Page 62 of Hunter's Revenge

“Well, things seem to be underway.” Desmier nods. “I’ll organize the wedding, and Zakh will take care of all the paperwork.”

“Thank you for being on board with me.” I feel I should offer my gratitude again. “It means a lot, and I know the task ahead is going to shake things up in the underworld.”

“We’re Volkovas. We’ll be ready for it.” Desmier smiles. “This is your legacy, and having the cartel will make our empire a force to be reckoned with. The Pakhan was blowing out of his ass before because he didn’t believe you could pull this off, but you guys did it.”

We did do it.

Now it finally feels like I can make that start to get my life back on track. The wheels have been put in motion for retribution, and that part of me that’s been holding on to the guilt I’ve felt over Jim’s death can hopefully start to heal.

“Now we just have to get everything ready for Monday,” Zakh states.

“It will be ready. I’ll take care of any obstacles we might encounter.” The only one I can think of is the beautiful woman I left at my house, who’s not going to give in so easily to marry me.

Judging from the understanding look in Zakh’s eyes, I can see he’s thinking the same thing.

“Alright, we just have to talk about the schedule for next week for the Bratva meetings and our work at Volkova Inc. Then we’re done for the day.” Desmier glances over some documents on his desk, then starts reconfiguring the schedule.

My mind, however, is on how everything is going to play out with Gwen.

If nothing else, it will be interesting.

Once she’s married to me she’ll be a symbol of defeat to the Navarros.

But she’s also the spoils of war and I already know I’m going to have a hard time resisting that urge to taste her again.

ChapterFourteen

Gwen

Malik Volkova.

Volkova.

That’s the surname Conrad gave Malik.

His name rattles around in my mind like marbles being tossed onto the floor. I press my head against the edge of the bed. A fruitless attempt to soothe the ache of worry and terror tightening my scalp.

At first, when Conrad addressed Malik, I thought it was strange that I’d had so many encounters with him and never knew his full name. My next thought was that the name sounded powerful. Just like the man.

I got the memo about how powerful Malik Volkova was the moment he told me to jump into the truck. I just didn’t pay attention to the right things.

Like how he just headed out to deal with Conrad by himself and how terrified he looked at him.

One man. One man with a gun and a damsel in distress at his side.

As if I have no common sense and I didn’t just go through all manners of shit with Gage, I didn’t pay attention.

Worst of all, I got involved with this man, none the wiser that he would be the worst enemy I could ever encounter.

Had I even thought to ask for his last name—if he’d told me the truth—I might have been able to look him up. I was curious enough about him to do so because I was already trying to figure out what his tattoo meant.

Maybe I would have found something. Something that would have given me a better heads-up that captivity was in the cards for me.

But here I am, sitting on the floor with my back against the side of the bed.

I’m pretty much in the same spot Malik left me. The only thing I’ve been able to establish in the few hours that have passed since I’ve been locked in here is that

this is his bedroom.