Bratva Bride: Chapter 14
I woke enveloped in warmth, strong arms embracing me against a bare chest. I instinctively leaned back and sighed in content. I closed my eyes and tried to drift back off to sleep, but it was too late. My mind and body were now wide awake, painfully aware of the fact Arturo was spooning me, his entire body encasing me like a cocoon.
He gripped me tight and pulled me closer to his body, nuzzling my neck. He took a deep breath in and sighed, relaxing.
I slowly lifted my head, my eyes squinting from the sunlight beaming into the room.
What time is it?
I turned to look at Arturo, his beautifully sculpted face relaxed in his sleep. Part of me wanted to wake him so I could look into those gorgeous multi coloured eyes, but I knew he needed his sleep. He had only come to bed a few hours ago, so I knew he was exhausted. I actually couldn’t believe my father allowed him to stay the night, especially in my room with me.
I slowly untangled his limbs from my body, being extra careful not to disturb his peaceful sleep. His arms tightened around me as I tried to move, like even in his sleep he didn’t want to let me go.
As the bed shifted, he turned to lie on his back, mumbling something incoherent in Italian. I took the time to appreciate his muscular and toned body. His chest was completely bare, giving me an unobstructed view of his body.
His tattoos encompassed the length of his entire upper torso. From his wrist up to his shoulders, fanning out over his chest, down his abdomen and wrapping around to his back. His gorgeous, tan skin was as smooth as silk, which was hard to believe considering the tough life he lived.
Of course he had a set of perfectly sculpted abs…six pack from the looks of it. No wait, eight. My fingers twitched at the sight of him lying in my bed, his dark hair fanned out over my pillow. I ached to run my hands down that immaculate body but I was too afraid to wake him. He deserved his sleep.
I rose to my feet and stretched out my body. I had no idea what he had planned for the day, whether he was hanging around Vegas or flying home. Either way, I knew he’d be hungry when he woke up, so I quickly chucked on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and made my way downstairs to the kitchen to make him some breakfast.
When I walked in, Lukyan was seated at the kitchen table, leaning back casually in his chair with his legs kicked up on the table, as per fucking usual. Mum used to hate it when he did that and I know if she were here right now, she’d be having a fit.
Don’t worry Mum, I gotcha covered.
As I walked closer I noticed he had his eyes shut, like he was sleeping. I slowly snuck up from behind, being careful not to make a sound. Before he sensed my presence, I lashed out, kicking the legs of his chair and sending him sprawling to the ground.
His big body hit the floor with a solid thud as he mumbled a curse in Russian. He immediately pulled out his gun and had it aimed at my chest in under a second.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. ‘If you had reacted that quickly earlier, you wouldn’t be sprawled out on your ass right now.’
He narrowed his eyes and cocked his gun. ‘I could still shoot you. Nothing wrong with a little flesh wound,’ he smirked.
‘You could, but we both know you won’t.’
He grunted and lowered his gun.
‘You deserved it anyway, you know Mum hated when you did shit like that.’
His face softened, the mention of our mother bringing out his softer side. He sat up and crossed his legs, for some reason deciding to stay on the ground.
‘You miss her,’ he stated, cocking his head to the side.
I moved to the kitchen and started preparing Arturo’s breakfast. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Of course I do, but I try not to think about it. About. . . her.’
I could understand that, but it was a little harder for me. With my wedding mere days away, it was even more painfully obvious she wasn’t here. This was something I had always envisioned her being a part of, right up until the day she died.
No, was murdered.
Just the thought of her not being here to see me get married, to meet Arturo, made my heart ache with so much sadness it felt like it would break me.
‘I wish I could do that,’ I whispered as I cracked a few eggs into a frying pan.
The sound of the eggs sizzling and popping as they cooked helped distract me from the conversation I wished to God we weren’t having right now.
Lukyan seemed to sense I needed a distraction, so he changed the subject.
‘Where’s your fiancé?’ he sneered, making a face.
I chuckled and flipped the eggs. ‘What’s your deal with him? Why do you hate him so much? I don’t get it, what’d he do to you?’
He shrugged his shoulders and grumbled, ‘I don’t hate him. Just don’t like his face.’
I laughed out loud, transferring the eggs to a plate and putting on a few more. ‘It’s because he’s prettier than you, isn’t it?’
With his long, dark hair, his deep brown eyes, high cheekbones and chiselled jaw, Lukyan’s always been known as ‘The Pretty Boy’ of the family. My guess? He doesn’t like having someone steal his thunder.
Fuck, he can be so childish sometimes. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Being the youngest boy, mum used to spoil him rotten when he was a kid.
‘No,’ he snapped, ‘and I’m not pretty, I’m handsome. Men don’t like being called pretty,’ he scoffed.
‘Uh-huh,’ I chuckled.
I put the remaining eggs on the plate and started cooking some bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. The smells enveloped me, making my stomach rumble and my mouth water.
‘Since when do you make breakfast? Usually you get the maids to do it.’
True, I hardly ever cooked my own food anymore. Why do it when you had people to do it for you? That’s my opinion anyway. But this time, I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to be the one to cook Arturo’s breakfast.
‘Since now.’
Lukyan got to his feet and took a seat back in his chair just as Christian and Luca walked into the kitchen. My new bodyguards. Part of me was still a little ticked off about having them, but my father insisted it was a good idea, and I’ve never once known him to be wrong.
They were gorgeous men, both with dark hair and blue eyes. They stood at about 6’4, with broad shoulders and a muscular build. The fact that they were identical twins was pretty cool.
I transferred the bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes to a plate as Christian and Luca made their way over to me. They both bowed slightly.
‘Ma’am,’ one of them said, and I had to repress my wince.
I knew he was only being polite but I hated being called ‘Ma’am’. It made me feel old.
The other twin, the one that didn’t speak, tried to subtly kick the other in the shin, but it couldn’t have been anymore obvious.
‘I mean, Miss Volkov,’ the first twin corrected, and I chuckled.
‘Good morning, Christian, Luca. Would you like some breakfast?’ I moved around the kitchen, putting a few slices of bread into the toaster.
They gave me a look of surprise, their mouths dropping open slightly.
‘Yes, thank you, Ma’am-Miss Volkov,’ the first twin quickly corrected.
I pointed to the kitchen table and both men moved to take a seat next to Lukyan.
‘I’d like some breakfast,’ Lukyan said, raising his hand like he was in bloody kindergarten or something.
I arched an eyebrow. ‘And when was the last time you made me breakfast?’
Fucking never.
He lowered his hand and scowled.
That’s what I thought.
I removed the bread from the toaster and put two on each plate, as well as the eggs, bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. I moved to the table and put a plate in front of each twin.
‘Thank you,’ they both said at the exact same time. I wonder if that was something that just happened, or if it was intentional.
I nodded and pointed to the twin on the left. ‘Which one are you?’
They both laughed.
‘I’m Luca,’ he said, pointing at his chest.
I removed one of the sparkly red bracelets from around my wrist and put it on him. He raised his arm into the air and stared at it with disgust. His blue eyes shot to me and he raised his brows in question.
‘So I can tell you two apart,’ I elaborated.
Luca grumbled something under his breath, not happy with his new accessory.
‘Dude, that’s totally gonna salt your game,’ Christian laughed while he shovelled food into his mouth.
Luca narrowed his eyes and flung some eggs at his twin brother. ‘Shut up,’ he growled.
‘If you guys weren’t wearing the exact same outfit, and didn’t have the same damn hairstyle, I would be able to tell the two of you apart.’
Christian and Luca both looked down at their clothes. Dressed in black slacks, a black shirt and black boots, it was like they didn’t want people to be able to tell them apart. They both looked at each other and shrugged.
‘I can tell them apart,’ Lukyan smirked, leaning back in his chair and running his eyes over the twins.
I moved back to the kitchen and started making Arturo’s breakfast again, which was the entire damn reason I came down here in the first place.
‘You can not,’ I chided.
‘Can too.’
I turned around and pointed my spatula at him. ‘You so can not. They look exactly the fucking same!’
Christian and Luca continued to eat like this was an everyday occurrence for them. It probably was. They looked between Lukyan and I, listening with amusement.
‘Wanna bet?’ Lukyan winked.
Oh, this fucker. He knows I never back down from a bet. It’s in my Russian blood.
‘Stakes?’ I asked, flipping the eggs.
‘I want your Wather Q5,’ he said, his lips curving into an evil smile.
I groaned. Of course he fucking did. He’d been eyeing that gun ever since I got it as a gift from my godfather. The semi-automatic was quickly becoming one of my favourite pieces. It looked a bit other-worldly, like something out of a futurist Sci-Fi movie with its machined frame. It had a Quick Defence Trigger and weighed around two kilograms. The Q5 recoiled fast, allowing the user to shoot with blazing speed and precision. Truth be told, I didn’t want to bet it, just in case he could actually tell them apart. But I couldn’t help it, I loved betting.
I piled all the food onto a plate and placed it on the kitchen counter.
‘Fine. But if you can’t tell them apart, you have to apologise to Arturo for being a dick. And you have to be nice to him from now on.’
Lukyan scowled at me. ‘No. Pick something else.’
‘Nope. You want my Q5, I want you two to get along. Take it or leave it.’
Lukyan growled, his face scrunching up in displeasure. He looked at the twins, sizing up his odds at being able to tell the two identical men apart. After a few seconds, he nodded. ‘Deal.’
I smiled and moved to stand next to the twins. Despite the fact their mouths were overflowing with food, they continued trying to shovel more into their mouths, like they were afraid I was going to take it away from them.
I twirled my finger in the air, signalling for Lukyan to turn around. After giving us his back, I motioned for the twins to stand. Luca did immediately, his fork clinking on his plate as he rose to his feet. Christian took a little longer, making sure to shove another forkful of food into his mouth first before standing.
‘Does Arturo not feed you two or something?’ I chuckled.
Christian looked at me, his eyes lit with amusement, but it was Luca who spoke.
‘He does, but his cooking sucks compared to yours.’
I started shuffling the twins around, like a magician does a deck of cards. I made sure to keep an eye on Lukyan as I moved. He was a notorious cheater when it came to any games we played, and I wouldn’t put it past him to do something sly. One time when we were playing monopoly, I made the mistake of letting him be banker. Every time I would look away, he would grab cash from the bank and add it to his pile. We were halfway through the game before I realised something was off, and he had way more cash than he should have.
Once I was satisfied, I took my sparkly bracelet off Luca and stepped back.
‘Okay, you can turn around now.’
Lukyan turned on his heels, quick as a cat. He narrowed his eyes first before taking a step forward. The twins stood tall under his scrutiny, hands clasped behind their backs, faces impassive. He slowly circled them, his eyes running up and down their bodies. He stepped toward Christian and sniffed him.
‘What are you doing?’ I groaned.
‘Shhh. I’m concentrating.’ He moved to Luca and sniffed him as well. He grabbed his arm and lifted it, moving it around in the air before going back to Christian and repeating the movement.
‘Seriously Lukyan, what the fuck are you doing? You can’t tell them apart by sniffing them and moving them around.’
‘You don’t know my process,’ he said without taking his eyes off the twins.
I slapped a palm to my forehead in exasperation. ‘You’re infuriating.”
‘No, you are.’
‘What are you, five?’ I snapped.
His eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘No, you are.’
I growled. ‘Don’t Lukyan. Don’t you dare. We’re too old for this shit.’
Growing up, Lukyan and I always loved to piss each other off, usually by deliberately doing things we knew the other detested. He hated whenever I mimicked him, touched his PlayStation or went into his bedroom. I hated whenever he ate my food, stole my guns or just said ‘No, you are’ back to everything I would bloody say. Even if it didn’t make any fucking sense, he said it. I hated it all when I was a kid, and I fucking hated it now.
Lukyan smiled. ‘No, you—’
That’s as far as he got. I pounced, shoving the plates on the table to the ground and leaped over the kitchen table. I jumped into the air, trying to wrap my legs around his neck and bring him to the ground. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what I was going to do. One of the many disadvantages of fighting someone familiar with your moves.
With a smirk on his face, he gripped my legs in mid-air and spun, using the momentum of his body to bring me down to the ground hard. He tried to climb on top of me, but I was quick and pissed off.
Before he could get a stable position, I struck out, delivering a solid blow to his solar plexus. He groaned, his hands moving to grip at his chest as pain radiated through his torso. I pushed at his chest, knocking him to the ground, and I quickly scrambled for the dominant position.
‘You’re such a little shit, Lukyan,’ I grunted as I tried to land a few shots to his abdomen, but he managed to block each one with ease.
‘No. . . you . . . are,’ he smirked, poking his tongue out.
Arghhhh! He was purposely antagonising me, and it was working. I would love to say I had more restraint than this, but truth be told, I didn’t. I had an extremely short temper and not a lot of reasoning skills. Hence why I’m currently trying to beat the shit out of my brother for simply saying something annoying. Maybe I really was crazy. Oh well.
I pulled my arm back, preparing for a punch right to his stupid, smug face when an arm of steel wrapped around my waist and pulled me to my feet. I lashed out, shouting profanities and trying to kick free, enraged someone was meddling until I got a whiff of Arturo’s intoxicating scent. I felt myself relax instantly at the feel of his warmth against my body, but the anger was definitely still there.
‘Be calm, kotenok,‘ his deep, seductive voice whispered in my ear.
Lukyan raised his head from his position on the floor, the rest of his body staying firmly on the ground and gave me a sly smile. ‘That’s Luca,’ he said, pointing to one of the twins.
They had both moved off to the side at the start of our little squabble, mixing up the positions they were originally in. I had no idea if Lukyan was right or not but based on the look the twins gave me, he fucking was.
I growled and tried to get to Lukyan again, but Arturo had a solid grip on me.
‘Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?’ Arturo snapped, looking around the room. I hadn’t even noticed Aleksandr and Nikolai had joined our little party until right this moment. They stood in the corner, both munching on a packet of potato chips and watching on with amusement.
‘They made a bet. Lukyan said he could tell us apart, Miss Volkov said he couldn’t,’ Christian replied.
‘What were the stakes?’
‘If Miss Volkov won, Lukyan had to apologise and be nice to you.’
Arturo scoffed. ‘And if she lost?’
‘I got her new favourite gun,’ Lukyan rose gracefully to his feet, wiping down the front of his clothes and smiled.
I heard Aleksandr and Nikolai start talking amongst themselves in Russian, but I was too far gone to really pay attention.
‘You swindled me!’ I growled. ‘You knew which one was which.’
‘I told you I could tell them apart. Not my fault you didn’t believe me,’ he shrugged.
I tried to move towards him again, stretching my arms out to wrap my hands around his throat but Arturo was like a rock, not budging the slightest.
‘How?’ Arturo questioned.
‘How what?’ Lukyan snapped.
‘How did you tell them apart? I’ve had people working with me for years, people who have known them for years, who couldn’t tell. So, how is it that someone who has literally just met them is able to tell who is whom?’
Lukyan shrugged and moved to Luca’s side. He gripped his forearm and slowly lifted it into the air. He pointed to a small, thin scar on the inside of his wrist.
‘Noticed Luca had this scar on his wrist last night, my guess from a knife fight.” He moved to Christian. “Christian wears the same cologne as I do and Luca wears something downright dreadful,’ he scrunched up his nose. ‘No offence, bro,’ he said, winking at Luca.
‘That’s why you were sniffing them,’ I said, putting the pieces together from his crazy behaviour.
Arturo slowly loosened his grip on me but stayed close. ‘Hmmm,’ was all he said as he stared at Lukyan.
‘Impressive, huh?’ Lukyan grinned.
Great. Just what he needed. An ego booster.
My father stepped into the kitchen a moment later, looked at the broken dishes and food all over the kitchen floor, and shook his head. ‘Someone better clean that shit up,” he grunted.
“Not it!” Lukyan yelled, running out of the room.
I glanced at the mess on the floor and winced. I totally ruined Christian and Luca’s breakfast. “Sorry guys,” I said, looking at the twins.
They both smiled and said at the same time, “No sweat.”
“I’ll clean it up, Miss Volkov,” Flora said, stepping into the kitchen and grabbing her cleaning supplies.
“No, no, it’s okay. It’s my mess, I’ll clean it.”
Everybody began clearing out of the room as I started cleaning up the broken dishes and food from the floor. Everyone except Arturo. He leaned his elbows against the kitchen counter, watching me intently. I pointed to the plate of food next to him. “That’s for you.”
He glanced at the plate and raised his brows. “You made me breakfast?”
“Yep,” I said, popping the ‘p’. I scraped all the broken glass and food into the dustpan and placed it in the bin. Grabbing a bottle of multi-purpose spray and a cloth, I wiped the floor down, cleaning up every bit of leftover food and dirt.
“Thank you.” He picked up the plate and moved to the table, taking a seat.
I was slightly nervous. I wasn’t the best cook in the world. I could do the basics, that’s about it. Hopefully it would be good enough for him.
“How’d last night go? Did the guy talk?” I asked, washing my hands and making my way over to the table. I took a seat opposite him.
“Oh, he talked alright,” Arturo said, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. “Your father can be quite motivating if the situation calls for it.”
I laughed. “Did he pull the whole ‘I’m the Bratva Butcher’ bit?”
Arturo smirked. “Does that a lot, huh?”
“Oh yeah. It’s his go to interrogation technique. Most people have heard of the Bratva Butcher, so it seems to work.”
“It definitely works. Miguel squealed like a pig and told us everything he knew. Nero was the one who told them to kidnap you. He wanted leverage against your father.”
I frowned. “Leverage? For what?”
“Nero wants him to butt out of our feud. He figured the best way to get your father under his thumb was to take his only daughter.”
Smart. Would have totally worked if he succeeded, too. Nothing was more important to my father than family, his children.
“One thing I just can’t figure out is why the Los Zetas are doing Nero’s dirty work,” Arturo said, frowning.
“Miguel didn’t say?”
“Claimed he didn’t know. Not sure if I believe him though.” He took another bite of his food, his brows lowered in thought.
“Maybe they’ve got an alliance, like we do?” I suggested.
Arturo shook his head. “Would your father and his men run off to do our bidding if we ordered it?”
I scoffed.
“Exactly. This was different. The Los Zetas are a brutal Mexican Cartel, it makes no sense that they would run around and do whatever Nero told them too.”
“Unless Nero has leverage over them too? Like he tried to get with my father?”
Arturo stopped eating and sat up straight. “That must be it. Nero’s got something over the Zetas. He has to.”
“What do you think it could be?”
“I don’t know, it could be anything.”
“We should try and find out what he’s got and where he has it stashed. If we can take his leverage away, he loses control of the Los Zetas.”
Something flashed across his face, an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “Good idea.”
It was silent for a few moments, just the sound of cutlery hitting the plate as Arturo ate his breakfast until I spoke.
“Tell me about your first kill,” I blurted out of nowhere. I was curious about him, about his life and what he’d experienced. There was still so much I didn’t know about him, and I wanted to know everything there was to know.
He chuckled. “Nothing really to tell. It wasn’t really a fair fight. I was nine, I’d been shadowing Alessandro for years, learning the ins and outs of the Cosa Nostra. As his successor, it was important for me to get familiar with death and violence at an early age. Being in this life, with a near constant stream of danger around every corner, there wasn’t any room for weakness. One day, he took me down to the dungeon and sitting in a chair bolted to the floor was a scrawny little guy. Early twenties, with track marks all over his arm. He jumped one of our dealers and took off with the whole stash, over $10,000 worth of drugs. Alessandro tracked him down and originally planned to make an example out of him, until he decided it was the perfect opportunity for me to get my first kill out of the way. Looking back, I always thought it was kind of cheating. The dude was strapped to a chair and couldn’t fight back, so like I said, it wasn’t really fair. I stabbed him in the throat and then threw up afterwards.” He shook his head, chuckling slightly. “Alessandro was not happy about that. Anytime we had someone down there, he got me to kill them until I could do it without throwing up. Took a few tries, but eventually I got there.” He looked at me. “How about you?”
“I was seven,” I began, staring off into space. “A group of thieves had broken in. They saw the guards at the front gate, the big, beautiful mansion and figured it was a good score. They weren’t your garden variety thieves; they were the real deal. Smart, professional, well prepared. They managed to get over the fence and into the house without anyone noticing. It was a real testament to their skills, considering the grounds were patrolled twenty-four hours a day. One of the men was a closet paedophile.”
Arturo stiffened, his fork frozen in the air. I kept going.
“He crept into my room and when he saw me, jumped into my bed. I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth and pressed his body on top of me. I remember how heavy he felt, the stench of alcohol and smoke on his breath. I thought I’d vomit. When he reached down to take my clothes off, something snapped in me. I had been practicing with knives for years and always kept one under my pillow. It was my favourite one, and Lukyan liked to steal my things so I thought by keeping it under my pillow, he could never steal it. I grabbed it and stabbed him in the throat. His blood poured over me like a waterfall, drenching my clothes, and when his hand left my mouth I screamed as loud as I could. My father and brothers came in and hell broke loose after that.”
Arturo’s eyes were soft. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he whispered, leaning forward to run his fingers over the top of my hand.
I shrugged. It was traumatic, for sure. I had nightmares afterwards. I was terrified someone was going to sneak into my room again and I used to cry myself to sleep until Aleksandr came and slept on my bedroom floor. He promised to watch over me during the night and not let anyone hurt me. For months, he slept on a crappy air mattress at the foot of my bed until I was better. But I would never tell Arturo that.
“How’s the food?” I asked, looking at his near empty plate.
“Good, thank you,” he said, pulling his hand back. He took a few more bites, finishing it off. He pushed the empty plate forward and leaned back in his chair. He studied me for a moment. “You didn’t tell me your father was the Bratva Butcher.”
I shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”
“Hmmm.” Was all he replied with.
I picked his plate up and took it to the sink, washing it and putting it in the dish rack.
I gasped in surprise when Arturo’s hands gripped the kitchen bench in front of me, his arms boxing me in. I didn’t even hear him move. One second, he was at the table, the next he was standing behind me, his chest pushing into my back as he crowded me, invading my space. His scent surrounded me, and I wanted to bathe in it. He smelled so fucking good.
“Is there anything else you need to tell me?” he whispered into my ear, making me shiver.
“Not that I know of,” I breathed, pushing my ass into his cock. I couldn’t help it. Whenever I was around him I just wanted to touch him, to feel him. His body was all hard, toned muscles. The body of a man who worked hard, fought harder and lived a rough, dangerous life.
He flexed his hips and pushed me forward, pinning me into the kitchen bench with his body. “You sure kotenok? No more surprises?”
“Oh, I’ve got plenty of surprises. You’ll just have to wait to find those out though. I’m not spoiling the fun.”
He kissed the side of my neck softly, just a light touch of his lips against my skin and it gave me goosebumps. And then he bit down, hard.
I moaned and reached back, wrapping my hand around his nape and holding him to my neck, wanting, needing more.
He sucked my skin into his mouth and let it go with a pop. “I can’t wait to find out then,” he murmured.
His phone started ringing. He gave me one more quick kiss and then stepped back, pulling his phone out of his pocket and answering it.
“What?” he barked.
I turned around and propped my ass against the kitchen bench, running my hands over his chest. His muscles strained against the fabric of his shirt and I loved the feel of all that hard, powerful muscle beneath my fingertips. The firmness and sculpted definition of his body made me so wet I soaked through my fucking underwear.
Arturo stiffened. “What the fuck do you mean you haven’t found him yet, Vin?” he snapped into the phone. Tension rolled off him, his anger increasing as he listened intently. “I don’t give a fuck what you have to do, find him! I’ll be back soon and I want him in the dungeon next to Marco by the time I get back.”
He hung up and exhaled heavily.
“Something wrong?” I asked, my tone light.
“Just business. Nothing to concern yourself with.”
I frowned. “Maybe I can help?”
“You can’t. I have to go.”
He turned and began walking away. He was dismissing me.
Oh, hell fucking no.
My anger spiked. I picked up a butcher knife from the dishrack and flung it towards him, making sure to aim wide so it didn’t actually hit him, and it embedded deeply into the wall in front of him.
He stopped dead in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder, a dark look in his eyes.
“Don’t walk away from me when we’re in the middle of a conversation,” I hissed. “And don’t think for one fucking second that you can put me on the sidelines. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been involved in my father’s business. I’m not new to this life. As your future wife, I expect you to include me in your shit.”
Narrowing his eyes, he marched over to me. I didn’t move, didn’t back down as he got right up in my space so we were nose to nose. His presence smothered the air around me with menace, making it hard for me to breathe. He watched me for a moment, his stunning blue-green eyes trailing over my face. “Alright,” he said.
“Alright?” I repeated, eyeing him suspiciously.
He nodded slightly. “Alright, I’ll include you, but kotenok, the next time you throw a knife at me, I’m going to tie you to the bed and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, until you’re begging me to stop.”
My breath hitched. “Is that supposed to be a punishment? Because it doesn’t sound like it.”
“You say that now, but after you’ve been denied your orgasm time and time again, you’ll think differently.” He backed away and I felt like I could finally breathe again. He pulled the knife from the wall and placed it on the kitchen counter. “Someone stole from me.”
“Stole from you? How much?” I asked, watching him carefully. There was tension in his body, his face hard and eyes dark. He was beyond angry. He was furious.
“Over $50,000.”
I gasped. “Shit. Do you have any idea who?”
“There’s two men responsible for handling the cash at our drop houses. Marco and Diego. Marco’s too much of a pussy to go against the family, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t somehow involved. He could have easily given the right information to someone else, and they took the cash.”
“And the other guy? Diego?”
His lips thinned. “He’s missing. I’ve sent Vin to find him, but so far he’s having no luck.”
I nodded. “You need to go back. Sort it out and find who took your money. Something like this is bad for organisations like ours. If word gets out, people will think it’s okay to steal from you. To cross you.”
“I know.” He ran the back of his fingers across my cheek. “I wanted to stay a bit longer, get to know you a bit more.”
When his fingers got near my mouth, I nipped them lightly. “We’ve got plenty of time for that.”