Betting On Her (A Wilde Love Novel Book 2) Read online

  I brushed the tears away. I was happy when you were alive. My mother spoiled me. Until her death, so did my father. It all makes sense. He found out the years he’d spent doting on me were wasted on another man’s offspring. I wondered if he knew who Lucky was?

  April 21st

  Hell, I live in hell, but at least I have a peek at heaven from my balcony. My roses are budding. I can’t wait for them to bloom. It’s all I have to look forward to.

  The money I’d hidden is gone, which means I have no hope for escape. I don’t know if it’s the housekeeper or Yuri who took it. It’s not like I can ask, so I smile and pretend everything is okay.

  May 12th

  Yuri came into my room last night and took from me what I refused to give him. I told him I’d call the police, and he told me he owned the police. What was I thinking when I said yes to him all those years ago? The reality was that back then, I knew the word no wouldn’t be an acceptable answer.

  Poor Katya has been knocking on my door all day, but I can’t let her see me like this. I want to protect her for as long as I can. She’s only a little girl.

  May 28th

  Katya and I had tea on the balcony. We made paper tiaras and held our pinkies high as we sipped Earl Grey and ate Irish soda bread drizzled with honey. It tickles me that she loves it so much.

  She’s the sweetest little girl in the world, but that’s because her father’s blood runs through her veins. She’s so much like him in so many ways. Wicked sense of humor. Robust laugh. Eyes as blue as a summer sky. Had I made a mistake by staying with Yuri for Mikhail? As long as Yuri thinks Katya is his, she’s safe. I’m safe.

  June 12th

  Sixteen days until my baby turns eight. She wants a pretty princess party. I’ve ordered Tiaras and a Cinderella dress for her birthday. Invites will go out the week before to all her classmates. Today, when I asked her if she could have anyone be her prince who would she choose, and she named the middle Wilde boy. I told her to keep that to herself because Daddy wouldn’t be happy to know she’d chosen an Italian. The truth was, he hated Vince Wilde because he had what Yuri wanted. But I didn’t want Katya’s life to be filled with messages about hate and told her to choose wisely when she chose a prince. I wish I’d been more discerning.

  June 21st

  Yuri is like a caged animal today. He’s burst into my room three times, demanding to know the name of the man I’ve been sleeping with. How he knows, I can’t guess, but I’ll never tell him. I’ve got our bags packed, and once everyone goes to sleep, Katya and I will disappear.

  I read through all six months again and memorized the details I knew for certain.

  My father has blue eyes.

  He is powerful but kind.

  His nickname is Lucky.

  He is enough for my mom to risk everything.

  She died keeping his identity a secret.

  I buried my face in my pillow and cried for over an hour. What thoughts were in my mother’s head when Yuri pushed her over the balcony? I knew without a doubt she was thinking of my real father and me.

  “Katya, open the damn door.”

  Yuri’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He twisted the knob and pounded on the door.

  “Leave me alone!” I screamed.

  “Stay away from the Wildes. Do your job and marry Sergei, and you won’t meet the same fate as your mother.”

  Certainly, he couldn’t keep me alive now that I knew the truth. I was next on his list, along with Matt. Yuri had been clear about killing him. I had to warn him.

  I tucked the journal between my mattresses, slipped on a pair of sneakers, grabbed my purse, and left via my balcony. Lucky for me, I had a trellis where my mother’s favorite roses climbed toward the sky as if trying to reach her.

  I made my way down the thorny branches. Scraped and bleeding, I slipped into the end stall and started my car.

  I didn’t waste any time leaving the compound. In my rearview mirror, my prison faded until it completely disappeared. I had one objective, and that was to reach Matt. I only hoped he was sincere when he told me I belonged to him, because in ten minutes I’d land on his doorstep and he’d have to decide whether to let me and my problems inside.

  Chapter 14

  I’d locked up the office and was walking to the apartment when Sam’s cell broke the silence. He held out his hand to stop me.

  “Hold,” he turned to me. “Katya Petrenko is here, and she says she needs to see you.” His scowl said it all. Even the hired help thought she was trouble. “She’s downstairs and may be in need of first aid.”

  At the mention of first aid, I rushed past Sam to the elevator.

  “Sir, it could be a trap. Let me go and evaluate the situation.” He stood in front of the open elevator, blocking my passage.

  “It’s not a trap, and if she’s hurt, I want to be there for her.” I shoved the big man aside and walked into the elevator. “Is she in security?”

  He nodded and climbed in the elevator beside me. “You’re being careless.”

  I turned to Sam. “I don’t pay you for your opinion.”

  He shook his head. “No, you pay me to protect you, and I can’t do that if you act impulsively.”

  He was right. I was acting without thought, but dammit, Katya wouldn’t come here unless it was important. I stepped out of the elevator. “Bring her here straightaway. I’ll take care of her.”

  I rushed back to the apartment and got the first aid kit from the bathroom. It was like a mini emergency room that had everything from an IV bag to antibiotics. I paced the living room for the ten minutes it took Sam to return.

  When he did, my heart fell into my shoes. I rushed to Katya, who looked broken and beaten. “Oh, honey, what the hell happened to you?”

  Her breaths shook her body. A whimper released when she ran to me and buried her head into my chest. “He killed my mother.”

  That statement pulled the floor from beneath her. She collapsed at my feet. I swooped her up and carried her to the bedroom, where I placed her on the bed and sat next to her. My poor girl was a mess. Her arms were full of scratches, like she’d crawled through brambles to escape. A cut about two inches long ran across her forehead, close to her hairline. Fury filled me. Someone was going to pay for every drop of her blood they spilled.

  “Who killed your mother?”

  “Yuri,” the warble in her voice gutted me. In a matter of weeks, her father had taken a strong woman capable of anything and turned her into someone I didn’t recognize.

  “Your father killed your mother? How do you know?”

  She rolled to her side so her head was in my lap. I pushed the hair from her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “He’s not my father.”

  “Yuri isn’t your father?”

  She shook her head and sobbed again.

  I waited for the onslaught of fresh tears to stop. “No.” Her hand went to the cut on her forehead. “He…he…” She swallowed hard, like the words were stuck in her throat. “He was mad at me, and he wanted to hurt me. I wore green instead of black, and he told me I was a whore just like my mother.” She took in a shaky breath. “He had kept her final diary. He threw it at me and told me to read about my mother.”

  It was a lot to take in, and I was removed from the situation. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like for Katya to realize that she’s not Yuri’s. “Did he tell you he killed your mother?”

  “Yes, he said she wouldn’t tell him who my father was, and so he pushed her over the balcony and left her there until she was found the next day.”

  I pulled her into my arms and hugged her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” She sobbed uncontrollably for the next fifteen minutes. I didn’t think a person had that many tears. When she settled down, I moved her off my lap and she told me the rest of her story. When she was finished, I told her to wait there.

  She grabbed at me. “Don’t leave me,” she begged.

  “Never. I’m just getti
ng the first aid kit so I can take care of you.”

  She eased her grip, and I ran so she didn’t feel like I’d abandoned her.

  She winced when I cleaned the cuts and scrapes, and she sighed when I applied a soothing antibiotic ointment.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered after I had her patched up and in my arms.

  She shook her head. “It’s never going to be okay. I don’t even know who I am.”

  “You’re Katya, and you’re mine. That’s all you need to know for now.”

  She burrowed into me and fell asleep.

  When I was certain she wouldn’t wake, I climbed out of the bed and went to my office to call Alex. It was late, but he needed to know that Katya was here.

  The phone rang once. “You okay?”

  I chuckled. Of course, he would think I’d get myself in trouble. “Yes. I’m okay, but I have a problem.”

  “Is she blonde, about five-foot-five and Russian?”

  I kicked back in my chair and watched the monitors in front of me. Everything seemed to be running smoothly, but if I hid Katya, there was no doubt that would change.

  “Yes, it’s Katya. She showed up here hysterical and injured. She also said those bullets at the funeral were meant for me. She said the hit was on me but the hitman screwed it up.”

  “Shit.” Alex let out a stream of expletives before he calmed down. “You need to stay in the casino. We can protect you there.”

  “I’m not going to be a prisoner in my home.”

  “He’s lashing out at you because you’re coming between him and something he wants or needs. He needs Katya to marry Sergei, and she won’t do that if she’s in love with you.”

  I’d never considered her love for me. I just assumed her feelings matched my own. I wasn’t sure what I felt for her was love, but it was all-consuming.

  “She’s not marrying Sergei. I won’t allow that to happen.”

  “Dammit, Matt, do you hear what you’re saying? You’re willing to put all of us at risk for a woman whose father is trying to kill you.”

  “You’d do the same for Faye.” If I wanted my brother’s support, I needed to hit him in the heart.

  “You’re right, but he’s her father.”

  “That’s something else. Yuri isn’t her father.” I gave my brother the shortened version of everything she told me. “I’m not giving her back to that piece of shit. You may be willing to toss her aside, but I won’t. She belongs to me.”

  I stood and walked around the office. The shelves had been emptied of everything. Gone were the pictures of my father with the Pope and the President. There were no more antique guns or other collectibles. They were bare and waiting for me to decorate them. I ran my hand over the mahogany finish. If I closed my eyes, I could see a picture of Katya on the center shelf. Down the road, I could imagine pictures of our children flanking hers.

  I knew I had him when he let out a sigh. “Do you love her?”

  “Yes,” I said without reservation. “I think I always have.”

  “Fine. Call a meeting with Sergei. It’s time we took the bull by the horns. We can’t win if we can’t negotiate with him. No doubt he’s here to stay. Keep an eye out for Yuri. I’ll call Agent Holt and have him come and talk to Katya. If she can produce evidence, we can put Yuri away for good.”

  “She said something about a journal, but she didn’t have it with her. It could be in her purse or car.”

  “Does she know who her father is?” I could hear Faye in the background asking questions.

  “No, she only knows he goes by the name Lucky.”

  There was a moment of silence. “I only know of one man who goes by Lucky. There is no way she’s his daughter.”

  I pressed my memory but came up blank. “Who?”

  “That would be Liam O’Leary.”

  “Holy shit. What if she is his? That’s a whole other can of worms to open.”

  “Don’t open it yet. Let’s get Katya in a good place and attack this situation one thing at a time. If she is Liam’s and he never knew, there will be a body count like no one’s seen before. Given the fact that Sergei has a real problem with the Irish, we don’t want to let that piece of information slip.”

  I considered his request. “I don’t want to lie to Katya. Hasn’t she had enough lies in her life? That asshole made her believe her mother killed herself. All this time, Katya thought she was worthless because not even her mother loved her enough to stay.”

  “You’re not lying to her. We need to do the legwork before we start a different war.”

  As usual, he was right. There was no use starting something if we didn’t have solid proof. “Okay, I agree. I don’t want to introduce another problem into her life if it’s not going to turn into something positive. We’ll have to figure out a way to approach Liam.”

  “Leave that to me. Liam is reasonable, and his family is important to him.”

  “You think he’d treat Kirsten the same way Yuri treats Katya?” What I really wanted to know was, if he were her father, would he try to control her future? I didn’t want her influenced by a father who didn’t have her best interests at heart.

  “So far, Kirsten hasn’t been promised to anyone. I don’t know what his thoughts on daughters and marriage are, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves here. We’ll need to prove she’s his daughter first.”

  We hung up, and I sent Sam to deliver a message to Sergei. If he got it, he’d be here tomorrow night for a meeting.

  I returned to Katya, who was still asleep in my bed. She was so tiny buried in the covers. I undressed and slid in next to her.

  Naturally, she sought me out and curled into my body. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight.

  “You’re mine,” I told her. “I love you, and I will keep you safe.”

  “I’m yours,” she whispered.

  Chapter 15

  I rolled over and hit a solid mass of muscle. Naked muscle.

  “Good morning, Katya.” Matt’s voice was slow and sexy.

  When I looked up, he was propped on his elbow, staring down at me. I took him in, from the top of his head to the perfect V of his muscles that disappeared under the sheet at his hips.

  “Good morning,” I croaked out. Every muscle ached, from my throat to my eyeballs. Who knew I could cry so much? “Thank you for taking me in.”

  His lips stretched thin. “What did you expect me to do, toss you on your ass?”

  I pulled the cover over my head. I felt a mess. I knew I looked a mess. This was not the way I wanted Matt to see me.

  “As a matter of fact, I did since you tossed me on my ass once this week already. Besides, I’m a mess.”

  He pulled the sheet from my face. “You’re a beautiful mess.” He pressed his lips to mine in a sweet closed mouth kiss. I tried to turn my face from him. “I mean…ackkk! Morning breath.” But he cupped my cheek to keep me in place.

  “I need to borrow a toothbrush if you’re going to kiss me.”

  “I’m going to kiss you whether you brushed your teeth or not. All I want is your lips on mine.” He covered my mouth with his, and all thoughts of brushing my teeth disappeared. The kiss was slow and languid, and when he pulled away, I felt the loss profoundly. “That’s more like it. How are you feeling today?”

  I looked down at the scratches on my arms. “Like I climbed down the trellis outside my bedroom and fell into my mom’s rose bushes.” The mention of my mother made my stomach twist and ache. Tears filled my eyes.

  He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. “I’ve got you.”

  “Don’t let me go.” I burrowed into his body, seeking his warmth and strength.

  “Not a chance.” His hands glided over my body. It wasn’t sexual in any way, but comforting. “I’ve got to take a shower so I’m ready for my meeting this morning. Stella is in the kitchen making breakfast. She’s going to fuss over you all day.”

  “Will you be back?”

  “Yes, of
course.” He tilted his head. “Unless Sergei has me killed.”

  I sat up. “You can’t meet with him.” My whole body started to shake. “He’s not a good man. He will kill you.”

  “He can try.” Matt sat up and swung his legs off the mattress. That’s when I saw the purple bruise on his back.

  “Oh my God, your back. The bullet bruised you so badly.” My fingers traced over the fist-sized purple mark. “Does it hurt?” I moved off the bed and sat beside him.

  “I’ve felt worse.” His hand rubbed along the scar where he’d been shanked in prison. He turned to me. “I have to meet with Sergei. He’s not going to let you go without a fight, and I’m plain just not letting you go.”

  He meant it when he said I was his. “I’m not holding you to words said in distress.”

  He rose from the bed. The globes of his ass were solid and flexed with each step. “I’m holding you to your words whether said in distress or passion.”

  “I never promised anything.” I stood and followed him to the bathroom.

  “You said you’re mine, and you are.” He turned on the shower. Jets pulsed from every angle. “Are you taking that back?”

  Was it possible to be his? There was nothing I wanted more. “No, but…”

  He pulled off my T-shirt and tugged down my flannel pants. “But nothing. Let’s get you cleaned up and fed. I’ll have the gift store send up everything you’ll need.”

  He placed his hand on my back and led me into the hot shower. The water stung the scratches on my arms, but the pulsing of the jets kneaded my sore muscles.

  “You don’t have to get me clothes.”

  He pressed me against the cold tile with his body. “I take care of what’s mine.”