Page 44 of Beloved Bride


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VIKTOR

Alexei’s men didn’t beat us hard enough to leave serious injuries, but we’re out cold for a decent amount of time. When I come to, it’s starting to get dark outside, and my stomach drops as I realize that Alexei has had enough time to put a good bit of distance between him and us. I have no idea where he’s headed, no clue where he might be taking them.

I hear a groan from the far end of the sofa and see Max sitting up slowly, his hand pressed to his nose. “I think they broke my fucking nose,” he growls.

Liam is sitting up too, and he laughs, looking sideways at Max as he touches his mouth gingerly. “Watch your language, priest. You’ll end up in the confessional. Or do you just confess to yourself? How does that work, exactly?”

Max glares at him irritably. “If you ever found yourself on the right side of the door for Mass, you’d know.”

“How do you know I don’t?” Liam gives him a cheeky grin, then winces. “Ah, shite. Bastard split my lip open.”

“Call it a hunch.” Max grimaces, reaching up to grasp his nose and move it back into place. “Fuck!” he yells, and I can hear the crunching sound as he does it.

Liam makes a face. “Do that somewhere else next time, aye? Enough to make a man lose his breakfast.”

“Luca is still out cold.” Max ignores Liam’s ribbing, moving around the other man to crawl alongside Luca, reaching for his shoulder. “Luca. Wake up, man.”

“He got the worst of it, I think,” Liam says. “Him and Viktor.” He glances up at me, his face creased with concern. “You alright, lad?”

“I’m fifteen years your senior if I’m a day,” I tell him darkly, getting to my feet and crossing to where Luca is still lying on the floor. “So “sir” would be more appropriate than “lad,” I think.”

“Viktor it is.”

“You’re in a remarkably good mood, considering the beating you just took, and the fact that the woman you’ve been flirting with for the better part of three weeks is in Alexei’s custody, along with our wives and my children.” I look at him darkly. “Or maybe you missed that?”

“I didn’t.” Liam frowns. “I saw it all, Viktor. I apologize.” He shrugs, watching as Luca starts to come to, Max helping him to sit up halfway. “The best way to keep a bad situation from getting to you is humor, I’ve found.”

“Not my experience.” I glance at Luca. “How is he?”

“I’ll live,” Luca speaks before Max can, with some difficulty, although it doesn’t look as if there’s any permanent damage done. “I think they might have cracked a rib or two. It feels like a knife in my side every time I breathe. But I’m not dead.”

“Well, that’s something.” I frown, looking at the three of them. “Alexei has already put too much distance between him and us. It’s going to be difficult to find out where he’s taken them. It sounds strange to say it, but the one thing that we have in our favor is that we don’t have to be concerned about him hurting them. He’ll want to get a good price, which means keeping them in good condition. That will buy us a little time.”

Luca narrows his eyes. “That doesn’t protectmychild. And there are other ways to inflict hurt that don’t leave marks. You know that very well, Viktor.”

“I do.” I let out a breath. “But we have to think about our options. Alexei has the upper hand now, no matter how much we might hate it. We’re playing his game, and we need to do it carefully. He’s calculating—more so than I ever realized,” I admit.

“You didn’t see signs of this?” Liam narrows his eyes. “Not a single hint that one of your closest men was on the verge of betraying you?”

“No.” I glare at him. “If I had, I would have taken steps to prevent it.”

“Given what happened to Sasha, I think it’s safe to say there was dissent in your ranks well before Alexei decided to—”

Something snaps inside of me. I’d held back my rage the entire time that Alexei was here, knowing that losing control of my emotions meant harm or death to my family and those depending on me. But now that the immediate danger has passed, I’m on the knife’s edge of losing it. And being on the other end of questioning from a cocky Irishman fifteen years my junior is the last straw.

I swing at him, intent on landing a blow square on his jaw. I’ve punched a man or three in my lifetime, though I don’t usually rely on my fists. But Liam dodges the blow neatly, smirking as he sidesteps me.

“Got to be faster, old man,” he says with a grin. “Or maybe you are losing your edge.”

“That’s not an improvement onlad,” I growl and swing again.

I miss. It’s not all that strange, considering I was out cold a few minutes ago. And Liam moves like a boxer, lithely going up on his toes and getting out of range like it’s second nature to him.

“Viktor!” Luca’s voice, thick with pain but still commanding, rings out through the room. “Enough!”

I grit my teeth, swinging to face him. “You’re going to give me orders in my own home, Romano?”

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