He chuckled. “No, I’m not.” When we reached the table, Kirill dragged a chair next to an existing empty one. “Gentlemen, my wife’s joining us.”
I recognized the boss of the Cassano crime family and an Armenian arms dealer. To the right of him was a guy whose name I was certain was Vasquez. He was cartel. These men didn’t come in through the front entrance. They were sneaked in through a secret one.
“So the king brings his queen,” the Italian said. “How’s your brother and uncle, Lucy?”
“That’s Mrs. Zahkarova to you, Cassano.” Kirill’s easy tone from earlier frosted over. “Deal me back in.” And just like that, it was back to business.
The Cassano crime family’s kingdom was New Jersey. They were in a cold war with most of the New York Five Families but were allied with the Zahkarov bratva.
I wondered how my marriage to Kirill affected their partnership.
The reprieve I felt when Kirill chose me soon dwindled into annoyance. He didn’t need me for luck. He was piling chips hand over fist. The power dynamics in the room were clear. Kirill ruled, which was exactly what Edwin told me earlier.
That when Kirill was in the room, everyone pandered to him. A few might be out of fear, but most recognized the power shift in the bratva, and they’d rather not sit across a table with him and piss him off, preferring to be in his presence and ride the coattails of that power.
I didn’t need seven hours of sitting by his side to see that.
I grudgingly admired him, but that didn’t lessen my annoyance. While he was playing cards, he kept his hand on my thigh. It was like he was reminding me of the night of our engagement when he almost made me come with so little effort. Carnal magnetism emanated from his pores the way he handled himself with the lazy grace and confidence of a jungle cat.
I’d thrown up mental barriers, so I’d remain unaffected—but not when he chose to exercise seduction.
I couldn’t move away. Every time I tried to remove my thigh from his grasp, he’d only clamp my leg tighter and then move his hand higher. He must feel the heat of my pussy because at the moment, I could feel how slippery I was. He’d tease. Stroke my thigh, brushing his fingers just close enough to my center before he backed off. My whole body was on fire while he coolly played poker.
Bastard.
That was how he’d kept me awake. The mental and physical mind games.
Still, when the clock struck four a.m., I couldn’t keep my yawn in.
His voice rumbled in my ear. “Ready to go, Lusenka?”
“Oh God, yes,” I muttered.
Laughter went around the table. “Good, take him home so some of us can recoup our losses,” Vasquez said.
When Kirill and I stood from the table, he kept his hand on the small of my back. And despite my grogginess, his brand of possessiveness didn’t escape me.
The poker game was on the penthouse level, and I tried to walk straight on the way to the elevator. Kirill and I didn’t exchange a word after leaving the poker room. I did wave at Edwin, who waved back.
“He’s married,” Kirill said.
“I know, and he has a six-month-old baby.”
We entered the elevator, and I leaned against its reflective walls trying to fight another yawn.
“Just how chatty were you with the staff?”
I angled my eyes mischievously at him. “Chatty enough to know who is whom in that room and why they’ve been invited. Don’t worry, Edwin knows just how much gossip he can share. I fill in the blanks.”
Kirill drew me against his chest, filling me with his warmth and cloaking me with the remnants of his cologne. Despite the smoke in the poker game, he didn’t reek but exuded a scent that was heady and masculine. He rasped in my ear, “Like?
If this were an interrogation, I was doomed. I was so tired and I didn’t care if he was holding me up because I was limp in his arms. “Mr. Bryant might need your help with Ahmed. There’s something to look into there.”
“Hmm, what else?”
“You have something on Vasquez, don’t you? He folds every time you raise.”
Kirill chuckled. “Can’t get anything past you. If only they knew how sharp your mind is.”
