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Their rooms have been relocated to the other side of the compound. The solarium is back to its intended purpose and all of Willow’s things are in some room near the other pool, next door to her mother’s new housing arrangement.
It’s finally quiet around here.
I hate it.
I’m busy staring at a spreadsheet full of data I don’t give a shit about when Bambi bursts into my office. She’s clutching papers in one hand and white-knuckling her tablet in the other.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
She slaps the papers down on my desk. “My notice. I’ll have my things out by the end of the month.”
“Whoa.” I close my laptop and hold a placating hand up. “Hold on. Bam, sit down and talk to me.” I gesture to the chair she’d shoved aside when she barreled in.
“Oh, you want totalk?Now?” She folds her arms and glares at me, but at least she does sit down. “Sure, let’s talk. Let’s talk about the little girl who hasn’t stopped crying since she got home and had herwhole fucking bedroomuprooted and shoved into some tiny closet clear the fuck across the compound.”
I stare at a fleck in the enamel on top of my desk. “Things have changed.”
“Mhm. Like what?” Bambi is quivering with anger. “What could have possibly changed so much that you’re officially the world’s biggest asshole?”
“Careful, Bam. You’re dangerously close to insubordination.”
She widens her sharkish smile. “Oh, I’m far, far beyond that. But there’s nothing you can do about it because I fucking quit.” She lifts the papers to remind me and slaps them down on top of my closed laptop.
“You can’t quit. I need you.”
Her brows shoot up and she barks out a laugh. “Me? Nah, you don’t need me. Lawyers are a dime a dozen and believe me, you pay well enough to have your pick of the litter. Who youneedis currently hiding those ugly fucking bruises around her neck that I swear to God, Demyen, better be from rough sex or I will make sure theyneversolve your cold case.”
Well… shit. I’ve seen Bambi fired up, but…fuck.
And Clara’s got bruises around her neck?
I close my eyes and urge the bile to go back down my throat. “Is that a threat, Ms. Watkins?”
I hate talking to her like this. But I have to maintain order or this whole Bratva will go to shit. Especially if word gets out that the lawyer in stilettos has my balls tucked neatly in her briefcase next to her depositions.
“Of course not, Mr. Zakrevsky.” She stands and extends her hand to me. I’m hesitant to take it, but I do. She gives me a little shake and uses her best “lawyer voice” when she hisses, “It’s a fucking promise.”
Then the whirlwind that is Bambi Watkins leaves my office the same way she entered, pissed and ready for war.
I just never thought she’d declare war againstme.
I carefully skim through her resignation papers. Then I stack them neatly together, make sure everything is in order, and rip them into tiny little pieces until my desk is covered in confetti.
Bambi’s not just my lawyer. She’s family. She’s practically a sister to me.
Which is probably why she knows I won’t put a hit out on her even though she just threatened me, thepakhan.
The door opens again. What is this, Office Hours?
Pavel walks in, his own expression grim. At least he’s significantly calmer than his colleague. Not that I’m loving the way he’s glaring at me as he slowly sits down in the chair facing my desk.
“We need to talk.”
“We’re not even fucking and I’m getting the breakup speech?”
He manages a tiny smirk, but sighs and gets right to business. “You’re about to lose the Bratva.”
I freeze. I know I didn’t just hear what I think I just heard. “Excuse me?”
