Page 32 of Pucking Snowed In with the Enemy

“Sounds good. Come with me. We can grab your car from here tomorrow. It’s safe. They always have security and games or practices going on,” I said, guiding Savannah toward my truck.

“Sure, but I need my bag. I’m parked right over there.” She pointed, and as she did, I spotted a white van with two men staring at us. Even from three rows away I could pick out Fat Ricky like a sore thumb, but the other one I didn’t know. He was Italian and a long fucking way from home.

I grabbed Savannah’s arm. “Wait here,” I said and didn’t wait for her to ask why, which I knew she would. Marching across the parking lot, I locked eyes with the man I shouldn’t have an issue with, but it was pretty suspect that he was here in the middle of nowhere. I lifted the front of my jacket and showed off my piece. He put the van in drive and took off.

Their wheels squealed as they pulled out onto the main road and sped away. I watched them until I couldn’t see their taillights anymore through the falling snow.

“What the hell was that about,” Savannah asked as I walked back to where she was standing.

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“Things you couldn’t tell me even if you did?”

“Most likely, but I truly don’t know.” I looked around the parking lot for anything else suspicious but didn’t see anything or anyone out of the ordinary. The snow was really coming down now, and we still had a thirty-minute drive to get to the resort. “Come on, I’ll drive around to your car to be safe.”

“Is this how you always live?”

I looked over at her as I started the truck and shrugged. “Don’t you? Never fear that any of those you’re chasing will come for you one day?”

“Not really, or I hadn’t thought about it until now,” she said. “We usually catch whoever we’re hunting, or they hide from us.”

“Well, if I were you, I’d start looking over your shoulder. Just a wise piece of advice, not a threat.” Savannah grabbed her bag, and we sat in silence on the way to the resort my family owned.

My earlier happy bubble had popped. My mind was filled with thoughts of what Fat Ricky wanted and what Savannah would do with the information I gave her. Nothing in this world was easy, and it was never free. You had to take what you wanted, and then you had to defend it with your life to keep it.

The world of people who revolved around us didn’t have a fucking clue that they were always swimming with sharks. They wore suits and drove nice cars but were far deadlier than the worst man-eater. I glanced at Savannah out of the corner of my eye, and even though I knew she could take care of herself, I suddenly felt like I was dragging her down into the depths of this treacherous world. Not everyone was cut out for this life. Any day could be your last, but when you were born the son of mafia Don, your life expectancy decreased drastically. Only way around it was to become the bigger and more terrifying beast in the waters. Even then, nothing was ever for certain.

Even those like me, who were born into it and groomed from the time I could walk and talk, looked for ways to escape the jaws and sharp teeth of our families and the legacies that chased us. In the end, we were all caught and killed, and the next generation took our place. That was the reality of being born in my world, and it was why I couldn’t do to Savannah what was forced upon me.

No matter how much I wanted to keep her for my own, I needed to set her free.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

SAVANNAH

The closer we got to the resort, the less excited I became. Each mile marker was a reminder of why I was actually here. Up until now, it had felt like a whirlwind vacation of mystery and passion, as if we’d stepped out of real life and into a novel. The bad guy won the good girl, and there were no consequences for actions, but we weren’t living some fantasy. The reality was that I came here to investigate Nathan or the Mikhailov’s in general. Even if what he told me made me believe him or that his family didn’t kill Alex, I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was mafia. Not just connected but a very powerful and ruthless mafia family that was papered all over the walls at the FBI.

His father, Demetri, and other relatives still in Russia took up six feet of wall space with suspected kills, money laundering, illegal narcotic importing, and more. What the hell did I do with that? It wasn’t like I could walk Nathan into a work dinner, and the longer I stayed here, the more likely my photo would end up on the wall right beside the rest of the family, and I would find myself questioned and out the door.

“Hey,” Nathan said, touching my arm and making me jump. “You okay?”

I looked at him and realized we had parked in front of a stunning resort. It was lit up in the darkness, and I could just make out the peak of a mountain as the backdrop. The snow had gotten worse, and the wipers were still going to keep the heavy white flakes off the windshield.

“Yeah, just…just thinking.”

“We better get inside before it picks up.”

Nodding, we hopped out of the truck, and I grabbed my bag from the back seat before meeting Nathan around the front. He held out his hand, and it felt natural to slip mine into his and link our fingers despite the scolding I’d just given myself.

We walked through two sets of automatic doors, and as soon as the concierge spotted Nathan, he ran over. Nathan never slowed his stride and let the man catch up.

“Sir, your room is all ready, and everything is as you asked. The chef is on standby. He will make whatever you desire this evening.”

Nathan’s eyes flicked to me, and he smirked. “I’m not sure the chef is qualified to make me what I desire, but I’m sure he’ll do a fine job.”

We stopped at the elevator, and Nathan held out his palm for the room key.