It was two days until my parents funeral, and I was laughing. Laughing so hard I was doubled over with it, and this was because Natalya was telling me childhood-stories about her and Dmitri. Apparently, even before he became the man he was today, the leader of a criminal syndicate that most people feared, he had always been a bit of a troublemaker. 

"And then, I kid you not, he grabbed Andrei by the neck and shoved his face into a big pile of dogpoo!" Talya exclaimed and I was struggling to breathe through my laughter. 

A week ago, after feeling like my entire world had crumbled to the ground, all I felt was despair and empty inside, I never thought I'd laugh again. It felt good, normal, like I could move on and grieve my parents without losing everything that was me in the process. 

Dmitri was always so serious, I didn't think I'd ever so much as seen him smile, so it was refreshing and histerically funny learning there was actually more to him than just his serious, take no bullshit, badass motherfucker persona that I'd always associated with him. 

After our talk in his study earlier that day, what he said snapped me out of the narrow existence of feeling sorry for my self, little bubble that I'd shut myself tightly inside of. And it wasn't hard to talk him into taking me into the city to do a little shopping, but seeing as he was a man and all, and not particularly up to date on the latest fashion in the female-department, both Talya and Irina had tagged along. 

I ended up buying more than a funeral outfit though, more like replenishing my entire closet and much to my chagrine, Dmitri hadn't let me pay for any of it. When the shopping was done and I had approximately eight huge bags of clothes from various stores, and another three bags of different types of shoes (thirteen pairs in total), he took us to a russian restaurant that he of course owned. 

It had been a while since I'd had russian food, since I'd eaten a proper meal in general, so I didn't order something too mighty, knowing that my stomach couldn't handle it at the moment. I needed to work up to full-blown meals, to let my stomach readjust to the concept of food again. Dmitri was not happy with my choice of the traditional russian solyanka soup with meat as my main course, but on the other hand he was just pleased that I was eating anything at all. 

For the first time in a week, it felt like I was living again, and not just existing. The pain over the loss of my parents was still fresh and I knew it would stay that way for a long time, but I also knew Dmitri had been right earlier. I wasn't doing myself any favors with the way I was acting, and I wasn't honoring my parents by giving up on my life when they had lost theirs. I'd made a decision to live my life to the fullest, to honor my parents the best way I could by living a happy and glorious life and become a woman they would be proud of. 

Which brought us to now, sitting in the kitchen in Dmitri's humongous mansion that really needed horses, and sharing stories with Talya and Irina over tea and buscuits. I'd learned that Talya had spent four years attending university in London and she'd picked up a few things that stuck with her even now, like tea and buscuits. Irina, sweet, beautiful and innocent-looking Irina, had worked as a stripper for a spell and that's how she'd met Vigo. She told me that she'd had some trouble a few years ago and Vigo had been there to help her through it all the way. 

I loved this for her, and I realized I loved Vigo for her. To me he'd always seemed like such a scary a guy, a big bear of a man that looked the part of what everyone thought when they heard the words Russian Mafya, but he was obviously the love of Irina's life and she was his. It was a little weird at first, seeing them together, because he was just so much bigger than her. But then again, my mother had not been a tall woman and my father had always seemed like a giant to me, so really it didn't take all that long to get used to it. And as a small woman myself, most people would describe me as petite, I could definetely see the appeal of having a man that was tall and built, someone I knew without doubt would always be there to protect me. 

"Oh, look at the time, I didn't realize it was getting so late." Talya murmured, her eyes on the blinking red digits on the stove. I turned my head to check for myself and saw it was almost midnight, and it was a strange feeling, after so many days of having no sense of time what so ever, to settle back in to the normal day-to-day rhythm of life. 

"I should go check on Katya," Talya said and pushed back her chair as she got up, grabbing her cup and small plate and taking them to the dishwasher. Katya by the way, and I had no idea how I'd missed this in the time I'd been living at the mansion, was Talya's six year old daughter. 

I had met the adorable little girl earlier that night, and she was the sweetest thing on earth who just happened to be the spitting image of her mother, and who absolutely adored her uncle "Mitri". I'd been shocked as hell when we got back from shopping and dinner in the city, to see the little girl with the long dark hair tied back in royal blue ribbon come racing down the stairs, her dress matching the ribbon flying out behind her as she barrelled right into Dmitri and he didn't hesitate to pick her up and grin at her. In that moment I didn't think I had ever seen anything as beautiful in my life, it was magical. 

"And I need to get to bed. Vigo turned in an hour ago and he's always grumpy when I'm not in bed with him." Irina said on a smile and I laughed softly, founding the image of a grumpy Vigo hilariously funny for some reason. 

I got up too and helped clean away the rest of what was left on the table, after which all three of us left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to the second floor together, making plans to head upstate to Rhode Island the next day. Talya had promised Katya they would go to a lake that Katya loved, and she was planning on bringing a picnic-basket and just lazing in the sun all day. To me it sounded like the perfect day, especially considering my plans for the day after tomorrow. 

"I'll see you in the morning, good night." Irina and Vigo's room was the first one we passed and I called a soft good night as she disappeared behind her door. Talya's room was three doors down from mine, but I walked her to her room because I wanted to check in on Dmitri who was working in his study and say a quick good night before heading to my own room. 

The door to his study was cracked, but I still knocked before I pushed it wider and stuck my head inside to see him sitting at his desk, his eyes that were trained out the window slowly moving to me. 

"Hey," I said quietly and smiled gently, a real genuine smile, and watched his eyes drop to my lips, "I'm turning in. Just wanted to say good night and..." I hesitated, taking deep breath and then I said, "thank you for today. I really needed that." 

He watched me, or more like studied me, with his intense searching eyes and I let him. Dmitri more than anyone, knew exactly how rough the last week had been for me, after all I had spent a lot of those days sleeping in his arms because I was too scared to face my nightmares alone. Not that he gave me a choice in the matter, but still. 

"It was my pleasure, did you have a good time with the girls?" Leaning my shoulder against the doorjamb, I folded my arms and nodded.

"Yeah, I had no idea you were such a troublemaker when you were young Dmitri. Dogpoo? Really?" I barely suppressed the giggle as he blinked at me and then his brows drew together in a scowl when he muttered, "Talya's been telling tales," he surmised grumpily and I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. 

"Yup," I agreed and grinned as he blew out a breath and shook his head. He really was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, although he could probably do with a haircut, not that I really cared. 

In a lot of ways, he reminded me of my father, not in looks but personalitywise. My father could be a hard man and I knew that he wasn't exactly a pillar of society, but he was a great dad and wonderful husband and he loved his family more than anything. I didn't know why or how, but I could just tell that Dmitri was the same way. I'd seen it with the way he was with Natalya and Katya, even how he was Irina and Vigo, and even me. I wasn't family, we barely even knew each other, but he'd been good friends with my father and he hadn't hesitated even a little bit to take care of me after mom and dad died. Most people would probably disagree with me, but Dmitri Volkov was a good man. He did bad things, a lot of bad things, but he was a still a good man. I needed to believe that, because my dad had been the same way, so it was just the way it was for me. 

"What's on your mind?" I blinked as Dmitri's voice broke into my thoughts and I realized I'd completely spaced out.

"You remind me of my father." I blurted, right out, no leading into it, just blurted it right out. 

Dmitri stared at me with an expression I couldn't decipher and I shifted uncomfortably and cleared my throat, moving to change the subject. 

"I'm sorry, you were working, I won't take up any more of your time. Night Dmitri," I turned to leave the room when his voice called me back and I turned just my head to look at him, and he was wearing a look of deep concentration. 

"How do I remind you of your father?" I bit my lip and shook my head, saying softly, "Forget I said anything, it's been a long day, I'm tired and should have gone to bed hours ago, I'm not making any sense." 

He sat back in his chair, rested his bulging arms on the armrests and arched a brow, "So I don't remind you of your father?"

"I didn't say that," I shot back immediately, once again not considering my words before they left my mouth. Sighing, I turned back around and took a step into the study, closing the door behind me and leaning back against it, deciding to just tell him the truth and get it over with. 

"You're a good man Dmitri, a good brother, a good uncle. One day I'm sure you'll be a good husband and father too. You take care of the people you care about, make them feel safe, protected. Sure, you're not exactly what people would call an upstanding citizen, you do and have done terrible things, but you're still a good man. Papa was the same, a good man who took care of the people he cared about, made them feel safe and protected, and who also did bad things. That's how you remind me of my father." 

I didn't feel it until I said it, but I needed that, to speak about my father in any way at all. To speak about my parents, because small as it was, it was also a way to keep them with me in whatever small part that was. 

"Your father was a good man, Elena, but I am not." He said back, his voice quiet, eyes watchful and I smiled as I stepped forward just enough to pull open the door, then I held his eyes and didn't leave without getting in my final shot, "There are different types of good, Dmitri. Whether you believe it or not, I do, and you're a good man. Dobroy Nochi, Dmitri." Then I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me. 

Whether or not he wanted to believe me was his choice, I couldn't force him either way, but now he knew where my mind was at and what he chose to do about that was entirely up to him. 

***

Dmitri

He should never have allowed his sister to take Elena to that goddamn Victoria's Secret store the day before. He'd had to fight a full-blown erection when she untied the knot of her halterneck white and polkadotted sundress ten minutes ago, the fabric pooling at her feet to reveal her body in nothing but a white bikini that left nothing to imagination. 

That morning, Dmitri had absolutely zero intentions of joining his sister and niece on their daytrip to the lake, but that was until he'd learned his sister and Irina had made plans for Elena to come with them. With how things were, Elena was never without protection, but until he knew more about the Romero situation, he didn't want her out of his site. Now he was starting to regret that decision.   

He shouldn't be having such thoughts about Elena Lenkov, she was so young, fourteen years younger than him with her twenty-two years, but it was undeniable that she was the most stunning woman he had ever seen in his thirty six years. 

Dmitri's jaw clenched as she rose up from the lake, her body covered in droplets of water, her tiny bikini seeming even smaller now that she was wet and the fabric was plastered to her body, and his eyes moved over every inch of her slim feminine curves. 

For days he'd been living through torture, having her soft female body pressed up against his when she slept, one arm always curling across his mid-section, her head ending up either on his shoulder or chest and she always had one leg hitched over his. That meant he could feel her breasts pressing against his side, her soft hair feeling like the finest silk where it rested on his chest, and every night was another battle to keep his hands to himself and not do something he might regret later. That, he figured as he watched her walk over to the picnic-basket and grab the towel she'd brought with her to wipe down her body, was going to be even more of a challenge now that he had the image of her in that damn bikini imprinted on his eyelids. 

"Boss, there's been a new development with Romero Villanueva, you're needed in the city." Tearing his eyes away from Lena as she settled down on the blanket his sister had spread out a short distance away from where he was standing, Dmitri turned to Vigo and watched the other man pocket his phone and jerk his head in indication they needed to move further away. 

Coming to a step where he could still see the women but was out of earshot, Dmitri demanded an update from his top lieutenant. 

"Garcia called, told me Franco has some information about his brother and he wants a meet. Considering Valente's new engagement and his threat to wade in should this escalate anymore, Franco doesn't want to involve him yet. That said, Garcia wouldn't share what information Villanueva is sitting on because Franco told him explicitly he'll only talk to you. The meet is set an hour from now at that Cuban restaurant on Thompson, what's it called, Cuba Restaurant and Rum bar. Neutral territory in the middle of the day, safe for all parties." 

Dmitri turned his head to look at the women, saw Elena was laying flat out on the blanket, his niece Katya was straddling her stomach and giggling as Elena tickled her sides. Talya and Irina were both watching it happen, both of them with identical smiles and in that moment the last thing he wanted to do was sit down at some Cuban restaurant and have a conversation with Franco fucking Villanueva. 

Turning away from the women, he locked eyes with Vigo and gave his orders at the same time he began moving towards his car. 

"I want six men on the women at all times, I don't care if they have to go to the bathroom, they wait outside until they get back. I'm going into the city, anything happens out here you call me without delay and if Elena needs anything, don't hesitate to give it to her. I want you to stay here with them, I'll take Sasha into the city with me, but I know Franco and I know this is a conversation between just the two of us. I trust you to take care of my family Vigo, don't dissappoint me." 

Dmitri had made Elena a promise that he would catch the person responsible for her parents murder and it was a promise he intended to keep. If he could avoid war with the Villanuevas as he went about doing that, it would be the best for all party, and Franco Villanueva was far from stupid. 

The Cartel was powerful and growing more so each passing year, but it wasn't strong enough to win in a fight against the syndicate right then, and especially not when they both knew that Luca Valente would throw his hat in the ring with Dmitri. A war with just the syndicate they might have been able to come back from, but with the Cosa Nostra in the mix, the new capo di tutti capi and head of the Commission approving a war on the cartel, that was something they'd never recover from. 

"I'll take care of it," Vigo rumbled and Dmitri didn't spare him or anyone else another glance as he slid in behind the wheel of his car and began his drive back to the city. 

Carlo Villanueva was an old man, but he was an old man who'd built up an empire from scratch and he'd done it through share will and because he was smart. Both things he'd passed down to his oldest son, but Franco was much more forward-thinking than his father and he was a brilliant strategist. Dmitri had long suspected that even though no official word had been made, Franco had already stepped up as head of the cartel and making all the important decisions, his father just playing a part for the gallery. 

That would certainly explain the seeming discontent between Carlo and Franco during their last meeting, and why it was Franco who'd called this new meeting. 

Dmitri was still contemplating all this as he parked his car around the corner from the restaurant and felt Sasha on his flank as he made his way to the crowded Cuban restaurant that was said to have some of the best food in the city. He'd only been there once, but he didn't eat, just threw back half a bottle of rum in an hour because the place was Cuban and Dmitri liked his rum almost as much as he liked Vodka. 

Walking into the restaurant, he moved straight to the bar and hailed down the bartender, the hispanic man barely having made it to him when he heard Sasha's voice rumbling from behind him. 

"That's close enough," Sasha had only come to the US from Russia seven months ago, his accent was still heavily detectable and in his deep dark voice it was even more pronounced. Turning away from the bar, Dmitri saw Roberto Garcia, Franco Villanuevas closest advisor standing nose to nose with a hardface Sasha, and before things could escalate, Dmitri put a hand to Sasha's shoulder and locked eyes with Garcia. 

"Follow me," the columbian cartel lieutenant said quietly and turned on his heel, Dmitri following with Sasha at his back to the far back of the room and a semi-closed off booth where Franco was seated. 

The other man had a variety of emotions swirling inside his eyes, but the one Dmitri found the most interesting was anger, and he didn't take that as a good sign. He had suspected since their last meeting that Franco would do everything to protect his brother from syndicate retribution and it seemed they had reached that moment. 

Sliding into the booth across from Franco, the other man picked up a bottle of brown rum, poured two fingers into a clean glass and slid it across the table to Dmitri. Garcia and Sasha took up their respective places at the backs of their generals, and Franco dark green eyes slid to Sasha before cutting back to Dmitri. 

"Are you replacing Vigo?" There was genuine interest in Franco's voice, but Dmitri ignored his question, threw back the glass's contents and grabbed the bottle to pour himself another two fingers. 

"Why am I here?" Jaw clenching, Franco sat back in his side of the booth and tapped the fingers of his free hand on the edge of the table. Clearly, whatever reason he'd had to call the meeting was not one he enjoyed sharing, but Dmitri didn't have time for games and as he opened his mouth to say so, Franco got there before him. 

"Romero reached out to my father last night, asked him to help him with safe passage out of the country. I don't know where my brother is, but I'm telling you this because I don't want war between us as long as it can be avoided. My father does in no way condone what Romero has done, but he is still his son and my father will take actions to get him out of the country. Romero is a foolish and spoiled brat who never understood that the universe doesn't revolve around him. I learn anything else, I'll have Roberto get in touch with Vigo and we'll speak again." 

Dmitri threw back his drink again and kept his eyes on Franco as the other man stood, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket, he looked down at Dmitri and left him with one more tid-bit that served to set his teeth on edge. 

"I don't know the motive behind Romeros murder of Mikhail and Tasha, but I know someone who might, and the way I hear it, she's living under your roof. Ask Elena Lenkov about her connection to my brother, Volkov, and maybe you'll find the answers we are all looking for." 

Without a backwards glance, Franco moved away from the booth and headed for the doors, Garcia right at his back and Dmitri waited until he was gone before he got up, motioned for Sasha to follow him and left the bottle of rum on the table as he left the restaurant, doing so with a lot on his mind, and none of it was good.