And Valerie calmly takes a sip of wine like she didn't just eviscerate a made man in front of the entire family.
That flash of darkness. The viper I've been hunting.
The need to fuck her right here on this table is overwhelming.
The rest of the evening goes on. Valerie answers questions from others with unexpected calmness. She's nervous—I can sense it in how she keeps reaching for my hand—but she gets through it.
We leave around midnight. Valerie leans against me in the car, exhausted.
"You did well tonight," I say. "The thing with Pavel. That's exactly what I wanted to see."
She looks up. "I shouldn't have said that. I should have stayed quiet—"
"No. Never hide that part of you. The steel underneath. That's what I want."
"Why?" Genuine confusion. "Why do you want that?"
"Because it's real." I tilt her chin up. "Because most people hide their darkness and pretend to be something they're not. But you—you have steel underneath all that fear. And I want that part of you."
She doesn't argue.
Back at the house, I take her to my room. She follows without protest.
We get ready for bed. She borrows my shirt again. I let her because seeing her in my things satisfies the possessiveness that never quite settles.
In bed, she turns to face me.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Depends."
"Your wife. Mila's mother. What happened?"
Everything goes cold. "Why?"
"Because Mila asked if I thought her mama was watching from heaven. And I didn't know what to say."
I should shut this down.
But the question is reasonable, and she needs to understand what happens to people who threaten what's mine.
"Her name was Katya." The words come out flat. Clinical. "We were married six years. Had Dmitri first, then Mila."
"What happened?"
"Someone made a move on our territory. Sent men to my house while I was handling business across town." The memory plays behind my eyes with perfect clarity. "They broke through security. Got inside."
I pause, studying Valerie's face in the darkness. She's listening intently, not interrupting.
"I got the alert ninety seconds after the breach. Drove like hell. Still took twelve minutes." Twelve minutes that cost everything. "By the time I arrived, they were gone. Katya and Dmitri were dead."
"Lev—"
"I found them in our bedroom. Katya was on the floor between the bed and the wall where she'd tried to run. Two bullets—back of the head, execution-style. Clean. Professional." My voice stays flat, emotionless. This is just facts. Data. "Dmitri in his crib. They shot a two-year-old in his fucking crib. Three times to make sure he was dead. Not wounded. Dead."
Valerie makes a sound but doesn't speak.
"Mila was in the corner. Sitting in a pool of their blood. It had spread across the floor, and she was just sitting there, covered in it. Brain matter on her pajamas. Her mother's brain matter. Her brother's." I pull Valerie closer, not for comfort but for possession. "Her voice was gone from screaming and wailing for so long while they bled out around her."
