Page 78 of Goodnight, Sinners

He’d gone in to talk to her, to tell her that Dasha had been taken into custody. He’d been determined to keep his temper, but every step that brought him closer to her reminded him that yet another person he loved had betrayed him. He tried to tell himself that Shaun didn’t understand his world, didn’t understand the loyalty that was expected of her.

Then he’d seen her and forgotten everything except how it could have easily been her instead of Ayaan staring down the barrel of Dasha’s gun that morning.

If her bodyguard hadn’t been quick in both thoughts and actions, Jozef might not have known what was going on. Dasha was highly intelligent and had been coming and going from the hospital pretty much from the day after Krystoff’s death onward.

Jozef had gotten his hands on the hospital CCTV tapes and had traced her every step. Dasha was good at hiding, very good. She was also aware of where every camera was and the angles they could reach. She’d carefully maneuvered through the hospital like a dancer on a stage. Sometimes Jozef would lose her only to pick her back up again when she reappeared on a different floor, unable to avoid all the cameras.

Of course, he could have gotten to Dasha at any time. She was staying in an apartment in the city, and though she did her best to cover her tracks as she moved through Prague, Havel was the best tracker on staff. He’d pinpointed her location almost from the moment she’d started using the tiny apartment as a home base.

Jozef had chosen not to grab Dasha for a few reasons. Though he wanted her dead, he appreciated the poetic justice of forcing her to take the fall for the entire Koba family. He wanted her to languish in prison, knowing that if she hadn’t betrayed Jozef, he would have protected her until the day she died. She had helped raise him, turning him into the protector he eventually became. But rather than taking advantage of his protective instincts, she turned on him.

Now, he would turn on her. He would allow others to torture her with confinement until he was ready to strike.

The second reason he didn’t outright kill his aunt was the more important one. He didn’t want Shaun to look at him differently. Interpol had alerted her to Dasha’s presence. If Dasha disappeared and Interpol came after Jozef, Shaun would find out.

She thought he couldn’t live with Dasha’s death on his hands, but she was wrong. Dasha’s death would satisfy the beast in him who craved justice. A twisted version of justice, yes, but justice, nonetheless.

What he couldn’t live with was knowing the woman he loved above all else would look at him and see a killer. Somehow, miraculously, she did not see him as a murderer now. Though logically she knew it was true, she still allowed his hands to touch her body, allowed his love to live in her heart.

If he killed his aunt and Shaun found out, her feelings would change.

Like her body, he was also responsible for protecting her heart and her soul. As angry as he was with her, he wouldn’t do anything to shatter her feelings for him.

Instead, he would bide his time and allow Dasha to rot until he was ready to make a move that wouldn’t involve Shaun or his cousins.

His anger gradually dissipated as he reminded himself of the reasons he’d allowed Shaun her subterfuge at the hospital. He despised her lack of trust in him, but he couldn’t fault her. Not really. He kept secrets too.

Havel met him at the car, which was idling out front of the mansion. Havel’s gaze was irritated as Jozef descended the stairs.

“Can’t you make a single move with this woman that doesn’t mean disrupting the entire household?” Havel complained.

Despite his anger with Shaun, Jozef grinned.You’re just angry because you won’t get to throw the bachelor party.

“Fuck you,” Havel grumbled. “I was getting my ass handed to me by your recruit when you texted. I didn’t even get to change out of my gym clothes. It’s on you if your new bride isn’t happy with your best man’s lack of tuxedo.”

Havel was wearing sweatpants and a sweaty T-shirt that clung to his broad chest and muscular arms. His bald head was shiny and beaded with sweat. He held a leather jacket in his hands, too hot from his recent workout to put it on, though they were firmly in winter with snow on the ground.

Jozef frowned, maybe he should send Havel to his suite in the barracks to change.

Before Jozef could do that, Havel’s eyes went past him and landed on something behind Jozef. Or someone.

Jozef turned to look at his bride-to-be.

She was stunning, radiant, beautiful, though she looked much the same as she did any other day. She wore one of the dresses Jozef had handed her and a puffy winter coat. It wasn’t the way she looked but the knowledge that they would finally tie themselves together in name, spirit and love, that captivated Jozef, making her shine with a new beauty.

Shaun was holding a small bouquet, likely taken from one of the vases that filled the mansion, a holdover from Dasha’s reign. His aunt used to ship in flowers from all over the world to brighten the mansion and give it a floral scent.

The flowers told Jozef that Shaun had worked out what was about to happen.

She glided down the stairs, graceful in her heels, and stopped in front of Jozef, glaring at him. They were eye level.

“I decided weeks ago that I wanted to marry you, so don’t think I’m doing this because you told me to.” She poked him in the chest with the flowers. “You’re a bully and it’s a lucky thing that I’m in love with you or I’d be setting fire to this mansion rather than marrying your sorry ass.”

She turned to climb regally into the car, but Jozef gripped her arm and swung her around. He forced her back over his arm and kissed her, taking her lips in a passionate kiss that he would normally save for the bedroom.

Every ounce of the anger he’d felt earlier dissipated as their lips met. She loved him, and that was what mattered. She’d kept secrets from him to protect him. It was something he couldn’t allow her to do in the future, but he appreciated the motive behind her secrecy.

“I think you’re supposed to speak the vows first, then kiss.” Havel’s voice was dry but amused. “Not that I’m an expert on marriage.”

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