Blake: A Romantic Suspense (V Mafia Series Book 1) Page 2

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what Volkov is.” A smirk rested behind his features, but I noticed his jaw tensed when a buzzer echoed into the air.

  The stadium quickly cleared out as people went to get their beer and snack refills. Music blasted as the shouting fans exited, and I searched the field for Blake. He’d already left with the rest of the team.

  Not that it mattered.

  “Looking for someone?” Sarina teased.

  “Not even.”

  “Then why’d you just turn red?”

  I rolled my eyes and took a bite of the steak salad that I still had in front of me. It was better for me than the pretzel and cheese sauce anyway.

  “So is this like a halftime?” I asked, taking another bite of salad.

  “It’s only fifteen minutes. Actually, I think there are only twelve minutes with the injury time they added on,” Abram said, busily texting someone. I was surprised he was getting any service. My phone was so slow in the stadium that I gave up trying.

  I nodded.

  “Looks like lover boy is coming back out,” Sarina said, pointing and standing up.

  I smacked her finger down because with these seats, Player 11 would literally be able to see us ogling.

  I felt bad for caring just because a player was cute. I wasn’t usually that kind of person, but I also wasn’t a soccer person. Actually, I wasn’t into sports in general, so I’d fully embrace whatever it took to stay awake. If a good-looking player at eye level made me appear interested, so be it.

  Sarina took a seat as a loud boom echoed into the stadium, signaling the second half was starting again, and the crowd went wild.

  “Now for the good stuff.” Abram laughed, throwing his head back.

  A knot formed in the bottom of my stomach for absolutely no reason.

  I looked over at my friend to see if she noticed anything, which she apparently hadn’t, and I forced myself to get over it.

  I took in a deep breath. This was precisely what happened when I spent three days straight discussing character traits and behaviors. A person could only be so mindful before going a little nuts, and I suddenly felt on the verge for thinking such thoughts.

  Until Abram shot up from his seat and stared at the field.

  I watched Abram trading glances between his phone and the field. The energy rolling off him didn’t match the festive mood of the stadium. He was on edge, and he nervously tapped his index finger on his pants all while staying keenly aware of his surroundings. He was definitely waiting for something.

  I took in a deep breath and forced myself to get a grip. Not everything had to be laced with diabolical intent. Not all men were like the ones I’d worked with. They didn’t all need to be analyzed.

  Sarina cheered, and my gaze fell to the field in front of us where Blake and the blond player from before seemed to be juggling the ball back and forth. I watched the blond kick it away before a different player kicked it back when Blake intercepted the ball. Everything was fine. I was enjoying my first soccer game with friends.

  And that was when it happened. The blond swiped at Blake’s leg, and I heard it.

  A crack.

  The bone poked through Blake’s flesh, and my heart sank, watching Blake and his livelihood slump to the ground in agonizing pain.

  I stood up and ran to the low fence separating our area from the field. Abram came up beside me, his eyes as fidgety as his fingers.

  The stadium remained silent as Abram looked at me and then back to the unfolding scene. He glanced over his left shoulder into the crowd, giving a slight nod, before turning his attention back to the field.

  Medics and teammates from both sides swarmed a writhing Blake Volkov, and my heart hurt for him. Deep crimson had spread onto the field, and my body trembled from the sight.

  I felt hollow, but I couldn’t look away. I was watching a man who was experiencing a pain that would have most screaming in agony, but not Player 11. The writhing motion slowed, and his expression remained stoic and determined to get through whatever was before him.

  The blond player had backed away and fallen to his knees, digging his hands into his long hair, looking shocked and horrified at what he’d just done.

  But it was an accident.

  I closed my eyes and said a little prayer for the man on the field. He was strong and unwilling to let others see the pain inside him. I recognized the ability to pretend the hurt wasn’t as bad as it looked to outsiders.

  I opened my eyes to a deathly silent stadium as the medics rolled Player 11 onto a stretcher. My eyes connected with Blake’s, and what I saw scared me more than the accident.

  Desperation and sadness overrode whatever pain Blake was in. I swallowed back the tears that my profession so easily produced as I put myself in Player 11’s shoes.

  “My gawd. That was awful,” Sarina said, coming up behind me. “If that doesn’t give you nightmares on the plane ride back . . .”

  I shivered and nodded slowly, watching Blake being hauled off the field.

  Abram’s phone buzzed, and I glanced at a text that came over his screen.

  Mission Accomplished. Nice work.

  My body stiffened as Abram’s cold, brown eyes met mine, and I knew Abram Vasiliev was behind whatever just went down.

  Chapter Three

  Blake

  “You’ve had only the best treatment. We’ve seen to it,” Jaxson scoffed, taking a seat on the chair by the window. “No thanks to that team of yours.”

  Jax is my oldest brother. He propped his elbows on his knees and stared in front of him, refusing to look in my direction.

  My family resented that I didn’t go into the family business, but I resented being expected to turn a blind eye and pretend everything my family did was acceptable.

  It wasn’t and never would be.

  “If we’d let that team of yours treat you, you’d still be in some hospital room somewhere with no hope of—”

  “With no hope of what?” I snapped. “With no hope of playing again? Because from what I’ve been told, that’s my prognosis regardless of who treated me.” I gritted my teeth and stared at my brother. “This is what you’ve always wanted.”

  “You’re wrong. This is my worst fear.” He let out a sigh and sat back, stretching his legs in front of him.

  “Could you at least look at me when you lie?” I scowled and waited.

  “I’m your brother. Why would I or any of us want you hurt?” Jax stared at me.

  “Because any chance you get, you’ve all told me it was my turn to step into the business.” My eyes connected with his. “Now it seems as if that’s my only option.”

  I had to look away. All of my siblings shared the same blue eye color as me, and it was a stark reminder of how very little separated them from me.

  Truthfully, playing soccer was the only thing that was all my own. It set me apart from a life riddled with unscrupulous dealings and dodging the truth and the police. When I was on the road, I could simply forget that I had a family running the streets of New York and a mother counting the seconds for me to step in and join the family business.

  Playing professionally was a dream come true, and now I was facing my worst nightmare. I glanced around the bedroom and let out a frustrated groan.

  I’d been stuck in this guest bedroom at my mom’s house at Oyster Cove for three weeks. To call it a house was an understatement. It was an estate crawling with family, staff, and business associates. It didn’t scream home to me. It stopped being home the moment my sister, Vera, was murdered inside these walls.

  My pulse accelerated, and I glanced out the window overlooking the meticulously maintained gardens. Pale blue silk curtains framed the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I was suffocating under a matching duvet.

  Everything about this place spoke of the generations who’d lived here before. I stared at the coved ceilings with gold inlays and shut my eyes.

  It was my nightmare. There was a reason I rarely visited.

 
; “What is it you want?” I asked my brother with my eyes still closed.

  “What makes you think I want something, Blake?” His voice was cold and distant. Ever since his divorce, he’d turned into a different person.

  There had been a time when he understood my desire to escape our lifestyle. Now, he was bitter and treated everyone, including his blood, as an enemy.

  “You don’t usually hang out with family midday unless there’s something you want or need.” I cleared my throat. “Or a job that needs to be done.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  I heard my brother move and I opened my eyes. I shoved the duvet down and glared at him. I didn’t feel like hoisting myself up and over, grabbing the crutches, and hobbling anywhere around him. It would put him at a distinct advantage. He’d play on my weaknesses while gloating over his strengths, and at the moment, he held the upper hand.

  “Because that’s how it’s always worked in the past.” I watched my brother turn to look out the window. “Since when did gardening interest you?” I asked flatly.

  Jax spun around slowly and glanced at my exposed legs.

  They no longer matched. My right leg was now wrapped in a white cast with a metal contraption surrounding the knee. Several of my teammates had stopped by after my last surgery and signed the cast.

  It was bittersweet on many levels.

  “Your injury wasn’t an accident.” He pressed his lips together and brought his gaze to mine as I let out a hollow laugh.

  “Jesus. Can’t you, just for once, get over yourself?” I shook my head in disgust. “It’s soccer. I was injured. End of story.”

  And now he had to rub my nose in it?

  “Your injury was one of the worst in soccer’s history.” His brow arched. “Here or abroad.”

  “Yeah, and some could say the injury in ’96 on the defender with his tibia and fibula busting out of his flesh could be the worst one before that.” I crossed my arms. “Are you going to tell me that someone was out to get that guy too?”

  I watched him force a swallow down his throat. “No. I wouldn’t tell you that, but we have reason to believe you were targeted in order to send us a message.”

  “Clear across the country?” The fury raced through my veins. I shot up in my bed and glowered at Jax. Of course it was all about the mafia again. Everything in the world always revolved around them, even when it didn’t.

  This was why I loved being on the road and away from the drama.

  “If my career was ended because my family interacts with the filth of the earth, I’ll never forgive you or anyone who—”

  “Hey, there.” My brother, Drake, rolled into the bedroom, unbuttoning his black suit jacket, only slowing when he felt the toxic energy zipping through the room. “I’m guessing you told him.”

  Drake eyed Jax before bringing his gaze to mine.

  “So you believe it too?” I asked, attempting to lick my lips.

  My entire mouth felt dry. I felt sick. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to be back on the field. That was the only place that ever handed me peace, and now it was gone.

  “Unfortunately, there are several things that point to a hit of some sort. Has Jax filled you in?”

  “He wouldn’t let me get that far,” Jax grumbled.

  “Your delivery is never great.” Drake smiled.

  The anger running through my veins slowly traded out for despair as I watched Jax pacing by the window.

  My career was ended because of a life I could never truly get away from.

  No matter how hard I’d tried to do everything in my power to stay away from what my family was involved with, the V Mafia still took me down.

  This life took away my sister.

  My father.

  And countless others.

  But I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to wind up in this underbelly of society. It wasn’t my world. I didn’t belong in it, and I’d fight it every step of the way. If my brothers thought they could lure me in because of this, they guessed wrong.

  “The pass was made, and I intercepted it,” I said dryly, refusing to look at Drake. “It was a player I’d been putting pressure on the entire game. It’s no surprise he tackled me the way he did.”

  “I’ve seen the footage,” Drake said quietly, taking a seat next to my bed. “It looked like he wanted to kill you.”

  “He swept my feet.” I swallowed the tightness in the back of my throat. “It’s soccer, not the ruthless world you live in, and I’d appreciate if you two would get a grip. I have to put the rest of my life back together, and I don’t have time for your games.”

  “It’s not a game,” Drake said quietly.

  The bitterness ran deep. I hated the underground lifestyle my family was involved in. I understood it was generations old, but I didn’t live the same backward life. I didn’t hang around people who’d kill you for looking sideways at them. My brothers did.

  That was what separated me from them.

  “I left the streets to you, remember? That’s not how Major League Soccer rolls.” I didn’t even realize my teeth were gritted until my brother glanced at my jawline. “It was an accident, pure and simple.”

  “We have evidence to the contrary.” Jax sat down again, clasping his hands together.

  Couldn’t my brothers, for once in their lives, just accept that bad things happen without some ulterior motive?

  “I highly doubt it.” I leaned back in bed and pulled up the covers. I hated feeling helpless. If I didn’t have to hobble out of the room, I would have left minutes ago, never to return. “If that’s the case, why didn’t I hear it from the coach? The league would be interviewing me and everyone who’s ever stepped on an MLS field.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Jax asked.

  “I know it to be fact.”

  “Is that so?” His dark brow arched up, and I wanted to deck him.

  “Three years ago, ten players got banned for throwing games. I was even deposed. These things don’t go unnoticed in the league.”

  Drake’s lip turned up slightly. He usually had my back. Drake had actually been the one to cheer me on. He was one of the few who came to watch me play. Now, I wasn’t so sure which side of the fence he fell on.

  “It’s deeper than a little illegal betting,” Jax said, glancing out the window again.

  “Since you seem to know so much about the subject, why don’t you tell me what you think went on?” I crossed my arms and watched Jax walk to the door and spin around.

  “The player who took you out was paid a large amount of money to sweep you like that.” Jax ran his fingers along his jawline and glanced at Drake. “Someone got in touch with us and explained a few worrisome things that happened before the accident. We were able to piece together the rest.”

  “It wasn’t an accident. It was a sports injury,” I corrected.

  Jax shrugged his shoulders. “How about you be the judge after you meet with someone?”

  “Who’s the someone?” I asked, not in the mood to play my brothers’ games.

  “Her name is Ava. She went to a lot of trouble to reach out to us.” Drake stood up. “She’s here, in fact. She agreed to tell you what she saw.”

  “Fine. Whatever. Bring her in.”

  Drake stood up and walked out with Jax, but they didn’t return.

  Instead, my other brother Devin came in.

  Behind him, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen walked into the room, but there was something familiar about her. I watched her carefully, trying to put my finger on where I’d seen her before.

  Leave it to my brothers to find someone they thought would distract me. That was what they thought my life consisted of—women and more women. I let out a silent sigh as she walked into the bedroom with confidence that few women held, and I was immediately drawn to her.

  Her brown hair was swept into a sleek ponytail, which showed off her high cheekbones and wide-set eyes. She was wearing a tan trench coat, and my
gaze fell along her muscular legs to a pair of crimson heels. It was like my fourteen-year-old self’s dream girl came to life. I had to hand it to my brothers. They knew how to create a distraction, but I was beyond all of that. Being in a different city with different women over the years lost its luster rather quickly. Not that I’d ever tell my brothers that.

  Devin cleared his throat and my eyes shot to his.

  “This is Dr. Dalton,” Devin said, attempting to keep the grin off his face.

  She took a step forward and stretched out her hand. I sat up straighter and shook her firm grip, noticing her icy cold palm as her gaze locked on mine.

  “Nice to meet you, Dr. Dalton,” I said, taking in a deep breath.

  Everything about her was a turn-on. Her brown eyes sparkled with an intensity that made me imagine bringing her to the edge of ecstasy. Her lush lips begged to be kissed, and her full figure made my gaze betray me as I tried to stay focused on her eyes, but her breasts were nearly busting out of her top.

  Hell, she was sexy.

  “You can call me Ava.” Her hand slipped from mine, and she glanced at Devin before bringing her eyes back to me. “I’m sorry to intrude, Mr. Volkov.”

  I shook my head. “Blake is fine.”

  She licked her lips nervously, and my heart sputtered out of control. Watching her tongue drag along her bottom lip was beyond tantalizing as I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. It was like the confidence she marched in here with was slowly eroding away, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why.

  “What brings you here? Or did my brothers force you to come?” I smiled, but her expression fell and she shook her head frantically.

  “On the contrary. It’s taken me weeks to convince them to listen to me.” She narrowed her eyes on me as if she were second-guessing her decision to come here, but my mind was trying to place her. “Mr. Volkov, if this is a bad time, I can come back.” Her voice brought me back to the present, and I shook my head as she peered down at me through long, thick lashes.

  “It’s Blake, but no. Now’s fine.” I steadied my eyes on hers and waited. After all, I wasn’t the one who had something to say.