Gabriel's Regret: Book 1 (The Medlov Men Series 2) Read online

  See, Gabriel thought to himself, even in this you had to mention Anatoly.

  Wiping more tears, she looked down at the diamond bracelet on her dainty wrist that Gabriel had bought her for their one-year anniversary and yanked it off, breaking the delicate clasp. Throwing the bracelet at him, she cursed again. “You give me all of these things that I could never afford on my own, just to make me realize what I’d be missing if you left me. Then you treat me like shit to show me how much you don’t want me. You’re as psychotic as your fucking father. Maybe worse because you know better!”

  Gabriel tried, though it was growing difficult, to ignore her harsh comments. Regardless of what Ivan had done, she had no right to mention his father. What did she know about Ivan Medlov? What did she know about the Vory v Zakone? What did she know about anything?

  “I give you these things because I want to.” He bent and picked up the $100,000 bracelet and set it carefully on the bed. He talked to himself the entire time, telling himself not to blow a fuse, not to lose his cool, even though lately it had been so easy to do.

  In his voice, she could hear that she had finally hit a nerve and in her despair that notion brought comfort. Talking about Ivan Medlov pained him. Good, she would zero in on that now and dig into his open wound until she hurt him as much as he had hurt her.

  “You give me these trinkets, because Dmitry and Anatoly give them to their wives,” Briggy hissed. “You give them to me because you want to feel like you are one of them, and I am one of those women. But you are not one of those men, and I am not one those women.”

  Gabriel took a deep breath. Now she was questioning his fucking manhood? “Don’t do this, Briggy,” he warned.

  “Do what? Tell the truth,” she asked. “I know you of all people have a problem with that.”

  He gave a fuck-you laugh. With a smirk painted on his handsome face, he rolled his eyes, “I appreciate your candor but…”

  “Don’t do that!” Briggy pushed him as hard as she could, but he did not budge. Just a few inches from seven feet tall and 280 pounds of pure muscle, it was as if she were pushing against a brick wall. “You always say something smug when you want to berate me!” she scowled.

  “I’m not…” But he was about to berate her.

  “You are! Look at me, you fucking bastard!” She hit him again, this time with a closed fist in his lower abdomen.

  Gabriel shook his head and stepped back. Wiping a thumb over his nose, he picked up the poorly packed bag. “I can’t fight with you anymore. You’re all over the place. First, you’re crying, then you want to hit me, then you want to insult me. You know what? I’m done with this Mickey Mouse bullshit. You want a man? I’m being one. When I get back, then we can talk. Maybe by then, you’ll have your head on straight.”

  Briggy was happy. Finally, she got some emotion out of him. “I don’t want to talk anymore!” she screamed. “I’m tired of talking to you! All you do is lie anyway! You’re a liar; you always have been. You lied to get into this family. You lied to stay connected to it. You’re the only one who doesn’t belong here and that makes you feel emasculated, so the only way to prove yourself worthy as a man is to use your dick. Well, that’s not good enough, Gabriel Medlov. No matter what, you’re still a boy despite your best efforts, which are pathetic at most. You’re a boy dealing with grown men who see right through you. Hell, I see right through you, and I’m sick of it! You disgust me!”

  He glared at her with wild eyes. Had she lost her damn mind? The very thought that she saw anything beyond her blind ambition was hilarious.

  His voice was grave and foreboding now. “Don’t push me, Briggy. You may think you’re mad, but…”

  “But what?” She pulled a wild strand of blonde hair from her face and flared her nostrils at him. “But what, you sell out?”

  Fuck it. Gabriel couldn’t take her words anymore. They were like nails digging down a chalkboard in his ears. Feeling his anger boil over, he dropped the bag on the bed and stepped closer to her.

  His eyes burned with anger. “I’ve taken my punches from you. I’ve listened to your insults. You say you want to go! Well, leave! It might be best for both of us. Just fucking go! I’ll put you up somewhere. I’ll pay for everything no different from what I’m fucking doing right now! All this is just one big asset-retention scheme, anyway. Well, don’t worry. You don’t stand to lose a thing, but the man who seems to be a fucking problem for you anyway. You no longer have to covet…”

  “I do not covet,” she snapped, insulted by his insinuation.

  “Who’s the fucking liar now?” He looked her up and down in disgust. “You do not fool me,” he said, voice low. “You don’t think I know all about your secret little wishes?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “You don’t know what I wish.” Or at least she prayed he didn’t.

  Gabriel stood up straighter and let her have it for once. Besides, she had it coming with her shabby ungrateful ass. “You wish you were Royal or Renee. You wish you had free reign over this place to be the spoiled rotten, over-pampered housewife with a shit load of entitled kids to hold as collateral over your husband’s head, the woman who decides what colors go on the walls in the villa in Tuscany, what thousand-dollar-a-piece fucking dinner plates to buy for Christmas dinner and where in the world the entire family, whether they like it or not, spends the holiday. You wish you were at the top of the mob wife food chain, instead of with a lowly council member as his live-in girlfriend to use your words. You wish we could forget that you were the help. You wish you could forget that my mother was a fucking lady of the English Royal Court while yours was a poor dying cancer patient who couldn’t afford to pay her bills, so you talk about my father every chance you get to keep me grounded and embarrassed, when the truth of the matter is that you’re still embarrassed that you had to go and work for the big bad Black woman in her guarded mansion to make ends meet.”

  Briggy was mortified by Gabriel’s words. He had never in his life spoken to her like that. She reached up and slapped him as hard as she could, but that didn’t stop Gabriel. He sneered at her and continued.

  “You’d do anything to be with the Czar, and it doesn’t matter who that is as long as he has the title. If you had to, you’d fuck Dmitry, but you’re scared you’ll end up like Victoria. You wish you were still with Anatoly, but he dumped you for Renee and left you to clean his sheets after he fucked her in the bed he used to screw you in. But a man like that would never give a damn about you, no matter how many tears you shed. So you went after the pitiful boy of a cousin that everyone can see straight through, according to you, because it makes you feel better to have me around so that you can say that you have at least one of the Medlov men, even though it took you being passed around like a fucking baby wipe to land one. Better than being out on your ass or fetching Royal her afternoon cocktail for the rest of your life.”

  He wiped his lips and smirked at her. “But you did get me, didn’t you. You clever little hungry minx. And everything that you’re bitching about, and at the same time enjoying, comes from the hard work that I do, the money that I make, because if it were up to Anatoly, we would have left your ass on a stump in Prague with a homeless sign around your neck. I’m in a business where I can be killed or sent to prison for the rest of my life at any time; I’ve got people who want me dead and want you dead for screwing me, and you want to talk to me about being weak and scared when you haven’t done anything of value since you blew me six months ago. Well, you’re just as weak as I am. But at least I have a birth right to be here, and I’m not just using my best guilt trip and holding a man hostage using my miserable fucking cunt as a bargaining tool!” He stopped himself, realizing that his words had sent Briggy pale. He didn’t mean to say cunt. He didn’t mean to scream, but she just would not stop pushing him, insulting him, berating him. After taking a well-needed breath, he shrugged her off. “Just pack your things, find a map, pick a place and get out of my fucking life before you drive me in
sane.”

  His words cut her deep. In fact, she had to look down just to make sure that she was not bleeding. “Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes, I want to fucking leave. I want to take me and my baby as far away from you as possible, because you are not worth it.”

  “Baby?” Gabriel’s mouth flew open. She had just kicked the air right out of his diaphragm. Running a hand through his black mane, he shook his head and looked at her hands touching her stomach. He glanced up at her without an ounce of pity. “You know; you really have the worst fucking timing I’ve ever seen in my life. You couldn’t have just said 15 minutes ago that you were pregnant? You couldn’t have just told me instead of doing this shit!”

  “This shit needed to be said,” she said viciously, but inside she knew that was a lie.

  “No, you had to push me to say these things to you so that you would feel better about leaving me, better about being dumped!” His eyes gleamed with malice. “Well, good. Fucking great, Briggy. I hope that you got what you asked for.” His eyes watered. “You fucking deserve it.”

  Briggy had not expected the tears or his response, and she knew at that moment that she should have handled things differently. She definitely should have never pushed him to his breaking point. But neither one of them could go back and change one word, because it was all true, even what he had said about her.

  Gabriel sucked his teeth. “I am done fighting with you, period.”

  “I shouldn’t have said those things,” she said quickly, putting up a hand in protest. Maybe they could just calm down for a moment and regroup.

  But Gabriel didn’t give a shit anymore and he definitely didn’t want to hear anymore. “Like I said, I’m done.”

  He turned and headed toward the door.

  “Gabriel, don’t go,” she called out, desperate to fix this.

  “We will talk when I return.”

  Seeing him leave despite her news of the baby was more painful than anything he had said to her. She had only one thing left in her arsenal to keep him from stepping outside of that door. “I’ll be gone when you get back,” she warned, voice trembling. “You will never see this baby again if you leave now.”

  Gabriel looked down at the floor and shook his head. Why did she have to threaten him now on top of everything? He turned slowly to her. “You might have forgotten who I am, so please do not put me in a position to remind you.” His tone was different now. It reeked of finality. “You leave this house with my child, I’ll find you. I swear it on your life. My mother did that to my father. You know that, because I told you. I refuse to allow you to do that to me.” He adjusted the bag on his large shoulder. “Now, we’ll talk about this like adults when I get back. Then you can do whatever the hell you want to do. Until then, you are to stay here under my uncle’s supervision. Don’t call me. Don’t text me.”

  “I hate you!” she screamed, picking up a crystal candlestick holder and throwing it across the room. The shards hit the floor and shattered into pieces. “I hate the day that I ever laid eyes on you. You’re a fucking asshole!”

  Fist gripping the doorknob, body leaning across the threshold, he refused to look back. “Yeah, well…same to you princess,” he said, walking out of the door and slamming it shut behind him.

  Chapter One

  When duty calls…

  The Beverly Hills Hotel

  Beverly Hills, California

  7:00 p.m. PST

  The sun was setting on Sunset Boulevard on a Friday evening in the middle of spring. For anyone else, that would be the cue to kick off an unforgettable weekend. For one man in particular, it was his cue to head home.

  From his private luxury suite, the hues of blue, gold and red on the horizon was a breathtaking view to behold, but one that was completely lost on Gabriel, who was thoroughly consumed with his present duties. This wasn’t a vacation or a quick getaway to see some woman. It was business as usual. Millions of dollars were on the line and his name attached with it.

  With his back to the windows that were heavily guarded by his armed men who walked the perimeter of the enchanting patio with bulky automatic weapons and Bluetooth earpieces, Gabriel sat on the sofa reviewing the documents hand-delivered to him by their Ukrainian client’s US liaison.

  Over the years, Gabriel had learned his job well and took great pride in the detail it required. Being a common thief wasn’t enough for what the Medlov Crime Family did for a living. It took skill and finesse. In high-grade weapons trafficking, there was far too much money involved to simply exchange hands like in the movies. It had to be properly laundered with layers of shell companies, lines items and bank transactions. The good thing was that as a former DEA agent, he had been taught what to look for, how to flag possible fraud and as a Council member of his family’s syndicate, he knew what to do to keep their business from sending up red flags to the government.

  Releasing a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose and set the papers on the sofa beside him. “Everything appears to be in order,” Gabriel said, nodding at Allan Roman, a straight-laced businessman who on paper was a generic, Brooks Brothers wearing numbers man and a second-generation trader for his family’s firm, but in fact he was an unsuspecting entrepreneur who had been working in illegal munitions buys for his compatriots back in the Ukraine since he was a freshman in undergrad at UC Berkeley.

  Allan sat back in his chair and exhaled. “Good. I’m very glad that you are pleased with the proposal. There is the matter of just one more thing.”

  It never failed. There was always one more thing with buyers. “Yes,” Gabriel said, waiting.

  “With this kind of shipment and considering the current climate in the country, we will need assurance that the weapons will reach our soldiers,” Allan said, opening his computer.

  “What kind of assurance?” Gabriel asked, slightly annoyed.

  “A personal escort,” Allan said, heart skipping a beat as the possible negotiations began.

  Gabriel’s face didn’t change. His pensive glare stayed on Allan. “That I can recall the Medlov’s have never misplaced a shipment in the decades that we’ve been in business. What makes you think that it will happen this time?”

  Allan swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure what type of man that Gabriel Medlov was, but he had heard of the notoriously short temper of his cousin, Anatoly Medlov, during negotiations. Sometimes, the entire deal went up in smoke and the messenger of bad news with it. But Gabriel had kept a cool head during the entire deal, reading and talking in a low calm baritone that mirrored a man with a reason. So, he had to push for more, especially with so many people depending on him to get this right.

  Allan retracted his last statement. “Let me be clear. We are not questioning your competence at all.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “Well, whose competence are you questioning, if not ours,” he asked, picking up the water bottle on the table and taking a sip. Uncrossing his legs, he looked at his watch, indicating this meeting had nearly reached the end of its time for him.

  “Our soldiers are in the middle of a war with not only Russian soldiers, but also Nazi separatists and sympathizers in the government. We are being attacked on all sides.”

  “I’m aware of this,” Gabriel said coolly. “This is not the first civil war that we’ve been outsourced for. We’ve basically had a hand in all of them since the fall of the USSR. What’s your point? Why do you need a personal escort now?”

  Allan tried to speak with reason and get the man to understand their vulnerable state. His voice trembled mildly, although he tried hard to hide it. “We are consolidating many of our resources within the country to finance our munitions buys, and if we are compromised during the drop of these supplies and they fall into enemy hands, then we are at a serious disadvantage and face the very real possibility of losing this war.”

  Sounded like an operational issue to Gabriel. “I can sympathize with your situation, but I doubt our delivery tactics will be a problem. Our men deliver the products where we first agreed
. When they arrive, and it changes hands, it’s your responsibility to make sure that they don’t fall into the wrong hands.”

  Allan’s face contorted into a frown. He needed this favor. “Gabriel, is it possible to request a private escort from you? The Medlov name resonates on all sides of the war. Ukrainian government officials respect you as well as the Russian military. The Nazi separatists, however, do not respect you because you won’t do business with them. This is a known thing, even in our country.”

  “We don’t do business with the Nazis,” Gabriel reiterated, “But I don’t understand what that has to do with the price of tea in China.”

  Allan removed his glasses and sank his shoulders. “Even though they have no respect for you, they fear you. They know that they cannot go to war with you as well as fight both sides of the battle in the Ukraine. If your men deliver the product, we have a higher probability of not being sabotaged. We also have a higher probability of not being targeted by government officials. You move with impunity- that is why we do business with you. However, we do not have such luxuries.”

  Gabriel’s back hurt from sitting in the same spot for two hours. He needed the hotel masseuse to come up and work him over. Standing up from the sofa casually, he stretched his long arms out wide and yawned.

  Decisions, decisions, decisions.

  Walking over past the piano to the window finally, he stared out at the yellow glow of the sun setting on the horizon and wished to be anywhere else. He could feel Allan’s eyes staring at his back, hoping for an answer but Gabriel was hesitant. The reason that the Medlov Crime Family did what they did so well was because they never deviated from their original plan. Still…

  “Let me make a call,” Gabriel said, taking off his cufflinks and pushing his sleeves up on his elbows. He glanced back at Allan. “Stay here.” Pulling out his cell, he made his way to the bedroom.

  ***

  Closing the door behind him, Gabriel went into the marble bathroom and turned on the faucet. He dipped his large hands under the cool water and splashed it in his face. “Wake up,” he said aloud, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His green eyes were red from a long day of business and his stomach growled. But this deal was a priority of Dmitry Medlov, his uncle and the head of the council. So, it was the priority for him.