My heart is still jumping in my chest from that as he clicks on a subfolder to reveal a list of thumbnail photos.
“These were taken by a spy of mine embedded in the Minsky Bratva, out of Moscow.” His eyes dart to mine. “I assume you know them?”
I do.
The Minsky Bratva, led by Grigori Minksy, is aseriouslypowerful family in Moscow and St. Petersburg.
“So… What are these?”
Vaughn says nothing as he turns and double clicks, opening the series of photos. My eyes widen at the very first image that pops up on the screen.
It’s my father, looking drunk, laughing with a glass of vodka in his hand. He’s in a tailored suit, sitting at a lavish restauranttable with a glamorous woman in his lap, and he’s toasting the grinning man sitting next to him, the two of them appearing to be best buddies.
The other man is Grigori Minksy.
“Turns out,” Vaughn says quietly, “that your fatherdidn’tend up in Moscow with nothing of value. He’s just cut a massive deal with Grigori: he’s told the Minsky Bratva aboutallhis old Russian connections, smuggling routes, and intel. In exchange, Grigori’s made him a partner and topavtoritetin the Minsky Bratva.”
My jaw drops.
“Your father is untouchable now,” Vaughn growls. “Protected, vouched for, completely taken care of.” He exhales slowly, turning to me. “You don’t have to do this, Evelina,” he says. “You don’t need me or the Syndicate’s help anymore.”
I sit there in silence, my heart twisting.
Ijusttalked to him a few weeks ago.
“How…” I frown. “How long would something like this take to set up?”
Vaughn frowns. “WithMinsky? Guy's a paranoid lunatic. Months, I’m betting.”
Months.
My fatherwas already setting this upwhen I told him I was putting myself in danger and going against the entire family to give him help he no longer needed.
Fuck.
“If Ididjoin anyway,” I say, “what exactly would be my role in the Syndicate?”
His eyes spark wickedly. “Do you mean other than being my personal fuck toy and cum slut?”
Heat explodes across my face.
“Asidefrom that,” I murmur, blushing furiously and then gasping when his hand tightens on my hip. “I mean, for real.”
He nods slowly. “The only limit within the Syndicate is ambition. I mean, yes, personal relationships matter—it’s no accident that my closest friends are my inner circle. But they’re also the only people I’d trustinthat capacity.” He peers at me closely. “What would you want out of the Syndicate?”
I scoff. “Head assassin, obviously.”
He grins. “You do have a mean streak.”
“I don’t know…” I shrug. “I feel like I’m kind of good at reading people?—”
“Kind of?” He smiles at me. “You’re a genius at it.”
I wink at him. “You’re just saying that because I’m topless.”
He shakes his head. “I’msayingthat because you’ve got a gift for seeing the unseen and reading between the lines.” His brow furrows. “The Syndicate isn’t like other mafia organizations, where whose kid you are or your birth order is important. We value skill, ambition, and commitment, and we want people who have the aptitude and drive to lead.”
Vaughn’s hand lifts to my chin. “Is that what you want to do, princess? Lead?”
