Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)(81)

“Oh, God,” I groan. “I’m not sure I want to hear the grisly details, Jax.”

He ignores me. “Vixen’s Garden or Vixen’s Palace. Some shit like that. But lemme tell you, the girls were great. And willing. I never had to pay extra to get a—”

He breaks off when he notices the look on my face.

“Sorry,” he says with a sheepish smile. “Forgot who I was talking to.”

“I’ll bet you did,” I say. “So at this strip club, what did Leo enjoy?”

The smile drops off his face. “It was long before you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“You hear that? I think I hear Gaiman calling me.”

I grab his arm. “Jax!”

“Sorry, gotta go.” Laughing, he pushes himself off the rock and starts ambling off in the opposite direction.

“Coward!” I yell. He just laughs as he disappears into the trees.

Sighing, I turn back to the mountains and try to enjoy the silence. When I first got here, it was calming. A moment of respite after a lifetime of chaos.

But there’s no comfort in it anymore. Not when I know my son is Spartak Belov’s prisoner and there’s nothing I can do to get him back.

The smile Jax left behind dies on my lips. Grimacing, I stand up and head back to the main cabin.

When I come through the trees, I see Leo outside in the other training yard. He’s got his sweats on, but otherwise, he’s naked from the waist up.

He hasn’t noticed me yet, so I stand and admire. It’s impossible not to. His body is all muscle. But where Jax is bulky, like a garbage bag full of ribeyes with a twelve-year-old’s sense of humor, Leo is lean and toned and serious.

He squares up with the punching bag. A roundhouse kick, followed by three jabs. The first punch makes the bag shiver. The second sends it swinging. The third knocks it clean off the hook.

It lands on the snow a few feet away, kicking up a white dust cloud.

The man is a machine. When he turns to me, he’s barely breathing hard.

“Enjoying the view?” he asks.

Maybe he noticed me after all.

I try not to be affected by how intense his gaze is today. Stormier than usual. I keep my head down as I walk over to the porch steps and sit down on the top stair.

“Something bothering you?” I ask.

“Always. Why do you ask?”

“You beat that bag up like it owed you money.”

He shrugs without even a hint of a smile. “Needed to let off a little steam.”

“Fucking me in the snow didn’t do it for you?”

That almost draws a smile. “Maybe I just need to try it again.”

My skin heats instantly. My attempt to set him off balance backfired. I don’t know why I’m surprised—Leo always has a comeback ready.

He saunters over and sits next to me on the porch steps. “Ariel called.”

My face goes ghost-white. “What?” I gape at him. “When? What did she say?”

“This morning.”

“That’s why Gaiman came and got you.”

Leo nods.

“Why didn’t you come get me?”

“It was a short call. She didn’t have much time.”

I grit my teeth in frustration. I’m always on the outside, looking in. I’m getting very fucking sick of it. “What did she say?”

“She said that Pasha was safe and doing well. He’s being looked after. Spartak has a nanny carrying for him.”

Relief floods through me. I know from experience that it’s probably going to be short-lived—nothing good in this world lasts long—but at least it’s something.

“Wait,” I say, thinking fast. “This means that Belov probably wasn’t lying about wanting to make Pasha his heir.”

“I don’t think he was lying about his impotence either,” Leo agrees. “No man would lie about that. Not to his enemy’s face.”

“So the deal he offered me was for real.”

He looks me right in the eye. “Tell me you wouldn’t actually take him up on that.”

“To protect my son?” I say. “I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“You don’t know what you’d be walking into. You still don’t understand.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

I expect to be met with anger, and I’m gearing up for a fight, but he just sighs and doesn’t say anything more. In fact, he doesn’t even seem angry. He just looks… thoughtful. Pensive.

“What else did Ariel say?” I prod gently after a moment has passed.

“She was with Pasha when she called me,” he admits. “And I… I heard him…”

The hair on my neck stands on end and guilt tugs at me. I can’t imagine being denied all the memories I have with Pasha. Holding him, kissing his cheeks, smelling him. The tiny little moments that confirmed that he was real, that he was mine, that he was beautiful.

Leo has had none of that.

“I wish you could have been there,” I whispered. “When I gave birth to him.”

“Were you alone?”

“Apart from the doctors, yes. But I preferred it that way. Anya wasn’t exactly interested.”