Page 21 of Ruined By Sin

Part of me knows I can use this—whatever is happening between us—the chemistry that showed up uninvited and won't leave. It's leverage. If she cares about me, she won't run to her uncle with a story that destroys my family. She'll protect me the same way I've been protecting her, and the whole problem solves itself without anyone getting hurt. It's so perfect I couldn't plan it or think it up on my own.

And it's so crafty and manipulative, I'd never have done it. Not even if Roman had ordered me to do so.

It's not why I'm lying here holding her.

Her chest rises and falls in a deep, regulating breath, and I watch her eyes flick back and forth beneath her eyelids. Studying her has become my favorite thing in the world to do over the past week, and I'm finding myself thinking of her even when I'm not around her. She's wormed her way into my mind and my heart, and I've started seeing things outside this home that remind me of her.

I like her. A lot.

Women like Kirianna Belova don’t come along very often. Everything about her screams power and class. She's not the floozie type who throws herself at me, nor is she whiney and overdramatic. Her art was sensational and her mind is brilliant. And I don’t know why but I hang off every word that comes out of her mouth, especially when she's praising me for how good I make her feel.

I don't know how to process it, but I'm falling for her and fast.

I slip out of bed carefully, pulling my arm from under her without waking her. She shifts and murmurs something in her sleep, then settles back into the pillow. I pull the blanket up over her shoulder and stand there for a moment, wishing I didn’t have to go out today, because I'd really much rather stay here and explore whatever this is. But I have to leave.

Still, I know this thing between us is dangerous. Every rational part of my brain is telling me to stop letting whatever this is cloud my judgment. But I've been rational my entire life—the careful one, the quiet one, the brother who sits behind a screen and makes sure everything runs cleanly.

None of that ever got me what I want in life. I'll spend every day I have left typing away and staring at security monitors, forgetting that life is out there and that adventure awaits and miss every opportunity to find someone who's right for me. And this woman who drinks vodka like it's water and sings at the top of her lungs at two in the morning when she's wasted may just be the thing I’ve been needing to wake me up to how short life really is.

In order to not wake her, I collect my clothing and get dressed in the hallway. Dryden's at his post outside my door. He straightens up when he sees me, but I hold up a hand before he can say anything, and he averts his eyes as I tug on my clothes.

"She's asleep..." I tell him, fumbling with the buttons on my shirt. My head is still spinning from too much to drink. "When she wakes up, make sure she's comfortable. Breakfast, coffee, whatever she wants. But she stays in the house."

"Understood, Boss." Dry is a quiet man, but he respects me and he does what I ask him. After losing so many good soldiers last year, I value his presence more than he knows.

"And be decent to her," I continue. His eyebrows rise as he smirks at me, like he's reading my mind. Yes, she's in my bed, and yes, I walked out of my room naked. He can put two-and-two together as well as anyone else.

"Anything else, Boss?" he asks through a grin.

I chuckle and shake my head at his immaturity, and it feels good to be the one being picked on about a woman for a change. "Yeah, she'll have a hangover. Get Sonya to make her something salty and take care of her." I narrow my eyes playfully. "And don't get any ideas... She's mine." I punch a finger into his chest and he swipes it away with another grin.

Kazimir is already at the café when I walk in, wedged into a corner booth with a plate of eggs in front of him and his phone propped against the salt shaker playing a video. When I slide in across from him, he turns the phone toward me and I see a baby in a diaper holding onto the edge of a coffee table, taking two wobbly steps before sitting down hard on her backside.

"She's walking," he says, grinning so widely, it changes his whole face. Watching my nephew become a father before me was a gut punch, but I'm proud of him. After the rough shit he pulled in his teenage years, he's really grown up.

"She's falling," I say, snickering as he plays it again. That little girl is so spoiled, she has no clue. Kaz is gonna have a nightmare on his hands by the time she's thirteen. Hopefully by then, he's grown up a little more too.

"Ah, you know... Kids fall before they walk." He takes the phone back and watches the video one more time before putting it away. "Zora recorded it this morning. I think I've watched it thirty times."

"How's Zora handling it?" The waitress across the room holds up a pot of coffee, eyes wide and brows high, and I raise my finger at her, beckoning a cup. Then I turn back to him.

"She cried. Then she baby-proofed every piece of furniture in the house in about forty-five minutes. I came home and there was foam on everything." He shakes his head and takes a bite of his eggs. "I love that woman but she's going to wrap our kid in bubble wrap. She's too soft for this world."

"Ah, but isn't softness what little Kaz needed?" I lift my eyebrows as he rolls his eyes at me and shovels more food in.

When the waitress arrives with my cup of coffee, I order something to eat, and we spend a few minutes going over logistics for the fights this weekend. We've got three bouts on the card and attendance is looking decent, though not what it used to be. Kazimir runs through the matchups and I take mental notes on a few things I need to check from the tech side. Security protocols, camera placements, the usual.

When the food arrives, I eat half of it before I push the plate aside and finally start to get real with him. I need someone's input before I let this cat out of the bag and Roman finds out who is lying in my bed.

"I need to tell you something and I need you to keep it between us." I'm apprehensive that this is the right move, but with Stepan out of town, I have no one else to ask. Kaz may be a little violent and really impulsive, but he's loyal to a fault. He'd take a bullet from Roman for me, and he'd apologize to Roman while doing it.

Kazimir sets his fork down. He reads the shift in my tone immediately and his posture changes, the grin gone, his eyesfocused. "Alright." He wipes his mouth with his napkin while I gather my thoughts.

"The woman from the Mirov raid. The one Morin brought in." Apprehension rankles my peace, but if I don't talk about this it’s gonna eat me alive. Now that I know who she is, it'll be easier to deal with, but it won't make telling my brother easier. I'm walking a fine line between protecting Morin and nuking my relationship with my brother, the Pakhan.

"Yeah. What about her?" Kaz pushes his plate back and sits straighter, sipping his coffee.

"She's not a Mirov." I let that sit for a second and watch his face for any hint that he might not like what I'm about to say. "She's a Belova. Kira Belova. Sergei's niece."