Under Control: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance
Under Control: Chapter 41

Karine doesn’t say much on the drive down to Baltimore. Anton’s in the back keeping contact with the other car of soldiers, but everything’s already been planned ahead of time. At this point, Anton’s just making sure nothing egregious goes wrong.

I’m not happy Karine’s here. Unfortunately, she insisted on being present, just in case something goes wrong with Arsen, I think I can talk to him. And once the girl has an idea in her head, it’s impossible to talk her out of it.

She’s probably not wrong, as much as that frustrates me. Arsen is her cousin, but those two have some kind of strange connection. It’s fucked, but I’m jealous of that relationship, not because I see the man as a rival—he’s her cousin, for fuck’s sake—but because I want to be that close with her. I want to understand her better than anyone in the world, and I want her to open up to me in ways she’d never dream about with anyone else.

It’s absurd, but I’m consumed by her.

Which is why she’s here. For all my talk about being the pakhan, I still can’t say no to my wife.

Around nine thirty, we park outside of a quiet-looking restaurant called Osteria Tuscana. I’m not sure what the Armenians are doing in an Italian place, but Arsen insisted this was where his father would meet with his top lieutenants to discuss how to respond to Miriam’s rescue.

“We have a small window,” I tell Anton and Karine once we’re in position. “Arsen thinks the meeting will start around now and last for an hour.” I check my watch and nod to myself. “He’ll send a signal, just a message through a secure texting app, letting us know when it’s time to move in. If no signal shows up, we head back home and regroup.”

“What about the people in there?” Karine asks, gesturing with her chin and frowning toward the big windows. Tables of average-looking diners are visible, though the place doesn’t look very crowded.

“We’ll deal with them.”

“You can’t hurt innocent people, Valentin.”

“We won’t,” I assure her and glance back at Anton. “Right?”

“Innocent people are such a pain in the ass,” he says with an exaggerated sigh. “We tend to leave them alone.”

“I feel so much better,” Karine says sarcastically.

“We’ll make sure they clear out before anything violent happens,” Anton says, sounding more serious this time. “The fewer witnesses, the better.”

That seems to mollify Karine, at least for now.

We settle in to wait. That’s the most difficult part of any operation for me. I can kick in doors, draw my gun on strangers, kick and punch, and take a beating, but that’s all action. That’s movement, that’s progress. It’s sitting here doing jack shit that I can’t handle. My knee jostles and I struggle to keep from busting out the door and rushing in the damn place.

Karine puts a hand on my leg. She looks at me, and her deep, beautiful eyes are surprisingly calming. I reach out and touch her gently, before pulling her close and kissing her softly.

Anton clears his throat. “I’m still back here,” he mutters.

“Thank you, I’m aware.” I ignore him and let Karine lean against my shoulder. She keeps me centered in a way I’ve never experienced. Normally, in the moments before a battle, I’m a wreck of overflowing energy, but suddenly it’s like a rough ocean’s gone totally flat.

I feel centered and in charge.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I took Karine as my wife because I wanted to save face when Oleg’s daughter ran out on me, and because I thought I could use her to get closer to her family. It was always about business with her.

Until something changed.

Maybe it was gradual, or maybe it was all at once. I don’t even know for sure. But I find myself obsessing about her constantly, and the only times I feel like I’m truly at peace are the moments when she’s touching me.

Those are the times when I know without a doubt that she’s safe.

Time drags on. Anton makes small talk and Karine indulges him. Normally, I’d tell him to shut the fuck up, but I guess she’s bringing the best out in me. An hour passes and I’m looking at the clock like it can’t be right, but there’s no message from Arsen, and the restaurant is still quiet.

“I’m going in there,” I announce and draw my gun.

“Absolutely not.” Karine shoves it down and glares at me. “You know the plan.”

“Something’s gone wrong. It’s been too long.”

“He said it wouldn’t be right away. He told us to wait.”

“We waited. Now I’m done waiting.” I gently push her back. “You stay here and don’t move until I’m back.”

“Hold on.” She looks at Anton for help, but he only shrugs. What can he do? I am the pakhan, and my word is law. If I say we’re going in, then we’re going in.

Karine tries to hold onto my arm, but that’s barely a nuisance. I push the door open, and I’m about to step out onto the sidewalk, when the front door of the restaurant opens.

Arsen and another young man come storming out.

I hesitate but slip back into the car and quietly close the door.

“That must be his brother,” Karine says, staring at the pair. They’re talking quietly and it looks like they’re having an argument.

Arsen gently pushes Tigran and points down the street. Tigran glares back and shakes his head. It’s obvious that Arsen’s trying to get his brother to leave, but his brother’s being stubborn.

“Now it makes sense,” Karine says, almost whispering like they might overhear. “This is why he didn’t call us in earlier.”

“Because he’s having a fight with his brother?” Anton asks.

“No, because he wanted to get his brother out of danger first, and his brother’s being a stubborn asshole.” Karine leans forward, watching intently. “Come on, Tigran, go home.”

I watch her, unable to peel my eyes away. It’s the intensity of her face, like her entire body is bubbling out and totally engaged in what’s happening. She’s beautiful, and the street lamp light makes her hair almost glow. It strikes me hard, how deeply in love with this girl I am.

The drama on the sidewalk finally ends with Tigran storming off. Arsen watches his brother go, his expression hard, before turning in our direction.

He nods once and disappears back inside.

“Tell the men to get ready,” I say to Anton.

And the text arrives moments later.

It’s time.