What the hell am I doing in here?
What unnerves me more than the stares is the lack of them. No one looks at me at all. They go on with their meeting like I’m not even there. Like I’m just a piece of furniture.
And furniture doesn’t get a voice.
My face heats up in humiliation as my eyes shift to Gavriil, who listens intently as one of his men gives him a report. Strangely, it’s all in English.
“Daniil and I are working on developing a map of the Irish territories, complete with homes, businesses, and patrol routes. We’ll know exactly where to hit them, and we won’t get pinned down or outmaneuvered again.”
Again?
“I want routine updates on that, Matvei,” Gavriil replies.
Matvei nods. “I’ll get you one tomorrow.”
Gavriil gestures to a man with a shaved head on the other side of the table. “Pyotr.”
Pyotr straightens up in his seat. “We have equipped our most important buildings with updated security systems and cameras. Old locks have been replaced. Blind spots have been eliminated. They’ll be harder to hit without the attackers being caught or at least slowed down.”
Curiosity eats through my embarrassment as I soak in all of the information that Gavriil’s men feed him. I can’t paint the whole picture yet, but I do know that they’re in conflict with the Irish. If they’re improving their defenses, an attack against them must’ve already happened or they’re expecting one soon.
I stay as still as stone, not drawing any extra attention to myself so that they don’t stop talking. If I’m going to be stuck here for whatever Gavriil’s reasons are, I’m going to takeadvantage of being so close and take in all the information that I can.
Maybe I’ll hear something that can help me and Dominik.
“I want that work done faster,” Gavriil tells his men as he gets to his feet. He walks behind me. His fingers brush the back of my shoulders, deliberate and possessive, like a reminder that I’m here because he allows it. “I want to know what they’re doing and when. We can’t go in blind.”
I fight the shudder that betrays me anyway. My nails pierce my palms as I remain still, trying to focus on what he’s saying as he roams around the head of the table. What does he mean by going in blind?
“And are there any leads on the traitor under Leon’s command?” Gavriil asks, making my eyes snap to his.
“Not yet. He still won’t give us names, so either he doesn’t know who it is or is protecting them. We’re still tracking several of his men’s finances, texts, and calls,” someone answers.
So, I was right? Leon may have made a mistake but not one to intentionally hurt the Bratva.
A few more reports from other men are given, but they’re only minor updates that don’t tell me much other than equipment being replaced and men being shuffled around on different posts and patrols. What I do know is that something big has happened to cause all this sudden shake up.
I want to know more. I want to be brought back into the room.
Once everyone but Valentin is dismissed, Gavriil moves toward me again and grabs the arms of the chair, easily turning the whole thing to where I face him. “I like this on you,printsessa,” he says softly. That makes it worse.
His approval shouldn’t matter. The fact that it does terrifies me.
It makes me feel attractive. More confident.
“It’s an interesting choice,” I reply nonchalantly. I press my legs together as he leans over me, hands still resting on the chair arms.
Gavriil’s eyes sweep over my body, lingering on my thighs for a moment. It’s enough to send a wave of heat rushing over me. “Would you prefer my other choice?”
“No,” I answer too quickly, feeling my face flush.
The corner of his mouth turns up, making me wonder how he’d look with a genuine smile on his face. Would it make him even more handsome? Or would the sight be disturbing?
“You behaved,” Gavriil tells me as he lifts a hand to brush his fingers along my hair. “And you may have been right about poor Leon being the fall guy. I almost want to reward you.”
My pulse flutters at his compliment, then guilt immediately follows. I shouldn’t care what he thinks about me.
Gavriil says something to Valentin in Russian before he grabs my wrists to haul me out of the chair, back to my feet.
