Page 44 of Gabriel (Legacy of Heathens #4)

Kian

I t had been a week since I received the frantic call from Liana Volkov, the woman whose life I had saved decades ago and who had saved my granddaughter’s life in return. The web of our life choices had forever connected us, and I hadn’t regretted it for a single minute.

I picked up my phone, waited until the secure line blinked green, and then hit dial.

City lights flickered in Vlore—my default home for years—the streets still glistening from the storm that had rolled through earlier.

I checked the time on my watch. It wasn’t terribly late in Boston, although I knew she’d be awake even if it was.

Liana picked up on the first ring.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” she said, her statement laced with dread.

I let the silence stretch just long enough to confirm it.

“Well, they’re in Europe, just not where we expected them to be.”

A pause.

“Why am I not surprised?” Her voice was soft and controlled. Liana Volkov had learned the hard way to keep her composure.

“Elira and Amara purchased a yacht.”

“Ah, yes,” she grumbled. “They told me that.”

“Well, they took it to Colombia. And at this very moment, they’re approaching my shores.”

Another beat of silence. “Vlore? That’s… unexpected.”

“It sure is, especially since neither one of them has given me a heads-up on the visit. However, they’ve done weirder things before.”

“At least the three of them are together,” she muttered.

“Well, there are three on that boat, plus the crew.” I paused, wondering how to break this to her. “But it isn’t the three you’re thinking of.”

“I’m not following.”

“Elira and Amara kidnapped Gabriel Santos.” I sighed and leaned forward, propping an elbow on my knee.

“He must have deserved it,” Liana rushed to say.

“Maybe so, but I came to an agreement with Raphael Santos long ago that their family would be protected on my territory. Anya, I shall remind you, is his daughter.”

“Do whatever you need to sort this out, but if Gabriel hurts either one of them, kill him.”

I let out a sardonic breath. “He isn’t that kind of man, Liana.”

“And where’s Jet?” she questioned, her breath hitching.

The alarm in her voice was unmistakable.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “If you didn’t like that, you’re going to like what I’m about to tell you even less.”

“You’re scaring me. Please don’t tell me he’s d?—”

“No, no. Jet’s not dead, but when Raphael Santos or Gabriel get their hands on him, he might be.”

I could practically hear her gulp over the line. “I don’t follow. What are you saying?”

Standing up, I turned away from the window and pressed my palm to the back of my neck.

“I’m saying that Jet decided he’s in love…” I said slowly. “With Anya Santos.”

She cursed—once, low and vicious.

“Are you sure? How do you even know this?”

“I called him and he told me.”

“What? He’s not answering my calls,” she said, and I heard her start to pace. “You told him to cut it out, right?”

I laughed, although there was no humor in it. “I sure did. And I told him if he sets foot in Albania, I’m going to wring his neck.”

“What… what did he say?”

“Just that Anya is his and he intends to make it legal.”

“Oh my God,” she rasped. “You have to stop him, Kian. What the hell is he thinking?”

I looked out at the city again. “I put extra guards on Anya and have additional eyes on her property. I’ll get eyes on Jet.”

“I should come out there.”

“No, it’s best you stay where you are,” I protested. “I’ll figure out where he is and let you know. And I’ll deal with my guests and their prisoner.”

“This is my fault,” she muttered.

“No,” I said. “It’s ours. We told him to find a girl, get married, and ensure a legacy so he can take over the empire. It would seem he took it literally. Who could have envisioned it going this way?”

She didn’t respond at first. But when she did, it was with the steel she was known for.

“If Jet gets Anya, we need to make them disappear and pray those two have… a connection.”

“I prefer to stay out of gossip, but I think Anya might already have a boyfriend. Do you know who he is?”

“How in the hell would I?” she hissed. “I don’t even read People magazine. Jesus Christ, when I get ahold of my son…” I could practically envision Liana pulling her hair out. “My only comfort is that I know Jet would never endanger a girl, regardless of his intentions with her.”

For all of our sakes, I hoped she was right.

“I hate to admit it, Liana, but these kids turned out just like us,” I grumbled.

She scoffed. “I wouldn’t tut that too loud, Kian.”

The line went dead with a soft click, leaving the house in a hush so profound it felt like the walls themselves were holding their breath.

I was leaving the office and headed to the back of the house where my bedroom suite was when my phone buzzed again.

My brows knitted at the name on the screen.

The newest head of the Triad—that had taken over after Enzo Marchetti executed the last one—had just entered Albania with his men. He didn’t sneak in but crossed the border legally. As in, they wanted their presence known. I wasn’t about to jump to conclusions, but I didn’t like the timing.

My fingers flew across the screen as I typed a message to my right-hand man to look into the purpose of the visit. Once upon a time, I handled it all myself, but now that I had a wife and more of a life, I’d learned to delegate.

After sending the message, I slipped the phone into my pocket and continued toward the bedroom, drawn by the golden glow spilling into the hallway.

Inside, my wife waited for me, half covered by the sheet, her body curled into the softness of the mattress.

Her hair fanned across the pillow in wild, dark spirals.

She turned her head lazily when she heard me, one leg bending and drawing the sheet just low enough to reveal the smooth line of her thigh.

She made a small sound, almost a pout, as she shifted onto her back. The sheet slid farther down her body, revealing the bare slope of her hip.

“I might have to be away for a day or two,” I said.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “What am I going to do without you? None of my vibrators do the trick anymore.”

Her tone was playful, but there was a quiet ache threaded through it.

I moved to the edge of the bed and climbed in beside her, pulling her close.

I kissed her shoulder, slow and unhurried, then the curve of her neck, then the line of her collarbone. I tasted her skin—warm, lightly salted from sleep, faintly scented with the lavender oil she loved.

“I’ll call,” I murmured, lips grazing her jaw. “Lots of video calls.”

Her fingers slid into my hair, nails lightly grazing my scalp as she drew me closer.

“You know it’s not the same,” she whispered, breath catching as I traced a line of kisses down to the hollow of her throat. “Not even close.”

“I know,” I said between kisses. “So I’ll give you something to remember. Open your legs for me, wife. You’re going to use me as your personal vibrator.”