“I hear you.” I keep my voice calm, my tone firm, controlled. “I do. Me keeping her was never a question. As long as I’m alive, she stays with me. I found her. I’m keeping her.” My gaze hardens. “I’ll deal with anyone who makes it a problem.”
Wandering eyes. Comments about her not being Russian. Not white. I’ll shut it down. The first one who tries it, will never forget their mistake.
Lev clears his throat and steps toward Nala, stopping in front of her, not too close. In English, he says, “I’ll have your papers ready, Roman’s girl. Let’s hope you won’t need them.”
“Thank you.” She gives him a shy smile, adding softly, “Spasíbo.”
Lev smiles back, nodding, before heading for the door.
I give her a quick kiss, letting her know I’ll be back after I drop Lev off and check in on business.
Lev settles into the passenger seat. “She knows Volchya business?”
“Some of it.”
He lets out a low breath. “She’s in love with you. It’s obvious.” He snorts, staring out the window. “How the fuck did you manage that? How does a girl go from being locked up by your father to looking at you like that? Let me guess, she thinks you’re the good guy because you found her?”
“She doesn’t. Nala knows how I am.”
“But she loves you. And you keep her secrets.”
I say nothing. I don’t need to. Lev knows I’ve drawn a line. What’s between me and my girl stays between us. Bratva is who I am, but Nala is my life. Her secret dies with me.
After I drop Lev at his car, I head to the warehouse, ready to give the go-ahead on a shipment of old Soviet ammunition,worth just under a million euros. Once it leaves this place, it’s out of my mind. I don’t care where it’s headed or what it’s used for.
Anton and Vasili are moving crates near the loading dock when I arrive. Anton looks up, his mouth already moving like he’s about to start running it again.
“Don’t,” I tell him, shaking my head. “Yes or no. Is everything on schedule?”
“Yes. We’re almost finished with?—”
The door swings open behind me.
There’s a sharp intake of breath. Someone pushing in a chair so fast, it topples and hits the floor.
Fuck.
Like a goddamn plague.
The Pakhan walks in, his mercenary bodyguards stomping behind him. I can’t remember the last time he bothered checking on shipments. All he’s ever cared about is his cut.
Anton straightens, trying to look serious. “Pakhan, sir. We weren’t expecting you.”
“Who the fuck are you,” he snaps, “and why would I tell you I’m coming?” He waves him off like a dog. “Get back to work.”
Anton runs off while Andre and Vasili don’t even bother looking up. They’re smart enough to stay invisible.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d see you here,” he says, already glaring at me. “I know how spread thin you are these days.”
“No more than usual.”
He opens a crate, sifting through it. “You’ve been getting a lot of deals through that broker in Belgium.”
“It’s been steady.”
“Of course it has.” He slaps my shoulder. “My son. Always calm. Never breaking a sweat while being my best brigadier.Roman…bringing in almost twice what the others do. You really are something.”
I don’t flinch, don’t show a reaction to his hand on my shoulder. I stay quiet, waiting for the drop that’s coming after his fake compliments.
