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Kate’s involvement directly with Antonio has been proven to be false, so why is she even here? I would never allow a captive to get some of their items. The looks of confusion my men gave me pulling into her apartment complex meant they were questioning my decision. It’s a question that haunts me too.
Standing in her place while she frantically ran around the closet-sized studio prompted memories of how my father would react if he were here.
“Never show compassion that will compromise your position. Our actions are not only for monetary gain but also to send a message to our rivals. This leaves zero room for personal attachment,” my father instructs as he hands me the brass knuckles.
It was after my twelfth birthday, and I invited Dmitry to the house to play pool with Nik, Alexander, and me. Dmitry was caught stealing some of my father’s white-label cigars, and now my father has me delivering his punishment.
My hand shakes as I slip the brass over my right fingers. Dmitry is tied, hands behind his back, tears down his face. His father is one of my father’s men, and he is standing in the corner to observe. I have no doubt Dmitry’s father will also punish him for this, as it reflects poorly on their family. The Bratva prioritizes their reputation and their loyalty to the pakhan. His father’s face says it all; he is staring past Dmitry, he can’t even stand to look at him.
I don’t want to do this. He is my friend.
My father barks his command, “Begin.”
I raise my fist, Dmitry’s eyes flinch, and I strike. The first hit to the side of his head leaves a deep laceration across his cheek.
“Again,” my father seethes. My eyes dart down to my knuckles, splattered with the first of Dmitry’s blood. I pull back and land another blow to his bottom lip, instantly bruising his chin and cutting his lip.
“Again.” The word rings and blood roars in my ears as the sweat creeps down my temples. I look at Dmitry, but he can’t meet my eyes. I pull back my fist and my father snatches my hand, leaning down to deliver his final piece of advice.
“Be careful who you let into your world, Son.”
My father’sadvice bounces around in my mind, and I glance over at Kate, who is about to enter my world. Who has already shaken it today with the sound of my name coming from her lips. It was equal parts irritating and tantalizing.
Her hair is matted from her short time at the warehouse, her eyes are swollen and bloodshot, and her nose is raw from constant swatting at her tears. Her hands, which have been unbound since the stop at her apartment, sport red marks that stretch around her wrists. Even though she’s worn and defeated, there is a purity in her pain, and I yearn to own it.
I train my eyes back to the front, denying myself any further inspection. I will put her out of sight—a playing piece removed from Antonio’s board put back in the box.
We pull into my building’s parking garage, and Nik and my men get out, securing the area. Ivan opens my door, and I wait for the guards to escort Kate. Her scowl is directed at my men as they remove her from the car and push her toward the elevator. Her annoyance shifts to me; I meet it with equal disdain.
I don’t need this inconvenience, but I do need this win with the Cosa Nostra.
The elevator ride to the penthouse takes three times longer than average, and I can’t help but wonder what is going through Kate’s mind. The fact she is quiet is slightly concerning, or at least I figure it should be.
When the elevator arrives, I choke down the anxiety of opening my home to another person. I loosen the tie around my neck and fidget with my cufflinks—I’m going to have to get over this. It’s the safest place for her to be—secure, inaccessible, and inescapable.
The doors open, and I step off, turning a few paces away to watch two of my men usher Kate into the penthouse. Her face is hanging, eyes glued to the floor, but the slow rise of her head and widening of her eyes means she is taking in my world. Bought with blood, loyalty, and alliances.
Her lips are trembling as she looks around the spacious foyer, her glance flitting from left to right until it finally lands on me. I stare down at her and don’t look away as I address my men. “That will be all. Dismissed.”
The elevator disappears, and the silence left is deafening. We continue to stare at each other for a moment before I hear Ilena’s worn voice enter the foyer, filling the void and echoing off the marble floors.
“Sir, I have prepared all that you asked.” She hesitates, her eyes lingering on Kate then narrowing on me.
“Ilena, this is Kate. She will be our guest for a while,” I say, introducing her. Kate’s head snaps back to me and she raises her eyebrows.
“Funny,” she sniffs, “I don’t remember getting an invitation.”
Ilena looks at me and smirks.
Moving the two long strides between us, I invade Kate’s space, holding her stare, my fingers grazing her skin. I tilt her chin up orienting our mouths millimeters apart. Her breathing intensifies, bold eyes boring into mine.
“Be careful with this mouth,malyshka.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip, which captures my attention—such a simple action to stir desire. I straighten, placing distance between us, and tuck my hands in my pockets before they act on their own. On the outside, I’m composed, but on the inside, I’m coming undone.
This woman in my space, in my world, will not work, but I find it impossible to release her. Ilena is still standing there, and I nod her way before turning on my heels and heading to my office.
Chapter19
