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“Privet,malyshka, such a pretty little thing you are.” His voice is smoky and rich but not as gravelly as the other guy’s.

Gravel-Voice growls at him and says something in Russian that causes the man to smile wickedly, wink at me then get out.

The car door on the other side stays open while the door on my side closes. Hey, what the hell? I go to open it only to find it locked. Their deep voices are low, yet I clearly hear them speaking Russian. Gravel-Voice goes to his maybe brother’s side. With a nod, the maybe brother and the guy who retrieved the kitten walk toward Carlo’s house. I check my watch—nine on the dot.

He lowers himself into the SUV I would have had to climb up into if he hadn’t put me in. He closes the door with barely a sound. An eyebrow goes up as yellow eyes run over me. “Where is the clinic,malyshka?”

I have no idea why I’m blushing. How is it so freaking hot in here? What doesmalyshkamean? A meow reminds me of what I’m doing in here with him. The address spills out of me in a rush.

The driver grunts, I guess that means he heard it or knows where it is.

“Seat belt. Safety, always,” he murmurs from low in his chest.

I’m all thumbs as I stretch the belt across me. Dang it, I pull off my mittens to get a grip. I can’t find the— Oh. His hands are on mine, taking the metal part for me. My stomach drops to the floor as electricity courses through me so strong it scares the hell out of me.

The kitten meows again, yanking me out of shock. I move the belt from across him. “It’s okay, baby. You’re going to be okay.”

“Are you so ferocious for all animals, or do you prefer cats?” A dark eyebrow is up as he studies me with…curiosity, or is it intent? Why would it be intent?

He shifts ever so slightly and all at once he’s too close. It doesn’t matter there’s at least five feet between us and the back of the SUV is large, he’s larger. He reminds me of a big cat; the energy around him is tense, as though he’s waiting to strike.

“I like all animals but prefer cats. Dogs are desperate for affection—they’ll do anything to be reassured they are loved. Cats are more honest and real. If they don’t like you then you know. There’s no guessing with cats. Some people think a cat has to be all over them, but sometimes they show you they like you by simply letting you be around them. Once you’ve earned their trust they are incredibly loyal.”Stop babbling, you weirdo.“Who are you?” The words fly out without any plan.

A smile, with only half of his thick lips. I wonder if they are as soft as they look. “I am Milos Levin. And you are?”

He pronounces itMilosh,and I have no idea why I’m blushing again. When he speaks Russian it’s fluid, yet when he speaks English there is barely a trace of an accent. Was English his first language? “Celia Parker. You’re also mafia. You left that part out.”

His smile deepens. “Is it so obvious? For Russians, we are Bratva.”

“Obvious you’ve killed people, probably with your bare hands? Yes. Also Carlo loves to make mafia come to him. The people whose asses he wants to kiss, he goes to them or meets them at his restaurant.”

Yellow glows down at me. “What do you know about mafia and people who kill with their bare hands,malyshka?”

“Carlo’s my sperm donor. He’s proud of what he is and loves to brag about all the shit he’s done to me and my little sister. We only exist for his ego and benefit. He’ll parade us around if he needs to look like a family man. The whole time we don’t live in his home or have his name, and if someone he wanted to impress asked if we were his, he denied us.”Stop babbling, stop it right now. Only I can’t—his eyes on me unnerve me completely.

“With my mom half-Filipino, we weren’t good enough to have his name. Because the mafia is filled with racist assholes. Never mind that most people have no idea we’re a quarter Filipino. Carlo did his best to wipe it out of our home—my mom wasn’t allowed to cook Filipino food or speak the language around us.”

Like every time I dare to let myself speak of Carlo, the bitterness threatens to consume me. “He told me today he’s not paying for me to go to college. Which means I can’t go at all.” Fuck, I wipe the tears that spill over. “He has the money. It’s not even his money I want, it’s my money. His mother left money for me and my sister for exactly this reason—so we could go to school and live our lives without depending on him. He brags constantly about how much money he has. But he won’t pay for me to go to school to become a veterinarian because it would be a waste when I’m only good to get married and have kids. Yet he also tells me he can’t find anyone who wants to marry me, so I’m useless to him. If I’m useless then let me go to school.”

I check on the kitten. He’s just staring up at me, unblinking. Huh, his eyes are yellow like Gravel-Voice—Milos. He’s calm for a kitten. Usually they meow on repeat until they get what they want,and they are always hungry.

“You are not able to attend university without your father’s help.” Is it a question?

Shaking my head, I sigh. “Sperm donor, not father,” I correct him. “No, if it were for anything else maybe, but the veterinarian program is hard. I’m dyslexic so studying is torture. Which means I can’t also handle an actual job while going to school like so many people do. The Pell Grant and the few thousand in scholarships I got aren’t enough for me to go the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign. And loans aren’t an option. It also isn’t his help—like I said, his mother left us money. If I had access to it, I could go.”

“There is no other access to the money? Wouldn’t the money be held away independently?”

I roll my eyes. “Please, he’s now underboss of the Outfit. The second most powerful man in Chicago. Before that he loved flashing his power. He had the money under his control before my grandmother was in the ground. Apparently he used the money already on that stupid huge house. It’s pathetic when it’s really just about trying to one-up Tony Sabatini. Something he knows deep down he can never do, bigger house or not. Tony Sabatini is not just a better capo than Carlo, he’s a better man, period. He’ll use and depend on Dominic while he resents Dominic is Tony’s son.”

“You know Tony and Dominic Sabatini?” An eyebrow goes up.

I’m blushing. “I’ve met them several times. They’re the only mafia men who are nice to me and my sister. Neither of them look through us the way most men do, as if they’re afraid by giving me a second of attention, I’ll suddenly find myself in love with them or something.”

I shrug. “Then there were the times I have to listen to Carlo rant when he’s drunk. You remind me of Tony Sabatini—it’s how I could tell you’ve killed before and have no problem with it…and probably will again. Carlo gets off on using Tony to clean up—” Shit. This is why I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. The SUV has stopped. My door is opened by the silent driver. I undo my seat belt and slide out.

Rounding the car, I find Milos already at the front door, holding it open for me. I stop. “I appreciate the ride, but you don’t have to come in. Don’t you have the meeting with Carlo to get to?”

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