Champagne Venom (Orlov Bratva, #1)(19)

Unfortunately, he does neither.

“Just take a deep breath, Ms. Masters,” he advises. “And remember that what you heard and witnessed today is strictly confidential. But considering you read that NDA back to front, I’m sure you don’t need reminding.”

“Who would I tell?” I ask bitterly.

“Rowan De Silva, for one,” he says without hesitation.

My chin jerks towards him. “What are you—Why would I tell her?”

“I’m aware that the two of you have grown close in the last week. You spend your lunch and coffee breaks together, don’t you?”

I stare at him for a moment. Then I swallow my indignation and try to act nonchalant. “Should I be flattered or creeped out that you’ve decided to keep a close eye on me?”

“I keep a close eye on all the people that surround me.”

“It sounds like you have a lot of enemies, Mr. Orlov.”

“It’s the price of success. And as high as it might seem, it beats having no roof over your head and no savings to fall back on.”

Don’t slap him, Paige, I tell myself. It will be very, very bad if you slap him. But it's extremely tempting to do it anyway.

“I need to know who I’m working for,” I say instead. “You just brought, like, thirty armed men into that room.”

“Thirty-two,” he corrects casually. “Including myself.”

I blow out a breath. “Okay. Fine. Just tell me the truth: are you some mafia boss or something?”

He turns his unblinking gaze on me, his dark eyes shifting over my face like he’s scanning for weakness. I’m sure he finds plenty of it. Still, his lips purse before he answers.

“Or something,” he says at last.

Then my world explodes.





13

MISHA

Paige screams as a car slams into our passenger side, sending us spinning across two lanes of traffic.

Glass shatters. Metal squeals and rips apart.

She has her seatbelt on, but I still throw out an arm to steady her. When the car mounts the median, she teeters out of my reach and her head smashes against the window.

I roar her name and lunge across the vehicle. I unbuckle her the moment the car is still. Her arm is limp when I grab it and slide her across the seat towards me.

She moans with the movement, her head like a bag of loose change on her shoulders. She looks up at me with unfocused eyes, blinking chaotically in an effort to make sense of what she’s seeing.

“M-Misha…” she mumbles.

“Don’t move,” I order. “I’ve got you.”

Tires screech outside as the caravan comes to a halt. If it weren’t for her, I’d be out there in the commotion by now. I’d be pinpointing the fucker who dared to crash into us.

I should have seen it coming. Any other day, I would have.

Today, I was distracted.

Petyr likes to get the last word in, and the meeting didn’t end the way he had planned. But still, I didn’t expect something as desperate as a hit-and-run.

Fucking asshole.

I hear Konstantin’s voice above all the others. “Where’s the don?”

A second later, my door is thrown open and Konstantin is silhouetted in the daylight. “Fucking hell! I figured you were unconscious in here.”

“Paige needs medical attention immediately.”

I hoist myself out of the ruined Rolls, cradling Paige in my arms. Konstantin reaches for her. “Here, let me take her.”

“Back the fuck up.”

Konstantin actually takes a step back, eyebrows flying up his forehead. I curse myself internally.

“She’s fragile,” I add with a grimace. “I don’t want to risk moving her unnecessarily.”

The lie comes easily, but Konstantin’s expression turns suspicious regardless. “My car is over there.

We have a minute before the cops get here. Maybe less.”

“Who hit us?” I demand. “How the hell did he even get close enough to crash into us?”

“There was about a two-second window while the lead cars changed as we crossed the intersection.

He ran a red light and everything. It was timed perfectly.”

I look up and down the road. “So it’s definitely Petyr.”

Konstantin nods. “Without a fucking doubt.”

My men are scrambling like ants to figure out who will follow me and Paige, who will stay, who will go on back to the office. I’d usually be in the thick of things, barking orders, but Paige is limp in my arms, so I don’t really give a damn about who goes where. My men will figure it out.

I have more important things to tend to.

A crowd of gawkers has already gathered. I ignore the Good Samaritans offering help and get into the backseat of Konstantin’s jeep. Paige’s head is resting against my chest, warm and heavy and fragrant.

Her eyes are closed now, but I can feel her pulse strong and steady against my arm. The space between breaths makes my heart seize up every time.

“I’m surprised you brought the girl to the meeting.” Konstantin drives over a curb to get around the line of cars in front of him. I hold tight to Paige so she doesn’t jostle more than necessary.

He doesn’t know it, but he’s pressing salt into the wound. Why the fuck did I include her in this? I could just as easily have left her at Orion. But I wanted her to know exactly what she was involved in now.