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She gestures to Yasha. “Then explainhim.”
Yasha wags his fingers at her from under his own chin. “I defy explanation.”
“He is my second-in-command. He works for me.”
“Well, I don’t have a staff,” she whines. “Everyone here works for you.”
“Which you agreed to.”
“I agreed to be the Bratva wife. So let me be one. I want to meet some other women who can relate to what I’m going through.”
“Good luck with that,” Yasha guffaws. “I don’t know of any other Bratva wives that abducted their predecessor and held them ransom so their new husband wouldn’t murder them the first chance he got.”
If looks could kill, Yasha would be a smoldering hole in the carpet by now.
“No, I suppose not.” Her gaze flicks back to me. “Maybe that’s why you seem unfamiliar with the concept thatCora’s life is in my hands. You’ve never seen or experienced this kind of thing before. If you don’t cooperate with our deal as it was laid out, then I can make sure she suffers… or worse.”
I positioned myself between Yasha and Francia to keep the peace, but it is Yasha’s hand fisted in the back of my shirt that acts as the only thing keeping me from throwing myself at Francia. My chest rises and falls in ragged gasps. I blink away the hatred blinding me and try to think clearly.
She’s right. With Cora in her control, she has me by the balls.
I have to be more careful.
“I am cooperating with our deal,” I tell her icily. “I’m saving you embarrassment.”
“You think I wouldembarrassyou?” she practically shrieks.
“Thepakhan’swife wouldn’t be caught dead fraternizing with ‘lessers’ in the family,” I lie. “I’m not going to introduce you to them—because you are above them. It would make you look weak. Is that what you want?”
Francia studies my face, searching for signs of my deception. She must not find any because she shakes her head. “No, I don’t.”
“I didn’t think so. Now if you’ll excuse us,” I purposefully sidestep her and move into the entryway, “we have things to take care of.”
Get away. Get away now. Before you strangle this fucking bitch and throw Cora’s life in the balance.
Suddenly, her hand wraps around my bicep. On instinct, I jerk my arm away. Francia frowns, but recovers quickly. “I am tired of being cooped up. Maybe I could come with you.”
“No!” This time, it’s Yasha with the outburst.
We both turn to him and he swallows. “I—I’m in charge of security and it wouldn’t be safe to bring you along.”
“Are you doing something dangerous? If so, I deserve to know what it is. I live in this house, too. If my fiancé is going to get hurt, then I—”
“Every day is dangerous for Ivan,” Yasha says. “It’s even more dangerous for his… his woman.”
He stumbles over the descriptor the same way I do. It’s just plain fucking wrong. Francia is not my woman.
“You are safe when you’re here. I can keep a closer eye on you and make sure nothing happens to you. It’s—It’s my duty to protect you.” He bows his head slightly. “Even if I don’t want to.”
Francia’s mouth twitches at the last little barb, but it actually serves to make the rest of Yasha’s message seem genuine. Despite his own feelings about her, he feels it is his duty to protect her. How noble. It’s his loyalty in action.
It’s also utter bullshit. But based on the sparkle of surprise in Francia’s eyes, she doesn’t know that.
She sighs. “Okay. Then I suppose I’ll stay here.”
I nod and move towards the door, but Francia reaches out one last time. Her hand swipes over my shoulder. “Be careful.”
I don’t bother to respond.
