Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)(53)

She runs a hand down her cheek and over her elegant throat. “Don’t get me wrong: I’m ready for death, Willow,” she says softly. “I’ve been ready for death since I lost Pavel. But I don’t want to deal with any more pain than I already have. Every time that monster touches me, I suffer enough.”

I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at Ariel and forget Brit, but right now, I can at least see why Leo respects her so much. There is strength in there. Fire. Admirable fire.

“Have you thought about what happens after?” I ask.

“After?”

“After you get what you want? After you get your revenge?”

She looks towards the windows. “I have no fucking clue. I’ve been in this so long that sometimes, it feels like it’ll never end.”

“It’ll end. Everything does.”

The way we’re talking, I expect there to be tears in her eyes when she turns to me. But her blue eyes are bright. Her face is smooth, unbothered. She’s perfected the mask Anya tried and failed to teach me to wear.

“How did you get to be this way?” I ask in awe.

She raises her eyebrows. “Evil?”

“No,” I say. “Strong.”

She laughs. She clearly wasn’t expecting that. “I’m a good actress, I guess. Turns out that when your soul is broken, you can become anyone you want to be.”

We sit like that for a long time. We don’t talk, but it doesn’t really matter. The silence between us is no longer uncomfortable. It’s no longer bristling with tension and distrust.

After a long while, I smile and shake my head. “I can’t believe I’m just… sitting here with you.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

When she smiles, her white teeth gleam. I shiver without meaning to.

She arches a brow, still smiling. “Don’t worry: you’re safe from me. Your brute of a husband would skin me alive if I hurt you again.”

“He can’t have anything happening to the Mikhailov princess,” I scoff sarcastically.

She snorts. “Don’t play dumb, Willow. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She leans in, her blue eyes sparking with something that looks suspiciously like sincerity. “Don’t you dare waste what you have, Willow. The man you care about is alive. He’s right in front of you. Make the most of it.”

I frown, bristling at the implication. “It’s not enough that I care about him. He has to care about me, too.”

She gives me an appraising look, as though she’s wondering how much she should say. “Pride,” she says at last. “Such a fucking waste of time.”

Now, it’s my turn to snort. “Have you told him that?”

She laughs and surveys me. “You know, I didn’t get it at first. But I do now. You’re a match for him.”

Again, my expression reveals more than I mean to.

“Don’t get offended,” she shrugs. “He needs a strong woman, and the woman I was holding hostage for Belov didn’t strike me as strong. But you’re different now.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not sure that’s enough of a compliment for me to thank you for it.”

Ariel smiles. “It’s a shame, really.”

“What is?”

“In another life, you and I might have been friends.”

My first instinct is revulsion. But it transforms quickly when I realize that she’s right. Of all the women in the world, only she knows what it’s like to be with a Solovev don.

“That depends,” I venture.

“Oh?” she asks, arching one perfect eyebrow. “On what?”

“On how close you got with Leo after Pavel’s death.”

It’s a dangerous question to ask, but I figure, fuck it. We’re having an honest conversation. And I definitely don’t want to bring this topic up again with Leo.

Ariel seems only mildly surprised. “Does that worry occupy a lot of your thoughts?”

“Less than it used to,” I admit.

She nods. “The truth? There was a time when I was so deep in grief that I thought Leo could replace Pavel. I was desperate for relief and Leo was there. He was sympathetic, he understood my pain. And in the right light, he even looked a little like his brother.”

I listen with bated breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I tried to kiss him one day,” she tells me. “And amazingly… he let me. At least long enough to allow me to realize what a huge fucking mistake I was making. I broke away and apologized. He told me not to worry. Then he left the room and we never spoke of it again.”

The consuming jealousy I expect doesn’t come. Instead, there’s sympathy. Something I never thought I’d feel for the blonde bitch who laughed at my pain.

Before I can admit to any of that, we hear thundering footsteps coming down the hall. A second later, Gaiman bursts through the door. “There you are,” he says, but he’s looking right at me.

“Jesus Christ,” Ariel snaps, leaping to her feet. “Is the sky falling down or something? What’s going on?”

“Leo’s office,” he says. “Now.”