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The look in her eyes is downrightferalas she grabs me by the belt with one hand and the tie with the other. My pants hit the floor as she yanks my mouth down to hers. And when my swollen cock sinks into her, the rest of the world disappears.
Yeah, dinner can fucking wait.
24
GAVAN
“Sir?”
I frown. I’ve just gotten off a long, tortuous call with Yuri, Viktor, Konstantin—and Anatoli Sevgeny, who is currently helming the Kalishnik Bratva given that Marko remains in a coma. We were discussing the ongoing Council issues with Abram and his continued push for power wrapped in the guise of fear of Drazen Krylov.
And honestly, even though we’re all on the same “side” regarding giving in to Abram’s hysteria, we’re becoming divided on where we stand on the idea that it’s actually Drazen behind all the attacks.
Viktor, who’s fine after the explosion in his hotel suite here in New York, doesn’t seem to believe it.
“I havemanyenemies,” he made it clear on our call. “Not just from being at the helm of the Kashenko Bratva, but also through our non-profit organization,” he added, referencing the Free Them Foundation that he and his wife Fiona run, which liberates children around the world from human trafficking.
Fiona’s contribution to the operations is liaising with local governments and lobbying Congress. Viktor’s is actively hunting down the inhuman trash who trafficked the kids in the first place, and eliminating them with extreme prejudice.
Word is, he and his men have a fondness for wood-chippers when it comes to erasing child-abusing pieces of shit from the face of the earth. I see absolutely nothing wrong with this.
But, long story short, he’s made some serious enemies.
Anatoli, in contrast to Viktor, seems the most worried about Drazen being a real person. Which makes sense considering his boss and good friend Marko nearly got blown to pieces. But as Yuri pointed out, we don’t even know what Drazenlookslike, never mind his handwriting. Which sort of negates the “signed calling card” left at the scene of the car-bombing.
Not to mention a similar card found at the scene of Viktor’s hotel explosion—the second playing card that Abram himself so dramatically slapped down on my desk, while Eilish wasunder it, which didn’t have a message written on it at all.
Itdidhave another burn circle through the head of the king of diamonds, though.
Konstantin, who I wanted to be included in the call even though he’s technically hands-off for the next year, is—surprisingly—on Anatoli’s side in believing Drazen really is a threat, and behind the attacks.
And me? I’m not sure what I think yet.
In the meantime, we’re all tightening security and actively putting teams of people out there to see if they can track Drazen down. Whether or not he’s behind these attacks will become little clearer if we can prove he actually exists.
“Mr. Tsarenko?”
I frown, focusing my attention back to the intercom. “Yes, Rachel?”
“Apologies, sir, but you have an unscheduled visitor.”
“Not today, I don’t,” I growl. The conference call and its subject matter has me riled up enough. The fact that Eilish has been buried in advisor meetings and other schoolwork for two fucking days in a row isn’t exactly improving my disposition.
“Sir, I’m afraid he’s quite insistent…”
“Please tell him Iinsistthat he get the fuck out of the building until I can schedule him in.” I pause, my mouth twisting before I exhale and rub my temples. “Rachel?”
“Sir?”
“Whoishe, anyway.”
“A Mr. Petrov. Stanislav Petrov.”
I scowl. “Who?”
“He says he’s an antiques appraiser?”
Shit.
