Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4) Read Online Free Page A

saying to Angela. “My brother has gotten to know a few of them pretty well.” He put the phone between his ear and shoulder and reached over to turned the heat up. He must have noticed she was shivering—it wasn’t from the cold. “I read about the territorial one a couple of months ago. He and his partner landed that multi-residential deal everyone was bidding for on the Lower East Side. Word on the street was, rather than their lawyers, Alek Tarasov and Markus Fane kicked some serious ass during negotiations. Two high-profile families with questionable ties…”
    Sacha tuned him out as he and Angela speculated about something Sacha knew for certain. The ties were not only questionable, they were unbreakable. Because they were family ties that bound those men together. The fact that most of them didn’t share the same blood made no difference. They were family. A brotherhood. Bratva.
    She couldn’t have said where the Tarasovs were more influential, in the U.S. or in Russia, where she’d heard talk of them all her life. Whether it was on the news or at her family’s dinner table—not that she’d paid much attention back then—their name had usually been but whispered with equal parts fear and respect. She remembered the knowing looks her parents exchanged when photos would surface of Alekzander’s grandfather with highly respected political leaders. They’re everywhere , her father would murmur under his breath.
    It wasn’t until she moved away from home after her parents’ death that Sacha had her first personal interaction with a real-life member. She’d come to New York because a family friend’s daughter had made the move the year before. She and Irena had been close growing up. Not to the same extent their mother’s were, but still, Sacha had always thought they’d had a connection. Irena, it turned out, wasn’t the sentimental type, because when Sacha showed up at the address she was given for a hair salon in Brighton Beach, her childhood “friend” had had no interest in renewing their acquaintance. Sacha hadn’t minded that so much after seeing the marked difference in the girl she used to know. The most obvious being the droopy eyes and purple bruises in her elbow creases.
    Without fretting over the change in plans, Sacha had moved on and settled into a minuscule apartment. She’d gravely insulted the three and a half years of university she had under her belt by taking a job at a small diner. But she never let herself dwell on the fact that she was completely alone in a strange city where her grasp of the language wasn’t the best.
    Those first months were actually a lonely, frightening existence that she, thankfully, hadn’t had to suffer through for very long.
    On a day just as stressful as any other—her boss had been an intolerant jerk—she’d gone to one of her assigned tables to greet two men in smart suits. They’d looked up from their tattered menus, and despite Gabriel Moretti’s dark, handsome looks, she’d barely glanced at him. She hadn’t been able to tear her eyes from Alekzander Tarasov. Within minutes of meeting him, he’d turned her world upside down, and it had yet to right itself.
    “Okay.” Justin dropped her phone into her purse. “You can start by telling me who Sacha is. Or should I ask who Sarah Brighton is? I knew with an accent like yours that couldn’t be your real name. Had considered it might be your married name. Are the Tarasovs the reason you use it? Come on, Sar—uh, Sacha. Talk to me. The lack of information here is making my brain hurt.”
    She took a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose, trying to buy some time. How much should she say? Justin had given Alekzander his name, which meant they’d know in moments, if they didn’t already, who he was and where to find him. And that meant they would find her. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew Maksim Kirov would get the information he needed, and then that powerful group of men they’d