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“She’s a virgin, according to your brother,” Viktor chuckled.
Niko’s eyes narrowed into slits he tensed. “And there I was thinking she wasn’t your type.”
“She’s not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate her beauty,” I said, simply to wind him up.
“That’s right! You only like blondes, don’t you? Small, waifish things with waist-length hair and . . . wait, what color areLori’seyes?”
I stilled, anger bursting forth at my brother. He was goading me by talking about Mallory in front of Viktor. I’d walked right into that one. Thank fuck he didn’t know her real name. There was a chance Viktor hadn’t forgotten the Madison family had brought me to his door seven years ago.
“Who’s Lori? Are you seeing someone, Kirill? Cut it out now. A meaningless fuck is one thing, but you can’t have anything going on that Antonio De Sanctis will take as a slight. You know those fucking Italians. They’re old school; tradition, respect, honor, and all that. I set up this match to partner with a powerful family, not offend them. We need the respectability of the De Sanctis mafia to move forward in this city.”
“No, we don’t. If you’d stop looking at how things used to be done and focus on the future, you’d see we have everything we need. Times have changed. Politicians no longer respond to a horse’s head in the bed.” I tossed back my drink, trying not to let Niko see how much he’d pissed me off. As it stood, he hadn’t given much away yet, but he could.
“No one needs a horse’s head in a bed,” Viktor said. “It’s about style and might. De Sanctis is good at that, and the alliance will help us prosper.”
“What happened to you retiring soon?” I asked idly.
Niko tensed beside me. It was the most important question for both of us.
“I’ll retire when I’m confident I’m leaving the bratva in two capable hands,” Viktor said with a cold smirk.
Viktor lived to pitch us against each other, and as time passed, the competition only increased, growing bloodier and more barbaric with each passing year.
One thing was clear—Viktor was set on this marriage. It was a further test of my loyalty and one I would fail. The walls of the bloodstained cell I lived in were closing in, and I had no idea how to break out.
* * *
That night,Molly was waiting for me in the kitchen when I came home.
I paused as I rolled up my sleeves, catching sight of her bending over the hot stove. Despite the late hour, my willing little captive had waited up for me.
“What are you doing?”
“Making you dinner,” she said primly, rounding the table. She was wearing a satin slip with a gauzy robe over it.
My eyes immediately zeroed in on her and my fatigue lessened.“Didn’t Olga come by?” Why had she waited up for me? Had she missed me? My little Princess was difficult to read at times.
“Of course she did, seeing as it doesn’t smell like burned toast in here.”
“Well, from now on, she’ll see that you eat more than burned toast.”
Employing Olga had more to do with keeping an eye on Molly, or so I told myself. After tonight, it was hard to keep the truth from ringing in my head like a bell. I worried about Mallory’s health because I loved her and always had. The idea of her hurt or sick drove me mad with worry. A headache clanged through my temples. Mallory was my weakness, and Viktor and Nikolai were going to use it against me.
“If you’re not careful, Kirill Chernov, I’m going to start thinking you care about me.” Her green eyes twinkled, and I had to fight my natural reaction to her. With an effort, I slammed on the mask of indifference that fit less with each passing day.
“There’s a thin line between love and hate, Princess, as well you know.”
She stepped forward, making me still and wary. She reached out and touched my chest, and my heart sped beneath her fingers.“I don’t think your body got the message.” Her hand slid tentatively down to where my arousal pushed at my belt.
She had never initiated things between us before, not since that first night when she’d kissed me. I commanded, and she complied. It was our system. But these last few days had muddied the lines between us. Mallory was new to intimacy and the things men and women did together in the dark. The chemistry between us was weaving a spell over her.
I couldn’t afford to have them muddied, blurred, or anything in between. I couldn’t afford to lose control because I would make a mistake and endanger us both. Tonight had been a stark reminder of that.
I caught her hand in a hard grip, stilling her. “Hate fucking is usually preferable to making love, so don’t be confused. I only do the former. Don’t romanticize what isn’t there. You’ll regret it.”
Pushing someone away who knew me like Mallory did was tough. It took a hard approach.I turned my back and started to walk away.
“But we have made love before,” she reminded me, doggedly persistent. “The first time—”
