“Where is Violet now?” he asked, with Maxim raising a brow at the question but thankfully staying quiet as he waited in the threshold between the kitchen and living room.
Good dog.
“I left her at my flat.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You fuck her?”
“Of course I didn’t.” The whiskey burned a little as I finished the glass. “I don’t fuck everything with legs. Plus, she’s super fucking annoying. She blurts out whatever she’s thinking, can’t sit still for five seconds, and reacts before she thinks. I swear, her brain runs faster than she does. I’m actually amazed she’s made it this far in one piece.”
“Hasn’t stopped you before.”
I went to reply, but the words caught on my tongue. Yes, she was cute in a soft, breakable way. The kind of innocence that made men stupid if they let it. I wasn’t blind to it; I felt the pull.
The temptation to imagine what it would be like topush her, to see what she’d look like when she wasn’t so innocent…
The thought lingered longer than it should have, sharp and possessive.
“Khochesh', chtoby ya izbavilsya ot nego,Knyaz’?”Maxim grunted.
“Khvatit etogo,on moy gost',”Roman snapped over his shoulder before returning to me. “You should get rid of her. She’s the only thing connecting you to the job.”
I reached over for his untouched whiskey and lifted it to my lips. “And leave her to swim with sharks? That’s a bit cold, Rome. Even for you.”
Roman’s jaw ticked as he stewed on it for a beat. “If I deal with the hit, you owe me.”
“What happened to helping out of the kindness of your heart?” I smirked over the rim of the glass. “If you don’t help, you’ll be peeling me off the floor. Then who else will listen to you bitch about your father?”
“Tebe slédúet vyrezát' emu yázyk,”Maxim muttered.
Before Roman could respond, I growled,“Da budet u tebya chlen na lbu!”
‘I hope a dick grows on your forehead,’or something like that. Seriously, Russians have the strangest insults.
“I see our lessons have been working,” Roman said dryly.
I tossed Maxim a wink, but his face stayed as blank as a statue. Which, of course meant he was secretly amused. I could tell.
“What’s up with your dad?” I asked Roman. “He give you an ultimatum?”
“He expects me to get married.” Roman pursed his lips, dragging his fingers through already-tousled brown hair.
“What the hell does having a wife have to do with being a Bratva heir?”
“Tradition,” Maxim grunted, at least in English this time. See? The guy did have a soft spot for me, even if I did dismiss his comment as being stupid.
“He thinks marriage means stability,” Roman added.
“We’re too young to get married,” I whined.
“We’re almost thirty.”
“I have too many single years left in me.”
“Again, you’re not the one he expects to get married.”
“Hendrix was a fucking badass before he tied the knot, and now look at him. Elena has him wrapped around her little finger.”
Roman sighed. “Still not relevant.”
