Page 49 of The Bratva King

“No.”

He gives me a look that suggests he finds that answer incomplete.

“She’s interesting,” I say.

“Interesting.”

“She’s not who she says she is, and I want to know who she is.”

He smirks. “So, you move her into your house.”

“Keep your enemies close.”

“Is she an enemy?”

“I don’t know.”

He cuts his steak. “What’s your instinct? Threat or not a threat?”

“Not a threat to us,” I say. “I believe that, but she doesn’t like the police. It’s more like she’s afraid of being seen.”

“But she works in a busy casino.”

“We don’t get a lot of police asking questions in here. I think there’s a level of safety in being surrounded by security.”

“If that’s what she’s doing, hiding in plain sight, that’s smart.”

“Exactly.”

He laughs. “You admire her.”

I shrug. “I’m intrigued. And she has a kid. I’m not going to leave him out there on the street.”

“Never took you for a bleeding heart.”

“I’m not a monster. I like the kid.”

Pasha smiles. “We’ll have to schedule a playdate.”

“What the hell is a playdate?”

He laughs. “We’ll figure it out.”

I take a few bites, mulling over the situation. I hadn’t given myself much time to think it through. I just tossed her shit in my SUV, and the decision was made.

“It feels off,” I say. “The whole picture. And I don’t like things in my orbit that I don’t understand.”

“So, it’s strategic.”

“It’s practical.”

“And if it’s nothing?” Pasha says. “If she’s just a woman with a complicated past who needed a fresh start and made herself one?”

“It’s not nothing.”

“I’ll make some calls tomorrow,” he says.

“Don’t. Nothing on the books. Let me see how it goes.”