Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)(68)

“Doesn’t seem smart to waste men when you’re going up against Belov.”

“I’ve told you already: I can hold my own.”

“I’m not so sure. You’ve already underestimated one person today.”

He grinds his teeth together, but I can’t help but revel in his anger. This is the first time I’ve actually managed to get my way with Leo.

It feels good.

“Stop looking so goddamn smug,” he snaps. “Do you think this is a game? Do you think you showing up here is some funny prank? Because it’s—”

“You’re the one who told me to go after what I want,” I remind him coldly. “You told me to fight. That’s what I’m doing. Now the only question is: am I fighting with you or against you?”

He stares at me for a few seconds, eyes roaming my face. “Blyat’,” he finally growls. “Fine. You can come. But you stay behind me the entire time and, from this moment on, you follow my orders. Do you understand me?”

“I’m not some—”

His eyes freeze over. “I don’t give a fuck what you think you are. Not here. Not now. From now on, I am your don. My word is law. So answer the question. Do. You. Understand. Me?”

Looking into his face now, I can see why so many men are willing to follow him to the ends of the earth. To die for him.

His eyes are glowing, wreathed in fire and fury. His jaw clenched cruelly tight, eyebrows arrowed downwards. He looks like a king. He looks like a god.

He looks like a don.

“Fine,” I croak.

“If I say run?”

“I run.”

“If I say hide?”

“I hide.”

He smirks. “Bit by bit, you’re learning.”

“Now, who’s smug?” I grumble.

Leo ignores me. “Jax!” he barks. “Get her a vest and a weapon. She’s coming with us.”

“Seriously?” Jax calls.

I tilt my head to the side. “Questioning the don, are we, Jax?”

He raises his eyebrows while Gaiman suppresses a laugh. A minute later, I’m being fitted with a bulletproof vest and a gun.

“Is this really necessary?” I ask as I pull the heavy vest over my head.

Jax is a little gruff, observing me as I fiddle with the straps to try and get it to fit right on my torso. “Unless you like bullets in the chest,” he says, “then yes.”

“Are you wearing one?”

“I don’t need one.”

“Why?” I demand. “Are you bulletproof?”

“I’m not an amateur.”

“Neither am I. I’ve been training hard for months.”

“Training and actually being on the ground are two different things,” Leo interjects. “This is the real world, Willow. When you get knocked down, there might not be anyone to pick you back up again.”

Gaiman joins us, flanking Leo on the other side. I have to admit, the three of them make an impressive group. I wonder if Belov knows quite what he is up against.

“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll wear the damn thing.”

“Great,” Jax drawls. “Now, could you take it off and turn it around? It’s backwards.”

I look down and realize that’s why the damned thing won’t sit right. “Jesus,” I mutter.

“Here.” Gaiman moves forward. “Let me help.”

I expect Leo to stop him and take over. Instead, he turns his back on me and starts barking orders to his men.

It’s almost unnecessary, though. The soldiers fall into formation like they were born knowing how to do it. I watch them as Gaiman fastens the vest on me.

“Thanks,” I say quietly, avoiding his eyes.

“Leo is right, you know. This situation is dangerous. You need to stay close to us. And if shit hits the fan, you need to be able to listen.”

I frown. “I already got one lecture from Leo.”

He almost smiles. “My observation has been that you don’t do well when you’re given an order.”

“I can follow orders!”

“If that were true, you’d be back at the cabin, safe and sound.”

“I’m not interested in ‘safe and sound’ anymore,” I whisper mournfully. “I just want my son back.”

“Did you ever think that being here might compromise that?” he suggests.

Leo is watching us. Our conversation is whispered, but I’m certain Leo can hear. The bastard knows everything.

“How?” I ask defensively.

“If Belov decides to open fire and make this an all-out war, have you thought about what would happen if we don’t win?” he asks. “He’d take Leo out. He’d take you out. And he already has your son. Who is left to oppose him then?”

I’ve already thought about all of this. Every worst-case scenario has been floating around in my head for days. I don’t need Gaiman to remind me of them.

“I guess we only have one option, then.”

“And what’s that?”

“Don’t lose.”

He stares at me for a moment and then he smiles. “You’ll make a fine Bratva queen one day.”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” I say. “One horrifying situation at a time, okay?”