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“I wouldn’t do that,” I said quickly.

“You want her, I can tell.”

I didn’t say anything. That was more than obvious. ‘Want’ was a massive understatement.

“You have not claimed her,” he observed and I flinched.

“If she wants me, we will cross that bridge when we come to it,” I said. “If not, I will protect her to the end of my days.”

Ice blue eyes considered me, then changed. I saw a hint of acceptance. A smile start to crinkle the edges of this cold blue eyes.

“You are doomed. It is good. It is very funny,” Andrei said, suddenly far more amicable.

He turned to his brothers and make a whipping sound effect and motion. They all laughed. I sensed that they relaxed slightly.

“Kroshka has him tied up in knots,” Alexei chortled and climbed into the limo. A town car followed at a discrete distance. I sighed.

“Kroshka?” I asked the beauty waiting patiently by the rented SUV.

“Another nickname. It means little biscuit.”

“Biscuit?”

“Crumb. Of something tasty.”

My eyebrows went right up to my hairline. The nickname suited her but not in the way it had as a child. I wisely chose to say nothing.

I opened the passenger door for her and waited for her to get in. My eyes skimmed her curves. I couldn’t help it. But I didn’t leer. I couldn’t ever leer at her. She was a fine wine, not a cheap beer.

Hell, she was the fanciest, tastiest, finest wine in the whole damned world.

And she was mine. I knew it. I had her in my clutches. Her cousins had come close to giving their approval. I knew they wouldn’t kill me.

Not yet anyway.

Not unless I fucked up.

And I would never, ever fuck things up with Anastasia.

“I think this might actually work,” she said, giving me a quick glance. “I don’t think they want to drag me back.”

I reached over and squeezed her hand, the other hand on the steering wheel.

“So, what do you want to do with the rest of your life, Kroshka?”

She let out a startled laugh.

“We don’t know if they will accept my offer.”

“I know.”

“They could still try to kill you.”

“I know.”

“But if they don’t… maybe… I could go to college?”

I exhaled sharply. What an ordinary dream. The hope in her voice was nearly my undoing.

“Do you want kids,” I asked gruffly. “Marriage? All that kind of stuff?”

“Stuff?” She asked.

“You know. White picket fences.”

“Oh,” she said thoughtfully. I glanced over and she was chewing her lip. A moment later her soft answer made my heart sing. “Yes, I think I do…”

“Never thought about it?”

“Sometimes but only in an abstract way. I always wanted kids. But not if they had to grow up with… all of this,” she said, waving her hand towards her cousins limousine as we pulled up and parked. Armed bodyguards stood everywhere, their heads turning this way and that.

“I get it.”

“Not that my cousins are bad people. Not truly. They have a sense of right or wrong, if that makes sense?” I nodded and she continued. “Not everyone is all one way or the other. But my father and their father… the older generation… they frighten me.”

“Sometimes being scared is the smart thing to be. It doesn’t mean you aren’t brave.”

“I know,” she said with a shaky smile.

“Ready?”

“I am,” she said and I got out, opening the passenger door for her. I walked behind her, my eyes peeled. I knew my guys were surrounding the diner, as well as having a couple of them inside. Most of them had military training, and all of them had passed Cain’s rigorous training, which was even harder. We were covered.

But somehow, I was still fucking nervous.

I pushed the feeling down. The Aslanov brothers might be sharks. I couldn’t let them smell blood in the water.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Anastasia

“You can’t just take her,” Alexei growled halfway through the meeting.

“Not unless we cut off your balls first,” Anton joked. I shook my head before realizing that none of them were laughing.

“Don’t be disgusting,” I said, excusing myself. One of Vice’s guys followed me to the bathroom, checked inside, then waited outside while I washed my hands and stared in the mirror.

I wasn’t afraid to leave Vice alone with my cousins. I was afraid of what would happen next. They had agreed to help us, to help me, leave the family. But did they mean it? I trusted them to protect me, but this was an unprecedented situation.

They were scrupulously honest, to a fault, but I was family. I had no idea what lengths they would go to protect me, or drag me back to please my father and uncle, not that I really believed that would motivate them.

When I came back, they seemed to have reached some sort of agreement. I frowned. I hadn’t been gone long. I had no idea what plan they had hatched up. It concerned me.

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