I ignore the pinch of pain and continue. “What is my business is that she decided to ruin my clothes, empty all my makeup and medication, and destroy anything else she could get her hands on. And she stole my panties.”
The mood of the room feels colder than the snow outside.
I don’t look at any of them, staring outside at the weather as I finish the rundown they asked for by describing waking up to an, almost, empty house and then being forced to stay by the pack of dogs who were ready to attack as soon as I stepped outside.
Crossing my arms over my chest—in defiance or because of the cold, I don’t know—I add, “I literally do not care at all what your Bratva does. In case you are not aware, this union is transactional to all parties involved. Saying that, I will not be subjected to his harem trying to intimidate me or his enemies trying to kill me because they’re too fucking gutless to go after Sergey.”
I haven’t even spoken to Kade or Santiago about any of this. I’m winging it, hoping I haven’t misread the signs of our attraction to each other.
“Where I come from, you get one chance. Everyone has had theirs. Any further slight to me, and I’ll ask my guards to act with deadly force. I feel that’s just. Don’t you?”
Turning to face Aleksei, I find his eyes bright with anger. Since I know very little about him, I don’t know if the anger is directed at me or because of the threat I made. I could assume, given the dogs and his strange show of care to date, but assumptions get people killed. Although I should keep my mouth shut because I have no idea if he’s simply going to run to Sergey and share everything I’ve said, try telling my mouth that.
“Hence, I don’t want anyone besides the four of us to be aware of my issues, that may or may not develop into a situation.”
Aleksei walks over to the bar and grabs a fresh bottle of vodka, twisting the lid to crack the seal. He turns to face us as he does so, showing it hasn’t been tampered with. I think it’s a sign he wants us to trust him, or he’s a control freak and doesn’t like the thought of people touching anything of his. Which kind of makes sense, given he has his own kitchen, food, and dogs.
In his near-perfect English, he admits, “We do have an issue. And a situation.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “What now?”
“I spoke with Sergey,” he says, but his accent gets thick, making him sound like he learned English online. It happens when he gets emotional. “The attackers were all Dmitri’s men.”
“And who is Dmitri?” Santiago asks, his dark mood hidden behind a practiced smile and the soft volume of his voice. I can smell how angry he is. So can the others.
“He was part of our inner circle until he and Sergey had a falling out. And now he is someone you need to be aware of. He is a threat because he wants revenge against Sergey.”
I sigh, unsurprised, because this is the shit that happens constantly in the criminal world. “Of course it's not just one thing we’re dealing with.”
“That is theissue, which inadvertently caused thesituation, but also Victor and Sergey have been speaking.” Aleksei nearly spits the words, which is in complete contrast to the way he usually speaks. Which gives me the heads-up that whatever he’s about to say isn’t going to be great.
He takes a massive swig of the vodka, and I try to smother my rising anxiety. The anticipation is building, much like how the atmosphere changes when a storm approaches.
When he comes nearer to me again, he hands over the bottle, and he has tucked his emotions away again.
I take a large swig, already knowing where this shit show is going and what he is going to say next.
He holds my gaze, though there’s no challenge in his eyes. There’s not much of anything, really, since he is shielding himself.
“They have agreed the wedding should happen sooner rather than later.”
Kade comes close and pretty much overpowers me to stop me drinking down the whole bottle. He stays next to me and takes a long pull of the vodka.
He coughs to clear the burn out of his throat. “When?” he asks as he passes the bottle to Santiago.
“Sergey will return by this time tomorrow. The next day, he has called skhodkas so his peers can witness.”
“What is that?”
“A formal meeting of all the Bratva elects and higher-ups. Most of his peers won’t attend—it’s too risky and volatile to have men who don’t trust each other in the same room. But there will be important people coming. He’s making it known he is married. It’s unnecessary, and I have asked him to reconsider.”
“And will he?”
He takes the bottle, taking another oversized gulp. “Nyet. On ne peredumayet.”
Aleksei doesn’t seem to realize he’s slipped back into Russian, nor does he notice the way his scent leaks with his frustration.
Handing the vodka back over, I give him a tight smile. “English, please.”
