Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)(85)

Even after what we just did, she still blushes. She breaks our heated eye contact and reaches for the wine.

“Do you think she’ll call?” she asks after a long sip to steady herself.

“Willow,” I say gently. “We’re pretending tonight. Normal. Remember?”

She sighs. “It’s easier said than done.”

“It was your idea.”

She takes a deep breath and sips her wine thoughtfully. “Okay. If we’re pretending… tell me where Ariel is right now.”

“She’s in France,” I say without hesitation. “She’s living in a villa in the south, deep in the countryside, no one around for miles. She goes down to the beach and swims in the ocean on the weekends.”

“And during the week?”

“She gardens, when the mood strikes. Paints, too.”

“She paints?”

“She used to,” I say. “In another life. Back when she was with my brother and she smiled all the time.”

“Does she have someone?” Willow asks tentatively. “Is she happy?”

“I want her to be happy,” I say. “But I know she’ll never love anyone like she loved Pavel. It’s more likely she has dozens of lovers dotted all over the continent. One for every day of the week with plenty to spare.”

“Sounds like the life,” she says, giving me a coy smirk. “What about you?”

“What about me?” I ask.

“You’ve spent your entire life as don chasing after revenge,” she points out. “What do you do now that you have it?”

The smile drops from my face. Some things cannot be imagined. They must be lived.

Revenge is one of those things.

“I don’t stop being don just because I killed Belov,” I growl. “In any case, I have two Bratvas to run instead of one.”

She frowns just like I am. Just like that, the spell of normalcy withers. We both drop the pretense of our fantasy. “So you plan on taking over after Belov?”

“It makes sense. Our son will inherit both,” I say. “I might as well make the transition easy for him.”

She studies me carefully, a curious look passing over her face.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say.

She takes a deep breath. “What if I stake my claim on the Mikhailov throne?”

I weigh it for a moment, but there isn’t much to truly consider. The answer is simple. Straightforward. “Then I’d hand over the reins to you.”

Her eyes go wide. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

She frowns, suspicion narrowing her eyes. “Are you only saying that because you know I have no real interest in leading a Bratva?”

“I don’t know that.”

She sighs. “You know exactly that. I just want to live a normal life, Leo. Somewhere quiet where I can raise my children.”

“Children?”

She looks away from me awkwardly. “I just meant—forget it. It was a slip. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She rolls her eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I thought I did. I’m going to continue to be don. I still have a Bratva to run, and I still have ambitions where the Solovev dynasty is concerned.”

“Ambition,” she repeats softly. “Every man’s undoing.”

“I disagree. It’s what raises us up. Ambition is a good thing.”

“So the Solovevs will grow?”

“In size and power,” I confirm.

“And Jax and Gaiman?”

“They’ll be by my side while I execute my vision.”

“What if one day they want to leave?”

“To do what?”

“I don’t know. What if one of them meets a girl? What if they get married and have children of their own?”

“They can do all that and still be by my side.”

“And if they choose not to?” she presses.

“Then they’re free to go. They’re not my prisoners, Willow. They’re my Vors. And more importantly, they’re my friends.”

She nods. “Right. Friends. Maybe the three of you can reinstate old traditions.”

She’s going somewhere with this, I’m just not sure where. She doesn’t make me wait long, though. Silence has always been her undoing.

“Tell me,” she says, running tentative fingers over her silverware, “when’s the last time you went to Vixen Pond? Or was it Vixen Palace?”

I sigh and press my head to the table for a moment. “That’s why I tell Jax to keep his mouth shut.”

She smiles. “I’m glad he opened up to me.”

“We were young,” I tell her. “And horny. It was the best way we knew how to celebrate. In fact, Jax still celebrates like that from time to time. Gaiman got tired of the scene a few years ago.”

“And you?”

I smile. “What is the answer you want from me, Willow?”

“The truth,” she says. “That’s all.”

“I enjoyed myself when I was a young man. That’s all I’ll say.”