Velvet Devil: A Russian Mafia Romance (29)

There it is again. Another word that means so much more than it should. Consequences. It makes me thinks of whips and chains.

“I’ll see you at eight.”

Then he storms out and I’m left all alone in this gorgeous, haunted castle. I won a minor victory in this battle, maybe—but I have no doubt that Isaak Vorobev intends to win the war.





11





Isaak





“There must be some trace of him.”

Bogdan looks up from the screen. “I’m afraid not. He went under soon after the dust cleared.”

“How many of his men did we get?”

“Fifteen,” Bogdan replies. “The rest fled with him. And with his resources here, he’s going to be tough to find if he doesn’t want to be found.”

“All those resources didn’t protect him from us,” I snort.

“True. We had the element of surprise and Maxim was cocky. But he knows we’re here now.”

I lean back in my armchair and consider the situation. Something about it is fucking irritating me and I can’t quite figure out what. We’ve been planning this mission for years now. I’ve had time to contemplate every angle, every strategy.

And my plan worked perfectly. Or almost perfectly. I got the girl. Decimated Maxim’s personal forces. Sent him running for the goddamn hills.

The only way it could’ve gone better would be if I had his head on a silver platter right now.

But that failure isn’t what bothers me. He’s on the run now. It won’t be long until I dig the rat up from his hiding hole and end his miserable life.

No, the thing I’m angry about is the time it took to get this far. Eighteen months they were engaged. That’s eighteen months of touching her. Of kissing her. Of taking what was never his to take.

That shit makes me see red.

“You okay, sobrat?” Bogdan asks, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop aside.

“I want everyone on high alert,” I say instead of answering his question. “The fucker knows I have her now. He’s going to try and take her back.”

“That would really put a damper on your honeymoon.”

I chuck a pen at his head. He ducks and laughs, knowing he’s the only one who can get away with saying that kind of thing to me.

“She’s very beautiful, you know,” he adds, slumping back in his chair.

“So you’ve said.”

“Do you think Maxim knows?”

“Knows what?”

“That you and Camila only really had that one night together. One conversation, really.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he knows. He miscalculated badly.”

“Oh, I don’t know about all that.”

I narrow my eyes at Bogdan. I love the little whelp, but he can be tiring sometimes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying, he was right in assuming she meant something to you. Otherwise, why would we go through all this trouble to take her back?”

“I didn’t want him thinking he’d won.”

“And that’s the only reason.”

I glare at him. “Yes.”

“If you say so.”

“Don’t make me send you back to New York.”

“Please,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You’d miss me too much.”

“But at least I’d be able to get some peace and quiet.”

Bogdan chuckles, but his expression irons out as he looks at the mess of paperwork on the desk between us. “You don’t have to go through all this yourself, you know. We have an accountant.”

“I don’t trust anyone with my money but me.”

Bogdan shakes his head. “Papa used to do this, too.”

Our father’s shadow has been hanging over my head since the moment he took his last breath. In life, he made sure to imprint his presence into the very folds of my skin. No matter what I do, I can’t escape his voice in my head. I glance down at the silver scars along my right arm and remember him.

“I should have had the same scars,” Bogdan says suddenly, noticing where my gaze is directed.

“What?”

“You think I don’t know, but I do,” he says. “He never cut me—because you stood in front of me. You stopped him from teaching me the lessons he taught you.”

My jaw flexes uncomfortably. “When Uncle Yakov died, I knew I’d be don one day. So it was necessary for me to learn. It wasn’t necessary for you.”

“Sure, I know all that. But I know how much you protected me from him.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me, little brother?”

Bogdan smiles. “Not today.”

I get to my feet and move for the door. I feel restless and impatient sitting here. I need to pace, to move, to feel like I’m doing something.

Bogdan reaches for his laptop to resume the hunt for my traitorous cousin. “Before you go,” he calls after me without looking up from his screen, “you should know that Mother called this morning.”

“Did you tell her we’re in London?”

“I had to.”

I nod. “I’ll call her later.”