Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)(36)

“Had a good morning, boss?” she asks. “Or was it a really good night?”

She tries to peek into the room, but I pull the door closed.

Willow is still sleeping. She tossed and turned for hours before she finally settled down in the early pre-dawn. I’m certain I’m partially to blame.

Ariel sighs, disappointed. “So protective. It’s cute.”

“You’re talking a lot,” I snap. “But you’re not really saying anything.”

“Right down to business, huh? I don’t even get a good morning?”

She’s managed to get a hold of herself since last night. She needed to get some things off her chest, and I needed to remind her of who she really is.

But that can’t last forever. She has a job to do. And being Brit and Ariel at the same time just takes too much out of her.

She can only choose one.

When I snap my fingers at her, she sighs and gives her report. “Anya’s getting closer to finding our location,” she explains. “Some of her men almost caught sight of me when I was heading into the village this morning.”

“Why were you in the village to begin with?” I demand.

“Because I had to make a call,” she says. “Belov may be in Russia, but he still keeps tabs on me.”

That annoys me, but I have no choice but to let it go. “You spoke to him?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“I meant before the fucking call, Ariel,” I snap. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I didn’t really think about it.”

“Jesus. What’s the point of you being my spy?”

“I’ll tell you everything he told me,” she says. “He’s cutting his trip short by two days, which means I’ll have to leave a little earlier than planned.”

Now, I understand why her alter ego is back. She’s preparing herself, getting back into character for the asshole whose days are numbered.

“Okay. What else?”

“He got the mercenaries he wanted.”

I shake my head. “He actually went through with it. Crazy son of a bitch.”

“There was never any doubt.”

“How many?” I ask.

“A thousand.”

“Seriously?”

She shrugs. “He likes to be prepared.”

“A thousand men,” I repeat. “Do you have company names?”

“Nope. He wasn’t interested in giving me details.”

“Does he ever?”

“Sometimes,” she says, a little defensively. “He trusts me.”

I give her a pointed look. “You’re too smart to believe that, Ariel.”

“I’ve been at his side for six years.”

“And he still checks up on you,” I remind her.

A flicker of doubt crosses her face, but she lifts her chin. “You may know Belov. But I know Spartak, okay?”

“Just be careful.”

“I always am.”

I nod. “How big was the contingent of Anya’s men that you saw earlier?”

“Just one jeep. Five men, tops.”

That’s good news. “So she’s still just feeling the territory out.”

“Yeah, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“I’m not waiting on her to make my move.”

Ariel raises her eyebrows. “You’re not?”

“I want my son back,” I say harshly. “Go inform Jax and Gaiman of everything you just told me.”

“No need. Jax was with me this morning. I’m sure he’s already filled Gaiman in.”

“Since when do you and Jax hang out?” I ask, unsure about how I feel about that.

She smiles. “A girl’s gotta keep herself entertained. And Jax is nothing if not entertaining. Especially since your head has been turned by the wannabe Bratva princess.”

“Careful what you say.”

She raises her hands in defeat and backs off. “I’ll leave you to it.”

I head back into the room and walk over to the couch where Willow is sleeping. She’s still wrapped in the throes of her dreams, one arm thrown over her head, the other tucked under her chin. She looks peaceful.

I ought to let her stay that way. Reality can be cruel; hers in particular. Dreams can be an oasis for the haunted and the damned.

Unfortunately for Willow, I’ve never been one for running from your reality.

I head into the bathroom and fill a glass up with cold water. Then I walk right back to the sofa and dump it over her head.

She wakes with a gasp. “What the fuck?!”

“Morning,” I say pleasantly. “Have a good sleep?”

“You bastard!” she hisses as she wipes the water from her eyes.

I sit down on the arm of the sofa. “It’s time you start pulling your weight around here.”

She narrows her eyes. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

“I’m going to make contact with Anya.”

She goes still for a moment, her muscles tensing. “Why?”

I don’t bother answering. She knows why.