"It means I've seen the way you look at her. The way you watch her, hover over her, touch her." He shakes his head. "You've gotten attached, and now you're willing to throw everything away to protect her."
"I'm willing to do whatever it takes," I say, still feeling defensive, but I straighten my jacket and run a hand through my hair.
"Even if it puts this family at risk?" Dimitri glares at me with hardened eyes. What would he know? Forty years old and never had a woman in his bed who could stand to be around him. He's a class-A idiot. I don't care what he thinks.
"Yes." The word comes out without hesitation. The trade routes and Kolar will line up with or without Vivika's act, but I will not be the same man I was three weeks ago if I lose her.
"Yaros has already tried to have her killed once," Yuri says. "If you keep her, he'll try again. He won't stop until she's dead or he is."
"Then I'll make sure it's him." I turn, narrowing my eyes on my uncle and ignoring the rest of the family.
"You're talking about war, Lev. Open conflict with the Veche family." Yuri's voice hardens. "Do you understand what that means?" He leans over his desk and narrows his eyes at me.
"I understand."
Yuri stands and walks around his desk, stopping directly in front of me. "Once you start down this path, there's no going back. All for a woman you've known for two weeks."
I hold his gaze without flinching. "When I see what I want, I take it. You taught me that. And I don't let anything stop me once I've decided."
He chuckles and grips my shoulder hard, almost painfully. "You really are my nephew. Stubborn as hell and twice as dangerous. Just like your father was before someone put a bullet in him."
"Does that mean you'll support me?"
"It means I won't stand in your way. But you're on your own with this. If Yaros comes for her, you handle it. I won't sacrifice this family's position to protect your obsession."
"I wouldn't ask you to."
"Good." He returns to his desk and sinks in his chair, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. "Now get out of here and go protect your woman. Before Yaros sends someone else to finish what he started."
I turn and walk out of the study past Fyodor's knowing look and Dimitri's venomous glare, through the halls and out the front door. The gravel crunches beneath my feet as I head toward my car, trying hard to keep myself in check. Knowing the bullet was a failed hit only riles me up more. I had my suspicions, which of course I kept back from Vivika, but now that they're confirmed, I know I have to step up my game.
Vivika is waiting for me, locked away and alone, probably terrified and hating me for everything I've put her through.
And I'll burn down anyone and everyone who tries to take her.
14
VIVIKA
The front door opens and closes somewhere in the house, and the sound of it pulls me off the bed where I've been lying in the dark staring at the barred window for what feels like hours. Lev's footsteps move through the rooms with a heaviness that tells me something is wrong, and I press my ear against the locked door, straining to track his progress through his own home.
It's late—how late I don't know because there's no clock in this room and they took my phone days ago—but it's dark outside now. I'm starving, but I'd do a hunger strike if it got him to let me out of here. I was a fool for acting out and I regret it.
The footsteps grow louder as Lev moves down the hallway toward the door, and they stop just on the other side. Then I hear him pacing back and forth like a caged animal trying to decide what to do with its prey. He's clearly upset or something, probably trying to decide what to do with me now that I'm not compliant. It scares me, but in the same breath I feel my mind reaching toward him, wondering what could be bothering him and if I could alleviate that pressure.
It's sickening that I do this, because I should, and I have every right to, hate him. Nothing he's done to me has been healthy or good. Yet here I am, feeling compassion as I splay my palm on the cold wood and press my forehead there, shutting my eyes. I hold my breath so I can hear what he's doing more clearly.
His voice rumbles on the other side of the door, and it takes me a moment to realize he's on the phone. The words are a dirty mix of Ukrainian and Russian, switching between languages mid-sentence, and I press closer until my cheek is flat against the cold wood and my ear lies flush with it.
"…shipment delayed at the border… fucking Veche routes still blocked… can't get anything into Romania until we resolve this situation…"
My heart sinks as I start to put together the facts. He's talking about a weapons shipment being delayed down the trade routes he promised me were being secured by my act. I've been duped into helping them smuggle weapons and I played right into his hands so easily. And this time, I want to be angry, but all I can feel is broken and sad.
He lied to me.
There are no trafficked women being saved because of my sacrifice—there never were any women at all. It was just a story designed to make me cooperate. I have always been a tool in his arsenal, and to know that the sex between us meant nothing is devastating. He could just throw me away and that would be that.
When he stops talking, he sighs heavily, and I assume the call is over. I think about banging on the door and begging him to let me out, but that might trigger volatile emotions in both of us andthe last thing I want is to end up screaming and crying again. I hate it. It's not in my nature to do that. But this room is dark and cold, and I want to go out there and eat. I don't want to be alone.
