Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)(17)

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I bite back at him. “How can you accuse her of something that you yourself are guilty of?”

“Because I would never use my child as a weapon.”

His words lance through me like blades. I fight to hide my reaction. “You used me.”

“You’re not my child. You’re not my blood.”

“And you hold her to higher standards?” I ask. “Why should that matter? She didn’t raise me. She doesn’t know me, either.”

I regret it the moment I say it. This is why talking to him is never a smart choice. My mouth runs ahead of my caution.

“Life with your mother hasn’t been as smooth sailing as you’d have me believe, then?”

I bite my tongue and curse myself for being so easily manipulated. “It’s been educational. I needed it.”

“Is that right?”

He doesn’t believe me, but I’m telling the truth. Anya did teach me a lot. Without her, I’d already be dead.

“Are you going to answer any of my questions?” I ask.

“I might,” he says. “But it’ll have to wait until dinner.”

He eyes the dresses on the bed, and I shake my head. “If you think I’m dressing up for you, you’re delusional.”

“Do you have something against nice clothes?”

I take a step towards him, summoning up all my strength, all my resolve. “I’m not your doll. I’d rather walk around naked than dress up in anything you choose.”

He raises a brow. “If you insist.”

I blanche. “I…”

“See?” he laughs. “Stop fighting me, Willow. You can’t win.”

He heads for the door, but stops at the threshold and looks back over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner. Eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”

Eleven fucking months of training, and standing in front of Leo makes me feel like I’m back at day one.

But I can’t give up.

Leo wants me to earn the name Viktoria Mikhailov?

Fine. Challenge accepted.





7





LEO





I follow the smell of cigars to where Jax and Gaiman are sitting on the porch.

“Want one?” Jax offers.

“I’m good.”

“Nervous about tonight?” Jax asks.

I glare at him. “It’s just business.”

He smirks. “Wish I had business like that. Lucky bastard.”

He’s ignoring his cigar now, drumming his fingers on his legs. Gaiman won’t even look at me, but he sighs.

“What’s the bet?” I ask.

Jax practically leaps out of his seat. “How the fuck did you know?”

“I know everything, sobrat.”

“Jesus,” Jax groans. “You take the fucking fun out of life.”

“Hurry up and tell me what’s at stake.”

“Gaiman thinks you’ve already fucked her,” he says. “I say no.”

I raise a brow. “So little faith in me, Jax?”

“Have you seen her now? She’s a fucking spitfire. Even you might have trouble landing that. I mean…” He whistles long and low. “She was always hot, but now she’s hot in the same way her mother is.”

“You let your dick do too much of the thinking.” Gaiman rolls his eyes.

“Sue me for noticing a woman’s beauty.” Jax turns back to me. “Although Willow looks like she’s more likely to bite your dick off now than suck it.”

I shrug. “What’s fun without a little risk?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Jax looks at me eagerly. “So? Which of us won the bet?”

I glance towards Gaiman casually. “Him.”

“Are you shitting me?!” Jax yells.

“You’re right about one thing,” I concede. “She’s a spitfire. But it only makes the sex hotter.”

“Lucky bastard,” Jax mutters again. “Lucky goddamn bastard.”

I smirk and then shift into business mode. “Any movement?”

“Anya’s men are out looking for Willow,” Gaiman tells me. “But we have men arranged at a ten-mile radius from our location. If anyone tries to get up this mountain, we’ll know about it.”

“And what news of Belov?”

“I kinda thought you’d have better information on that front,” Gaiman says. “Any word from Agent Thirty-One?”

“She’s been quiet for a while now,” I admit.

“Should we be worried?”

“No. She’s gone quiet like this before. It’s just an abundance of caution. She can’t afford to be caught.”

Jax and Gaiman exchange a glance. It makes me wonder what bet they have hanging over her life. I decide not to ask.

“So far, our scouts have been reporting activity around two major spots in the city,” Gaiman continues. “I think Spartak’s trying to rebuild what he lost in the Manhattan Club and The Silver Star.”

I snort. “He was a fool to think that loyalty could be rebuilt so easily. He sustained heavy casualties that day.”