Page 13 of Tangled Souls (Bratva Souls Duet #2)

KIRILL

It’s been a few days since the night Oaklynn went to the charity meeting and Adam made a move to intimidate her. He’s been our guest ever since. Knowing he’s sitting in our warehouse and healing from Maxim and Baker working him over pisses me off.

As angry as I am, I know it’s not time yet.

Mikhail is going to make a move, and we need to be ready for him. But until then, I think I can nudge him a little more. I desperately want to piss him off.

I know how to do it, but I’m dreading it.

The guys are already in my office and I’m about to tell them my idea when the door opens. I glance up to find Betty walking in. I almost groan in annoyance, but I hold it back.

Overall, the woman has toned her shit down, but I still get flashes of defiance as she tries to push her boundaries. Either she’ll get it fully or she won’t. And then she’ll be gone.

“Can I get you some coffee? Mr. Volkov? Mr. Cardenas? Mr. Volkov? Mr. Dalton?” Betty looks at us as she says each of our names. The way her eyes widen, as she keeps her head tipped down, is an act to get us to believe she’s innocent.

But I know the truth.

We all do.

“No, Betty,” my tone is neutral. I force myself to bite out, “Thank you.”

The way she bites her lip before giving me a small smile does nothing for me. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but then she turns away.

It’s only once she leaves and the door closes behind her that I feel like I can relax. My eyes are locked on the door, and I shake my head slowly.

“Maybe it’s time to just let her go,” I muse.

Baker grunts, “She might seem like she’s getting it, but she still is rude as fuck to Oaklynn when she thinks no one is around.”

My head snaps his way, and I glare at him. “What are you talking about?”

He huffs out a breath and looks sheepish as fuck. “Honestly, I forgot about it. But the other night when she stopped in while you were considering killing Hendrix and the guys, Betty had a nasty attitude from the moment Oaklynn stepped off the elevator. Our wife took care of her.”

“The next time she says some shit, she’s gone,” I tell him.

Baker will be the one to keep an eye on things, especially the cameras. Betty opens her mouth and says one more thing to our woman and she’s going to be gone.

My gut is telling me she’s going to get herself fired before she even knows it.

I shake it off, knowing it’ll happen the way it’s supposed to happen. However it ends remains to be seen. No matter what, I’m sure it’ll be entertaining.

As the silence stretches in the office, I blurt, “I think we need to be seen more.”

The guys freeze and then look toward me slowly with shocked expressions. I’ll admit, they should be surprised. Putting our woman in the spotlight isn’t really something I want to do, but we need to.

As much as I hate to admit it, Hendrix was right. Putting our woman in some tower isn’t the right thing to do. If I keep doing it, if I keep insisting on it, I’ll be denying her, and us, the woman she truly is. That would be a huge shame.

“Are you sure?”

I look up to find Baker studying me. My throat closes up and it takes a lot of effort to swallow past the lump in my throat. The idea of our woman being out there and being in danger kills me, but we can’t lock her away and keep her happy.

Something has to give, and it needs to be me. Between the four of us, we can protect our woman. It’s not like she’s ever going to go out somewhere by herself. If we don’t have her back, then she’ll have protection.

“I’ve been kicking around an idea since we went to Second Circle,” Maxim throws out there.

When I look at him, he has a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. My gut is screaming at me that I’m not going to like his idea at all. But then again, he loves our wife just as much as I do and he’ll always act with her well-being in mind.

“Is this going to make me want to shoot you?” I can’t help but ask the question.

Maxim barks out a short laugh and shrugs. “Probably,” he admits.

“I’m not opening a fucking brothel,” I growl in warning at my brother.

“I don’t want to open a brothel,” Maxim huffs and rolls his eyes, “don’t be ridiculous. I do think that we might want to consider a nightclub.”

“A nightclub?” Huck looks like he’s considering the idea.

It’ll probably be only a few minutes until he grabs his tablet and starts to do some research and crunch some numbers. Baker is already shaking his head, which doesn’t surprise me. A club sounds like a horror in terms of security and that would fall completely on Baker’s shoulders.

“Do you realize how much time a club would take up? How much time it would take away from Oaklynn?” Baker asks, clearly annoyed.

“We know how to hire the right people. Sure, at least one of us would need to come through a few times a week, but I’m not suggesting we spend all our time at a club,” Maxim fires back.

“It’s like White Stone. We hired the right people, empowered them to do their jobs, and ensure they feel ownership when it comes to the business. Why can’t we do that with a club?”

Baker’s shoulders slump slightly, knowing full well that Maxim won’t be put off. It’s not like the idea is a bad one either. The problem is that Baker’s first priority is safety. It’s what his mind mulls over all the time. He’s always assessing the world around us and looking for the pitfalls.

“We’ll need to talk to Oaklynn about it, but I’m not opposed to getting in the nightclub business,” I offer.

“I think we should look for a club which is already established and buy it as is. We can change things as we need, but there’s no reason to reinvent the wheel,” Huck offers.

His fingers fly over the screen of his tablet. I’m sure he’s checking the numbers to see if this is something we want to consider from a business standpoint. I have a feeling it will be.

There’s money to be made in a club, but it has to be run well. The service provided, along with the way the club is branded, is the key to success. Just like with White Stone.

“I do like the idea of buying a club that’s already established,” I muse.

“What about Aamon’s club?” It sounds like Baker is forcing the words past his lips. When I look at him, his face is twisted up telling me that he’s not a fan of contributing to the conversation but is doing it anyway.

It would be comical if I didn’t understand his reservations and feel them myself. I don’t want to do anything to hurt our woman. And we’re already spread so thin.

But I think we can handle adding this to our plate.

Baker snaps his fingers, “Pulse.” When I give him a look, he flips me off and shakes his head. “The name of the club. It’s Pulse. I couldn’t remember it for a moment.”

All I can do is nod to let him know I heard him. My mind wanders to Aamon. He’s a wannabe.

And I mean that in every sense of the word. He wants to be someone who people like while also being willing to dip his toe into illegal bullshit. He’s a shifty fucking character.

But Pulse is popular from what I understand. I’m sure people don’t pay the cover to get close to the owner.

Well, most people at least.

From the moment we came to Seattle and started to get the lay of the land, Pulse was on our radar, and it wasn’t just about it being a good night spot.

There’s something shady going on there, but we never had any proof.

Making an enemy out of Aamon wasn’t something we were interested in doing, but we didn’t become friends or get into business together.

Having Pulse under new management would be a good thing. And safer for the patrons.

“Fuck,” Huck grunts.

All eyes turn toward him, and he looks disgusted. “I’ve run Pulse through the information I have on Mikhail, Chambers, and now Adam. There’s some overlap, especially when it comes to Chambers and his financials.”

“Plot thickens,” Maxim’s voice is ominous.

“There’s nothing with Mikhail or Anatoly that I can find, but it doesn’t mean anything,” Huck interjects. “Adam is too new in the city. He doesn’t have much of a footprint here yet.”

I nod slowly, thinking over what it means to have a connection between Chambers and Pulse. Richard could have been the money man, at least in name, but he could have been a lot more too. We never had anyone inside Anatoly Morozov’s operation, so it’s all speculation at this point.

My gut is screaming at me.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they used Pulse to tag women for the trafficking shit,” Baker gives voice to my own thoughts and fears.

As I rub a hand over my face, dread fills me. “I was thinking the same thing,” I mutter.

“Then will he even want to sell?”

“Like whether he wants to sell or not matters,” Maxim answers Huck’s question.

“You better fucking believe that it doesn’t matter. We’re buying the club,” I state without any fucking room for argument.

Maxim claps and rubs his hands together. The gleam in his eyes tells me he’s looking forward to tonight. He knows I won’t want to wait on this.

I pull my phone out and send off a text to my personal shopper to get an outfit together for our woman. She needs to look hot as hell, which won’t be a hardship at all.

“And we’ll have the prettiest woman on our arm while we go and check Pulse out,” Huck’s voice is full of pride.

It’s the same feeling that warms my chest. Having Oaklynn stand next to us isn’t a hardship. She’s been an asset in every situation she’s been put in. I know it will be the same tonight when we go out, even though my protective instincts are screaming for me to keep her at home.

Maybe she’ll have a little fun while we’re at it. She deserves it.

As I look around at the guys, I realize we all deserve it. We’ve spent a lot of fucking time dealing with Morozov and balancing the power in this city, along with the men who wield it with honor.

We’ve been playing it safe.

It’s time to shake things up.

“Are you sure taking Oaklynn is a good idea?” Baker’s voice is full of trepidation, trying to be the voice of reason as he puts thoughts of our safety first.

“Try and keep her home,” Maxim challenges him. “You know she won’t stand for it.”

“I know,” he grumbles, “but I don’t have to like it.”

We chuckle together, knowing we’re all on the same page. We need to present a united front when it comes to who holds the power. We’re Oaklynn’s sword and she shall wield us however she sees fit.

As it fucking should be.

“Aamon doesn’t know what is coming for him,” my voice is deep and dark.

Hopefully, he’s ready to sell. Pulse will be ours one way or another. The night ending with blood on our hands doesn’t bother me in the least.

Honestly, it would be par for the course with us.