Dmitry Nikolaev: A Russian Mafia Romance by Naomi West

Author:Naomi West [West, Naomi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-20T23:00:00+00:00

Once again, Mother has outdone herself.

One look at the New York Public Library makes that clear. She has every one of its sky-high hulking stone columns wrapped with white ribbons. The steps are filled with decorative candles, with a thin path in the middle marked out for the guests to ascend.

The message is clear: we don’t care how quickly you get to our reception. We just want to make damn sure that you know who this is for. What this all means.

We are the Nikolaevs. Your betters, your masters, your conquerors. We are the Nikolaevs, and you do not want us as your enemies.

“Ready?” I ask, turning to Shannon once we’ve stepped out of the limo.

“Does it matter?” she shoots back.

I grin. “That’s the spirit.”

“If I behave, can I call my parents?”

“Quite the bargainer, aren’t you?” Ahead of us, one of the many photographers Mother hired is snapping away.

“Is that a yes?” she asks.

I capture her hand in mine, lean in so that my lips brush her ear, and whisper, “Let’s just say I’ll be much more likely to consider it.”

A frown crosses her face. Too damn bad. She’s already pushed it too far today. If she thinks all she has to do is wave a nanosecond of her good behavior in my face to put all to rights, then she’s highly mistaken.

Inside, the orchestra is already playing classical songs. The servers are making the rounds with heaping trays of hors d’oeuvres.

Gavriil waves to me, a half-finished plate of crab cakes in hand already. “Dmitry! Shannon! Congratulations, you two!”

He sweeps past me and kisses Shannon’s hand. “You were radiant.”

“That’s a word for it,” she drawls wryly.

“I have lots more where that came from.” He turns to me. “A moment, brother?”

“If you insist.”

“I’ll go get some food,” Shannon says, getting the hint and leaving all too eagerly.

Leaning in, Gavriil starts talking in a low, excited voice. “You killed it, my man! Killed it. Everyone’s impressed. Saying how it shows Shannon has true McNulty blood in her, how she fought you to the very end. Then how you turned it around. Impressive.”

“Good,” I say. “But couldn’t you telling me that wait?”

Gavriil shrugs. “At this point, I thought good news couldn’t hurt. Considering the Mexicans took this opportunity to shoot Oleg.”

“What?” Fuck. “Not …”

“Yeah. They got ol’ Ollie. Looks like they’re gunning for anyone they can reach now, even if they’re only tangentially associated with the Bratva.”

I nod, biting back the rising fury in my chest. Shannon and I sat at lunch with him and his wife just the other day. He was so alive then.

Now, he’s a cold body in a morgue.

Fucking bastards.

But even I have to admit that Rafael knows how to run a guerilla war. Bite, then hide. Bite, then hide.

“We’re going to crush them soon,” I growl.

Gavriil gestures with his plate. “Talk to Bastien. He has a whole plan mapped out already. I swear the dude gets horny for military tactics.”

I shake my head. “Not now.”

Mother is coming over, her stilettoes clacking on the marble floor.

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