Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)(31)

I glare at her. “If?”

“You know what I mean,” she says with a wave of the hand. “I never speak in absolutes anymore.”

“That’s because you’ve spent too long with Belov,” I snap. “I’m different.”

“I can see that,” she says appreciatively, her eyes running down my body.

I glare at her, trying to figure out why she’s embarrassing herself.

“Jax. Gaiman,” I say gruffly. “Get out.”

Jax gives me a wink before he leaves the room. “We’ll make sure the wife doesn’t hear anything she’s not meant to.”

I head for the door, push the dumbass out, and slam it right on his smirking face. Then I turn to the blonde siren who’s got her innocent smile back in place.

“What?” she protests mischievously. “A girl can’t have a little fun?”

“I’m serious: what the fuck are you playing at?”

“You seem really tense, Leo,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m just trying to loosen you up a little.”

“And piss Willow off in the process?”

“That’s just a delightful bonus.”

“What is it with you two?” I ask. “I get what you were trying to do. You had a part to play and Belov was watching. But I know you, Brit. A tiny part of you was enjoying hurting her.”

She looks off to the side, and I can see her struggling for control. She’s become a master at concealing her true feelings. But that’s easier to do when no one knows who you really are.

I know, though.

I know everything.

“You’re reading too much into it,” she says finally.

I put myself in her line of sight, forcing her to look at me. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Okay, so maybe I’m jealous,” she snaps. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Well, there you go. Sadistic bastard.”

“You’re jealous of Willow?”

She purses her lips and looks away. I take the moment to study her.

Her beauty has changed over the years. The softness that I used to admire is all gone. It’s been washed away by blood and tears. I used to think she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.

But that was before.

Before grief cleaved her into two separate people.

“You realize the only reason you get away with that shit is because of our shared past, right?”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning, if any other person had touched Willow the way you did, I would have killed them myself.”

She raises her eyebrows and stares at me for a long while, trying to gauge how serious I am. “Fuck. You mean it.”

“Of course I mean it.”

“I’m afraid you’re just making me more jealous.”

“I get it, Brit. You’re bitter and angry. Join the fucking club. But when it comes to Willow, there’s a line. Even someone as broken as you can understand that.”

I can see the twitch in her jaw. I can see the losses she’s suffered over the years. Not just her happily ever after, but the person she used to be along with it.

“I got it, boss,” she says, sharp and professional.

She’s affected. It’s obvious in the way she straightens her spine and lifts her chin. I hate going don on her. But there are some things I can’t let slide.

“I wonder if you do.”

She glances over at me. “You may not realize this, but I do understand.”

“I know.”

She nods. “He was the same way with me. Fiercely protective. Possessive, sometimes. But I loved it. I was happy to belong to him.”

“You didn’t just belong to him,” I correct. “You belonged with him. You were his partner.”

Her mask drops for a moment. And in that moment, I see the loss. All these years later and it’s still there just as fresh as the day it happened.

“I couldn’t have done this without you, you know?” I say.

She smirks, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s losing her touch. “That’s very charitable of you, but we both know it’s bullshit. You’ve always been determined, and you always have a bulletproof plan.”

“You know as well as I do that plans don’t always pan out. There are too many moving targets. Too many changing circumstances.”

“All true,” she says. “But if anyone can do it, you can. If I hadn’t been in the picture, you would have found another way in.”

She’s right. I would have. But I don’t think it’d be helpful to agree to that now. Things feel fragile.

“I’m glad you were in the picture,” I say instead.

She doesn’t say anything, but her fingers start to tremble.

I move forward. “Ariel.”

She snaps her gaze to me. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, her face twisted into anger. “Don’t. That is not my name. Not anymore.”

I ignore her and walk forward. “Brit is who you are with him. Brit is a persona, a character we invented to get close to Belov. She is not who you are.”

“Isn’t she?” Ariel asks. “Because I’ve done horrible things, Leo. I’ve killed men and tortured women. I’ve hurt so many, many people.”