Page 57 of Possessive Mafia Bodyguard

I slide them from my inside jacket pockets and place them in his palm, heat and anger and every swear word I’ve ever learned rushing around my veins and threatening to cause an explosion that will seal my fate with the Ivanov family one way or another.

I move to step around him, and he places his bulky frame between me and the rest of the world.

“And the rest.”

“That’s everything.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “Do you want me to search you?”

“I’d like to see you fucking try.” I instinctively reach for the blades inside my jacket and the blood drains from my face when they’re not there.

“Not quite so confident now.” A small silver scar splits his left eyebrow as he smirks at me, and I fight the urge to give him a matching one above his right eye. “All weapons, that was the order.”

I could fight him with the blades inside my boots, but he’ll read the move and put a bullet in me before my fingers even close around the hilt. Or I could ask him to return my weapons, head back inside, and wait until Leonid returns to tell him about Ivana. But the first option will get me killed, and the second option comes with the kind of humiliation that was served up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the orphanage. Something that Ivana and I promised each other we would never tolerate again once we found our new life here in Chicago.

I look him in the eye, raise my middle finger, and say, “Go fuck yourself.”

I don’t flinch as he slides a gun from his holster and presses it against my temple.

“You sure about that?” His face is so close to mine I can smell coffee on his breath and garlic from whatever he ate the night before. “Want to change your mind before I splatter your brains across the porch?”

“Nope.” I hold his gaze. “I won’t be the one cleaning them up and groveling to the Pakhan because you killed his best enforcer.”

“You’ve got some fucking balls.” His smile isn’t the kind that wants to be reciprocated, and I don’t see his other hand move. But I feel it when he lifts the hem of my skirt and grabs my pussy.

Seems my conversation with Leonid did nothing to quell my impulsiveness. I chop his arm with my left hand and raise my right knee to his groin, the sensation of his balls meeting bone making me want to vomit. Before he even has a chance to press the trigger, I’ve grabbed his wrist and wrenched him forward, the momentum stealing his balance as my right fist connects with his jaw.

Pain explodes in my knuckles. But he doesn’t go down. I watch his fist arcing towards my face as I duck and lunge at his legs, the top of my head hitting his thighs. He sprawls backwards with me on top of him, as a woman’s voice rings out, “Stop!”

Gianna steps out from around the side of the house holding her daughters’ hands, and my stomach clenches tightly as she ushers the twins behind her to shield them from the sight of us fighting.

I haul myself onto my feet, sucking in air, and straighten my clothes to face her.

Behind me, I sense the security guard is doing the same. He towers over me, casting me into shadow, and says, “Sorry, Mrs. Ivanov. If I’d known you and the children were there…”

Gianna ignores him and looks me up and down, checking for signs that I might require medical attention. “Are you hurt, Tamara?” She steps closer, her daughters hiding behind her.

“No.” Only my pride.

She narrows her eyes at the security guard. “Can you explain why I watched you attack another member of the Pakhan’s team?”

Gianna’s olive skin, high cheekbones, and luscious honey-blonde hair wouldn’t look out of place on a Hollywood movie set. When she isn’t being a mom to Anya and Liliyana, she devotes her time to helping women seeking refuge from abusive relationships, and she charmed Leonid when he was keeping her captive enough for him to adopt a dog from a rescue charity for her.

But I sense the guard squirming beneath her gaze now, and I don’t think it can be blamed entirely on the fact that she’s married to the Pakhan.

“Just following orders, ma’am.”

“Which are?” Her eyebrows practically disappear beneath her bangs.

“The enforcer isn’t to leave the building with her weapons…” He pauses as if unsure whether to continue or hold back, then decides he has nothing to lose. “And if she leaves, she isn’t to return.”

Gianna locks eyes with me, blinking while she processes the statement. “Is this true, Tamara?”

“Yes.” And I was moments away from walking out of here for the last time if she hadn’t shown up when she did.

My pulse races. Is that what I really want, to walk away from the family who saved me and my sister to prove a point to this asshole? When I stepped through the door, I hadn’t considered Leonid’s threat. I hadn’t thought beyond finding Leonid and telling him what I knew about Ivana. I certainly hadn’t dwelled on not being allowed back in the house.

Now, I glance at the open front door, my knuckles throbbing, and my pussy feeling violated by this fucker, and I know I’m not ready to leave. I’m twenty-five years old, but I still need a safe space.