Page 53 of Untouchable Queen
Lucian’s head snaps back in my direction, his eyes scrutinizing. “I’m not putting you back on the battlefield. That was a reckless error in judgment on my part. You don’t have the experience leading men into a fight?—”
“Lucian.”
He stops, the tendon in his jaw ticking as he bites back the rest of his argument.
“I’m not asking to fight. I agree with you. If anything, I’m just a liability when it comes to violence. But if I lend you my men fora fight, would you protect and lead them like they’re your own? And would you have the force to crush Saturo?”
He pauses for a long time, his gaze thoughtful and intense. “Yes.”
“Good. Then I’ll speak with my men in the morning. I know they’re itching for a fight with the yakuza after what happened at the warehouse.”
Another long pause, then Lucian releases a heavy breath. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I let a slow smile spread across my lips as I savor the moment. I kind of like making strategies with my husband over pillow talk, and it’s the longest conversation we’ve had in a week.
Emboldened by it, I snuggle closer to his side, and relief washes through my chest when he lifts his arm so I can tuck myself beneath it.
“You know, if you wanted to repay me for my generosity, I can think of a few ways,” I tease lightly, my skin warming. I’m not used to dirty talk. Lucian’s so much better at it than I am, but I’m restless with the need for relief—the need to have my husband touch me.
But rather than taking the opening I offer, Lucian just presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m tired, Tatiana. And you’re still recovering. Not tonight.”
Each word lands like a physical blow to the chest.Tatiana, not tesoro?I can’t recall the last time he used one of his pet names for me. And we both know that Lucian has an insatiable appetite. Unless Saturo is still weighing heavily on his mind, I can’t imagine Lucian wanting sleep more than he wants sex—especially after a week without it.And still recovering?I’m back to my normal self—aside from the morning sickness. But until I’m ready to tell him the real reason why I’m throwing up, I can’t argue with his logic.
Once again, I’m fighting back tears at the sense of rejection. I miss Lucian. IwantLucian. But suddenly, it feels like there’s some invisible wall between us, and I don’t know when or why it appeared.
“Right,” I murmur, and to hide the fact that I’ve started to cry, I roll away from him to face the window once more.
31
LUCIAN
Feeling Tatiana’s warmth so close to me and feeling like she’s a hundred miles away is agony. But as we stand before our gathered men, I’m so intensely aware of her presence it makes my chest ache. It’s torture, having her here, calling her my wife, and yet knowing she doesn’t want any of it. All this time, I thought we were coming together—slowly but surely. I could make her happy if I stayed persistent. But she must feel like a prisoner in my world, a slave to the conditions she agreed to in order to save her sister’s life.
I’m a monster. That’s what this past week and a half of silence has told me. She still hasn’t said anything about being pregnant. At first, I worried that Saturo hit her hard enough, she might not remember. But when the morning sickness began and she continued to make light of it, saying it must be a side effect of the concussion, I knew. She trulydoesn’twant me to know she’s carrying my child. And that realization is the most agonizing one I’ve ever known.
“I’ll be there through the entire battle,” Tatiana says, her voice clear and authoritative as it rings across the warehouse, and the silence that greets her is filled with a respect that hadn’tbeen there the first time we tried to address our men as a united front. “I’ll be watching from the sidelines. Lucian and I both agree that in this case, he has more experience with physical battle. He’s a strong leader, and having one clear voice to lead the charge will make our position stronger. So, men, I expect you to follow him with the kind of loyalty you follow me, and know that I’m with you every step of the way.”
Her men cheer her, my men joining in until the rafters are ringing and my eardrums throb. It’s moving to see how passionately the men follow Tatiana. She’s a born leader, a woman who overcame our world’s prejudice to earn the respect of some of New York’s hardest men. It’s a thrill to know she’s my wife—but as soon as the thought enters my mind, that crushing sense of guilt returns.My wife but not by choice.
I don’t know how today will go, but if I make it out alive, I need to reassess where we go from here, because something needs to change. I see that now.
“We know where he’s going to be,” I say, stepping forward. “We know his men will be scattered, unprepared. That’s why my men will lead the charge, firing from a distance. We have the weapons to thin their forces before anyone has to fight hand to hand. I know you’re itching to spill yakuza blood after their filthy betrayal, but I want a clean victory—only Saturo will lose men today. And then, he’ll lose his head. Understood?”
The response is thunderous now, and I glance toward Tatiana, sharing a small smile of satisfaction that makes my heart skip a beat. She looks so damn gorgeous, dressed in a bloodred sheath dress with its high slit. Her black Kevlar vest that comes down to flair at her hips is both practical and stylish, and I swear, only Tatiana could find a fashion designer willing to make a bulletproof outfit for her. It’s the only reason I’m letting her come at all.
I can’t blame her for wanting to see Saturo dead after what he did. I intend to crush the yakuza to dust for betraying me and hurting my wife. But I don’t like that she insisted on coming. Even if Tatiana intends to keep her distance, it makes me nervous. She’s not just risking her life to be here—she’s risking our child’s. Maybe that’s the point. She doesn’t want it. She intends to get rid of it, and that’s why she isn’t telling me about it. The thought brings bile to my throat.She can’t possibly hate me so much that she could hate the child I put inside her, could she?
I shove the despicable thought aside. Tatiana is taking every precaution she can in order to be present for Saturo’s execution without putting her life in danger. Beside her, Natasha has agreed to serve as her personal bodyguard since Tatiana’s men are still recovering from their injuries. And after having fought the younger Sokolov sister a grand total of one time before, I know that no one will be getting near Tatiana. Natasha is a terrifying fighter—easily better than most men. That’s a relief, since I intend to be at the front lines, ready to take Saturo down the moment I see him.
“You know your jobs. You know the stakes. We end this fight today!” I shout and signal for everyone to roll out.
The convoy of Escalades that file out of Tatiana’s storage yard is a massive one—larger than the force she and Killian put together to bust down the front gates of my compound to fight me over a month ago. It’s strange to realize I’m on the other side of the fight now, crossing the boundary between Manhattan and the Bronx to crush an enemy I didn’t even know I had until a week ago.
Tatiana’s bringing up the rear—in a completely separate SUV than I am. I’m glad because I want her safe, and I need to focus. Having her near me puts my thoughts and emotions into tangled knots. I want her more than I want oxygen, but every time I’mwith her, all I can think about is why she’s keeping secrets from me. And only one reason makes sense—she still thinks we’re playing a game, and she intends to win.
Saturo’s home, nestled between the trees along Riverdale Park, is built in the Japanese style, with a sprawling zen garden and a bamboo forest lining either side of the winding drive. It feels serene—a sharp contrast to the treachery theoyabunis capable of. There is no impenetrable gate to keep his enemies out, and the place feels intensely calm and empty as the convoy pulls into the small driveway.
But as we put the Escalades in park and slowly climb from the vehicles, keeping our heads on a swivel, Saturo’s warriors start to filter out of the woodwork, silent and watchful as they stand along the edge of the bamboo.
