My thumb brushes her jaw then, just once, before I force my hand to drop.
I lean in. These words are only for her. The rest of the world narrows, and it’s just this woman and I standing here – this woman that I can never have.
“No one touches you,” I growl quietly. “Ever. And if they do, I will break them.”
Chapter 4
Alyona
The alley emptied out so abruptly that I’m hyper-aware of everything else. The brick at my back, the weight of Kazimir’s jacket still draped over my shoulders, the way my pulse refuses to slow down even though the danger has passed.
Or has it?
The leader of the Savannah Bratva is looking at me like he wants to devour me. It sparks something dark and hot in me, a curiosity that makes me want to reach out and touch him just to see what would happen.
My skin hums from his touch. He stands before me, close enough that I can smell his warm, decadent scent – like leather and spice, almond and something darkly floral. As always, Kazimir Baranov stands in this space like he owns it.
Maybe he does…
The idea is unsettling, irritating, and I cross my arms over my chest as if that can distance me from him. But I’m starting to realize I might never get away. Not after what he just did to a man who barely touched me.
“Well,” I say, forcing my voice to steady and trying to hide my annoyance, “I guess I should thank my dad for sending his guard dog.”
His eyes flick to my face, unreadable and sharp. “Your father didn’t send me.”
I blink, caught off guard by how quickly he answers. And the guilt that flashes across his strong features. “That’s what this is, right?” I ask, suddenly unsure. “Liev worrying and being overbearing.”
Something shifts in Kazimir Baranov’s expression; it’s subtle, but unmistakable. “Do you know,” he asks, voice cold and flat, “what I do?”
For a moment, I hesitate. Because the truth is, from the second I set foot on U.S. soil, I’ve been trying to ignore the fact that my father is aVor v zakone,a respected member of the Bratva. And Kazimir is hisPakhan.
When I nod, the corner of Kazimir’s lips quirks up. “Then you understand that I don’t take orders from anyone. Not even your father.”
The words land heavy. There’s something off about them. Because even though he answered my question, it was indirect; using his power to distract me.
“He knows you’re here tonight, right?”
His gaze drops, just for a second, to the line of my mouth. When it comes back there’s something that wasn’t there before. Something dangerous and intent.
“He believes I’m elsewhere.”
The alley seems to tilt.Elsewhere.
Not busy, not on his way, nothandlingsomething. Elsewhere – which makes it sound like Kazimir Baranov might not want my father to know that for the past seven months, he’s been lurking in the shadows of The Foundry.
Watching me.
“How long?” I ask before I can stop myself.
His brows furrow, beard hiding his frown. “How long what?”
“How long has he believed that?” My heart is pounding now, and I hate that I’m as curious as I am scared.
He doesn’t answer, and somehow that feels louder than any confession he could make. My annoyance sharpens, burning away some of the nervous energy buzzing under my skin. “So what,” I ask, “you show up here to make sure daddy’s little girl isn’t doing anythingtoodirty? Is this entertainment or reassurance?”
Kazimir reaches out and Ialmostflinch away. After watching what he did to the tech mogul, it’s hard not to. His hand wraps around my throat, calmly, loosely. He squeezes and my thighs squeeze in response, cheeks burning with the realization that I like this. His thumb on my pulse slows things down; my mouth drops open, fuzziness filling my head.
He leans in and whispers, “It’s restraint.”
