved between the two men: one whose eyes were full of longing, the other who seemed full of unresolved betrayal.

Sergei’s fist landed on the table. “Dostatochno! —Enough!—”

Frankie smirked and leaned back in his chair. His arm snaked out to rest on the back of her seat so that his hand could play with her hair.

“Khvatit etogo! Ty! —Enough of this! You!—” Sergei said, pointing a mangled finger at her. His face had turned red, his anger palpable. Frankie’s obvious provocation had landed splendidly. The Russian Pakhan was pissed. “Chto ty zdes' delayesh'? S nim? —What are you doing here? With him?—”

“Eto kazalos' yestestvennym razvitiyem sobytiy, uchityvaya, chto ya byla ne pervoy, kto ushel ot tebya k nemu. —It seemed the natural progression considering I wasn’t the first to leave your side for him—,” Gloria said, her voice far steadier than her stomach.

Sergei’s eyes widened before they narrowed to slits. “Ty, suka. Dumayesh', pobeg s nim chto-to izmenit? Dazhe yesli by ne bylo kontrakta. Dazhe yesli by ya dostal original i szheg yego dotla, ty vse ravno ostalas' by moyey. Biznes tvoyego ottsa, yego aktivy, yego lyudi i yego dragotsennaya dochurka — vso eto prinadlezhit mne po pravu. Yesli ty dumayesh', chto ya pozvolyu tomu, chto prinadlezhit mne, uskol'znut' iz moikh ruk tol'ko potomu, chto ty neskol'ko mesyatsev pozhila na svobode i vozomnila, chto u tebya poyavilas' smelost'? Ty gluboko oshibayesh'sya. —You bitch. You think running off with him will change anything? Even if there wasn’t a contract. Even if I were to pull the original out and burn it to ash, you would still be mine. Your father’s business, his holdings, his men and his precious little daughter are mine by right. If you think I will let what is mine slip out of my fingers simply because you had a few months of freedom and think you’ve grown a spine? You’re sorely mistaken.—”

“U menya vsegda byla svoya tochka zreniya, Sergey. —I’ve always had a spine, Sergei—,” she growled. She wasn’t sure if it was Frankie’s soothing fingers or the anger quickly turning from a simmer to a boil at Sergei’s words that made her develop a sudden resistance to her betrothed, but she wouldn’t let the opportunity go without seizing it. “Vy ne vladeyete mnoy. On ne vladeyet mnoy. YA chelovek, i ya sama budu reshat', gde mne nochevat' i komu ya peredam svoi prava po rozhdeniyu. —You do not own me. He does not own me. I am a human being and I will decide where I lay my head at night and who I relinquish my birthright to.—”

Sergei’s breathing stalled. His eyes flicked to Frankie and back. He smoothed his tie and shook his head with a smile that promised pain. “Ty pozvolila yemu trakhnut' tebya, ne tak li, ty, chertova shlyukha? —You let him fuck you, didn’t you, you fucking whore?—”

“Oskorbleniya zdes' neumestny. —Name calling isn’t necessary—,” Frankie finally interjected. Gloria’s head whipped to him as he spoke fluent Russian. “Mogu vas zaverit', ona otdalas' mne dobrovol'no i besplatno. Nikakoy peredachi deneg ne potrebovalos'. —I can assure you she gave herself to me for free. No transfer of money required.—”

Asher’s face paled. Accardi rolled his eyes. Sergei looked as though he were trying to force a pill down that had become lodged in his throat. Gloria continued to grapple with the realization that Frankie Donati spoke Russian. It meant he’d heard her exchange with Sergei in which she’d chosen him. He’d been able to read the portions of her contract written specifically in that language… He’d heard her confession that she might be falling for him.