Velvet Devil: A Russian Mafia Romance (103)

Unfortunately for him, I don’t give a fuck.

My mind is made up where Maxim is concerned. If he thinks this is a genuine attempt at parlaying my sympathies into sparing his life, he’s wrong. And if he thinks this shameless manipulation will convince me to let Camila go, he’s extremely fucking wrong.

She’s mine.

“Well?” Bogdan asks, eyeing the letter curiously. “What does he say?”

“He wants Camila back.”

“We already knew that,” Vlad grumbles.

I shake my head. “This is different. He’s claiming he’ll give up his claim to the Bratva and disappear if I just give Camila back to him.”

Both Vlad and Bogdan look dumbfounded by that. “Seriously?” Bogdan blurts.

I glare at my younger brother. “That depends. Do you think this is a serious letter?” I ask rhetorically, waving it in his face. “This is a plot in the making. He’s trying to orchestrate a meeting so that he can ambush us.”

“After what happened last time, he’s going to know we’ll show up in full force,” Bogdan points out.

“That’s just it. He will, too.”

“Why would he want to come at you this way?” Bogdan asks. “He’s obviously at a disadvantage. We have the stronger numbers and the stronger fighters.”

“I agree,” Vlad says with a nod. “It doesn’t feel like a fully formed plan. It doesn’t sound like a smart one, either.”

“Maybe it has nothing to do with a fight,” I say, glancing down at the letter.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe this is a test. Maybe he’s expecting me to refuse. If I refuse to give him Camila even after dangling this carrot in front of me, that will only confirm that…”

I break off, unable to say the words. But I don’t have to, because Bogdan says it for me.

“It’ll confirm that your feelings for Camila are sincere, too. That she means more to you than you want him to believe.”

I raise my eyes to my brother’s. “He’s going to know that the best way to get to me is to get to her.”

The three of us stand around in a loose semi-circle. I’ve never felt Lachlan’s absence more than I do right now. He always stood to my left. Bogdan flanked my right and Vlad stood opposite me. We’d never consciously agreed to that placement. It just happened naturally. And now, without the Scotsman here, things feel jagged and incomplete.

“What are you going to do?” Bogdan asks. “We can’t let his attempts at contact go unanswered.”

“Last I checked, I’m the don. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Bogdan nods deferentially. “You’re right, sobrat.”

I turn to leave. I need some time to think. Maxim’s letter is still clutched in my hand. I’m planning on reading it a couple more times. Maybe I can read the hidden message between the lines. Suss out something else about what that snake might be thinking.

But the moment I open the door, Camila is there.

She’s pale-faced and her eyes are wide with shock. She looks up at me but makes no apology for sulking outside my door. It’s clear that she’s been standing here for a while.

It’s also clear that she’s heard a good portion of our conversation. Which means she knows that Maxim is looking for her. She probably even knows that he wants her back.

“Were you going to tell me?” she asks, confirming it.

I don’t hesitate or shy from the truth. “No.”

She flinches. “What exactly did he say?”

Instead of bothering with an answer, I push past her roughly and head towards the stairs.

She twists around and follows me. “Isaak, you can’t just walk away from this. It directly involves me. I deserve to know.”

We’re on the staircase when I turn abruptly on my heel, forcing her to standstill. She’s two steps higher than me, which puts us at eye level with one another. I put my arms out across the banister so that she won’t be able to get past me even if she tries.

“You deserve only what I say you deserve,” I growl. “And I say you’re not going anywhere.”

“Isaak,” she says, her eyes bright with emotion. “Please… you can’t do this.”

“It’s already done.”

I turn away and continue descending the stairs. She follows me right through the house and out into the garden.

“Go back inside, Camila.”

“No,” she says stubbornly. “Not until you tell me what Maxim said, what he wants… I want to know.”

“Why?”

Her eyes chip like ice. “Because I deserve the choice.”

“You are my wife,” I remind her.

“You always say that word like it’s a weapon,” she chokes out. “You act like marriage is a pair of handcuffs that you’ve latched on me. I told you once before: no one can take me. I don’t belong to any man.”

“Do you think—”

“I’m not done,” she cuts in, eyes blazing. “Yes, we’ve slept together. And yes, I’ve even enjoyed it. But that doesn’t mean you own me. And it won’t until I decide I’m giving myself to you. Wholly and completely.”