Page 7 of The Breath Before Forever

At least, not forever.

It was what it was.

Igor wanted an easy transition in the brotherhood as he took over. Vaslav, of course, pointed out that in the midst of reorganizing power and communication structures amongst thieves was always easier said than done. Igor’s efforts would be in vain—the wings waited with someone to strike when big changes happened in the criminal world.

Either way, it was a lesson better learned. Things like that couldn’t be taught, and Vaslav had to take a step back in that regard. He no longer had a desire to be the man constantly looking over his shoulder. Props to Igor for taking up the job—whether he wanted to or not.

“She can’t be used as a prop,” Vaslav warned.

Vera wouldn’t turn into someone’s next target, and certainly not because of someone else’s—mainly Igor—stupidity,

“At most,” Igor said, “she’ll be a passing moment in a significant day.”

Vaslav chuckled dryly. “Listen to you—romanticizing it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Vas,” Igor replied as he turned away to leave, “I know good and well how lonely it is at the top. Also, compliments of you.”

Before the man could totally disappear beyond the doors, Vaslav called at Igor’s back, “What’s the latest news on Kiril?”

As he knew the question would—it stopped Igor’s leave in his tracks. “You don’t care.”

“Not what I asked, either.”

Igor’s shoulders lifted with a heavy exhale. “Looks like he’ll be out doing his thing again next week. Or around then. I may have paid for a decent legal representative to make a few visits.”

“And a few calls for him, too, I imagine.”

Igor didn’t confirm it, but Vaslav didn’t need him to.

Vaslav himself might not have been willing to step in on the boy’s behalf, but Igor had every right to the moment he agreed to take over for his former boss. Vaslav’s word was only law until it wasn’t, after all.

Igor glanced over his shoulder, finding Vaslav still sitting alone in the darkness of his den. “I’ll have to keep my eye on him, of course.”

Right ...

Because Kiril’s upcoming freedom meant very little at the end of the day. It certainly wasn’t a guarantee that trouble wouldn’t follow the kid—or his connection to the mafiya—beyond the bars of a cell. It also didn’t promise that he hadn’t talked.

“Good luck with that,” Vaslav muttered.

Igor shook his head, replying in kind, “Yeah.” Then, he asked, “Aren’t you getting back to the party?”

“Is it—a party?”

“You know what I mean.”

Vaslav scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “I need a break from the noise.” And hell, maybe his wife would come looking for him, and then he could get an early start on the better portion of his evening. Wouldn’t that be grand? “Why don’t you go dance with that green-eyed woman? You two certainly looked like you might enjoy it.”

“Smooth, Vas,” Igor bitched under his breath as he exited the office. “Really smooth.”

“Being lonely,” Vaslav called back, “doesn’t also mean your bed needs to be cold, old friend.”

Another lesson the man would be wise to learn from Vaslav.

*

Vera had stepped inside Vaslav’s office only a few short minutes after Igor left, and the second she closed and locked the door behind her—assured he wasn’t hiding in the dark with a severe migraine—it was on.

All Vaslav needed to get hard was Vera alone in a room with him. Fuck the door, it didn’t even have to be locked. Although, she was getting better at remembering to do so. Of course, once she had heard the laughter and music rising from down the hall, his plans turned dirty.