Page 95 of Marked By the Mob

Artur grins despite the tension. “You handled that well, sweetheart. Telling off a Bratva boss takes balls.”

“Don’t call me that.” Emma rolls her eyes. Does she even realize she’s saying it or has it just become a reflex?

Krystal moves closer to Emma, her face pale. “He’s going to come back. He won’t let this go.”

“Let him try,” I say quietly. “He’ll find out exactly what happens when he threatens what’s ours.”

Emma’s gaze finds mine and something passes between us. Understanding, maybe. Or trust. She knows we’ll protect her and Krystal, no matter what it costs.

“Come on,” Emma says to Krystal, taking her friend’s hand. “Let’s go talk.”

They head back inside, and I watch Emma’s ass and the sassy bounce to her cheeks in those fitted jeans as she walks. Fuck, I want her. I doubt there will ever be a time when I don’t want her. No matter the situation, my mind always conjures up sex when she’s around.

Rurik, Artur, and I head to the office, the tension from the confrontation still humming through my veins. The moment the door closes behind us, Rurik moves to the bar and pours three glasses of vodka. We drink in silence, letting the alcohol burn away some of the adrenaline.

“This is going to get worse before it gets better,” Artur says, dropping into one of the leather chairs. “Volkov doesn’t give up on assets he wants. And now we’ve got two women every Bratva family in the city is interested in.”

“Emma because she’s FBI,” I say, settling into the chair across from him. “Krystal because she’s been trained by Volkov and knows his operations.”

Rurik leans against the desk, his pale blue eyes thoughtful. “We need to increase security and keep both women inside the estate until we know what Volkov’s planning.”

“Emma’s not going to like being confined,” I point out.

“Emma almost got shot today,” Rurik says flatly. “She’ll deal with it.”

I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t argue. We spend the next hour going over security protocols, discussing contingency plans, and mapping out potential threats. The reality is stark. We’ve made enemies of powerful people by refusing to share Emma and by taking Krystal from Volkov.

And we still have the FBI mole to worry about. I’m convinced it was FBI who took a shot at her. Whoever tried to have Emma killed isn’t going to stop just because the first attempt failed. They’ll try again, and next time they might succeed.

“We need to find out who ordered that hit,” I say, refilling my glass. “If it’s Langford, we need proof. Something concrete enough that Emma can’t deny it anymore.”

Artur’s expression darkens. “She doesn’t want to believe it’s him, but she’s run out of excuses for him, too. She knows it deep in her heart, but I don’t think she’s ready to admit as much out loud.”

“Which makes the betrayal worse,” Rurik says quietly. “But we can’t protect her from the truth. She needs to know who her real enemies are.”

The conversation continues, circling through strategies and scenarios. By the time we finish, the afternoon light has faded to early evening. My shoulders ache from tension, and I’m ready for a break from this doom and gloom conversation.

“I’ll go tell the women dinner’s ready,” I say, standing.

Rurik nods, already pulling out his phone to coordinate with the security team. Artur stretches in his chair, his dark eyes tired.

I head upstairs to Krystal’s room, my boots quiet against the marble floors. The hallway is empty, the estate settling into its evening rhythm. As I approach the door, I hear voices inside. Emma and Krystal, talking quietly.

I’m about to knock when Krystal’s words stop me in my tracks.

“Emma, you need to be careful. Eduard, Artur, and Rurik are only using you.”

My hand freezes inches from the door.

“What are you talking about?” Emma’s voice is sharp, defensive.

“They bought you at an auction,” Krystal says, her tone gentle but firm. “They’re Bratva bosses. Men like that don’t fall in love. They collect assets. And right now, you’re valuable to them because of your FBI training and connections.”

“That’s not true,” Emma argues, but I hear the doubt creeping into her voice.

“Maybe they care about you in their own way,” Krystal continues. “But don’t let your heart get involved. Don’t mistake protection for love. These men are dangerous, Emma. Theykillpeople. They run criminal empires. You can’t trust them completely.”

Silence follows, heavy and painful. I stand frozen in the hallway, my chest tight and my lips pressed into a thin line. How dare Krystal try and turn Emma against us when we just saved her from servitude to Volkov.