Page 49 of Bratva and Betrayal: Kirill

Violet looks up at me immediately. “What’s happening, Daddy?”

I cup her cheek, forcing my voice to be calm and reassuring. “Someone has come to see me. Someone I wasn’t expecting. Nadia will bring your snack to your bedroom.”

That earns me a small frown. “She doesn’t pick the good snacks.”

I huff a short laugh, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Sometimes we must eat the bad snacks. Now, go with Leo.”

She hesitates for half a second, but then nods. “Okay, Daddy.”

Violet climbs out when the door opens. Taking Leo’s hand, she disappears into the house with my driver, escorted by the guards who’d gathered in the rear courtyard.

Drago strides from the door to my business office and meets me by the car.

My fury about to go nuclear, I utter, “A warning that the Greek Mafia was at my doorstep would have been nice.”

“They just pulled up, Pakhan. I had to verify the plates.”

“Follow me.” Head held high and a hand in my coat around a 9mm, I strut down the driveway to the street.

I straighten as the door to the guarded SUV opens.

Ares Zervas steps out first, composed as always, his presence a controlled violence wrapped in an expensive suit. Then he turns and helps his wife from the SUV. Lourdes sees me and lunges toward me with a fractured expression, dangerously close to panic. My men close in immediately, weapons drawn, the air tightening with tension.

“Where is she?” Lourdes demands, her voice breaking as she struggles against the arms trying to restrain her. “Where is my sister?”

“Remove your hands from my wife if you want to keep them,” Ares barks and restrains her himself.

It’s like he had no idea she’d lunge for me.

“Let her go,” I snap at my men. “But we are not doing this outside. Get these SUVs off my street.”

Ares’s eyes narrow, adjusting to my apparent rage. This is my city, and he knows I deserve respect. After a beat, he nods and motions for his men to leave.

“We need answers, Volkov.”

“You shall get what I am willing to give you, Zervas.” I spin around and give him my back, so he must follow me.

He guides his wife up my driveway, past the tall gate, an arm firmly around her waist. It takes effort to contain Lourdes from scratching my eyes out.

Drago opens the door to the visitor’s corridor.

“My office is on the left,” I say and motion for Drago to take up the rear so Lourdes doesn’t break away from her husband and start screaming for Sandrine.

It’s a quiet march down the hall, and when we reach my office, I point to the chairs. “Sit down, please.”

After a look between Ares and Lourdes, they sit in the heavily upholstered wing chairs that face my desk.

Ksenia comes in and stands behind me. “Violet is in her room,” she whispers. “I posted an extra guard in the residential hallway.”

Nodding, I face Ares. “I don’t think you’ve met my sister, Zervas. This is Ksenia.”

She reaches out to shake his hand. “Pleased to meet the God of War.”

Face even, Ares stands. “Pleasure is mine. Drago, your wife is as beautiful as I’ve heard. This is my wife, Lourdes. Sandrine is her sister. She deserves⁠—’

“You will see her, Lourdes,” I say, holding up my hand and inwardly smirking because the Greek God hates to be interrupted. “As soon as I tell you my side of this story.”

“You think you have a story that gives you permission to take a woman under my protection?” Ares barks, waving a finger at me.