Velvet Devil: A Russian Mafia Romance (53)

“He wants you to be safe.”

Something about the way Lachlan talks about Isaak suggests that he’s not just a random henchman or hired goon. There’s warmth to it. Kindness. Like they’re personal friends.

“Now you’re his spokesperson?”

“We’re Bratva,” Lachlan says. “We do things differently.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

“I’m just saying, Isaak wouldn’t have organized this for you if he wasn’t trying to make you feel more comfortable in his world.”

“So he makes the minimal amount of effort and I’m supposed to be eternally grateful?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

His smile gets wider.

“Am I amusing you?” I demand.

“Sorry,” he says, without offering an explanation for the smug expression he’s currently wearing.

“This is not what I want,” I say, gesturing to the luxurious space. “All this fuss and bother. I don’t need a t-shirt that costs three thousand dollars.”

“You’re not buying it, so why not?”

“This is not how I grew up.”

“Hey, I hear you,” he says, crossing over to the couch I’m sitting on.

He still keeps about three feet between us, but he sits down next to me. And oddly, I feel more comfortable—although the couch groans under his massive bulk like it wishes Lachlan would leave it alone. I feel more like I’m talking to a friend than I am to a taskmaster.

“I didn’t grow up like this, either. I grew up in Scotland, dirt poor. Dad’s a farmer, Mum bounced between temp jobs and staying at home with us. With six kids, she didn’t have much of a life.”

“Six kids?” I say, gawping at him.

He laughs. “It was a packed house at the Murphy residence.”

There’s warmth in the way he says that, too. I can tell he loves his family. His eyes get just a little brighter when he talks about them.

“I’m the youngest,” he adds. “And the smallest.”

I laugh out loud. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true. Four brothers and a sister, and I’m the runt of the litter.”

“What made you leave Scotland?”

“Isaak,” he answers shortly. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place at the right time, depending on how you look at it.”

“Sounds shady.”

“Depends on your definition of the term, I suppose. There was a scuffle that involved Isaak and some Bratva business. He was backed into a corner and I got involved and helped him out. The next day, I had a job.”

“And you knew what you were getting involved in?”

“Isaak had a bullet wound lost in his left shoulder when I got him out,” Lachlan says with a smile. “So yeah, I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“And what made a Scottish farm boy decide to accept a job offer from a Russian mob boss?”

“Well for one, he wasn’t a mob boss at the time. We were both in our twenties. We were young and ambitious.”

“And stupid.”

He laughs. “That, too. Isaak offered me a life that I never dreamed was possible.”

“A life of violence and corruption.”

“Aye, there’s some of that, “Lachlan acknowledges. His eyes go slightly misty. “But my family was about to lose the farm. Mum had just been diagnosed with cancer we couldn’t afford to treat. My sister had been accepted into university and even with a partial scholarship, she still couldn’t afford to go. So yes, there’s unseemly things to what I do. But I did it for them.”

I stiffen. I feel guilty for accusing him of being as craven as Isaak. But I’m still suspicious if he’s telling me the whole truth.

“Sounds pretty selfless coming from someone who hurts people for a living.”

Lachlan doesn’t hide it. He nods, honest and transparent. “It took a bit, but I realized that I enjoyed the life. It made me feel… important. Still does.”

“Still does?” I ask. “You’re a glorified babysitter today. Is this what you consider important?”

He smiles. “I’ve been working for Isaak for over ten years now. He’s never given me a job unless it was important. When he asked me to accompany you today, I knew it was because I’m one of the few he trusts with you.”

He’s breaking through my anger with his patience and honesty. I don’t like it.

“Is that why he sent you?” I ask suspiciously. “Or is it because he knew you’d be able to plead his case better than he can?”

Lachlan chuckles. “Isaak’s not the kind of man who’s going to plead his case. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He’s not all bad, you know.”

I roll my eyes. “I can make up my mind about him myself, thanks,” I say rather bitchily. “I think I’d like to get back to the manor now.”

“You haven’t picked out anything.”

“Everything here is beautiful. But I’m not about to blow a bunch of money on clothes I can don’t need and don’t want. If I’m going to shop, I’m going to buy the clothes that I’m comfortable in.”