Page 48 of The Bratva Betrayal

I step away from the dressing rooms, weaving past racks of designer clothes.

Benedikt’s voice comes through calm and clipped.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Work.”

“That’s interesting,” he says dryly. “Work usually involves you showing up to the house when I ask.”

“I’m dealing with family business.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end.

“What kind of family business?”

“Misha.”

He exhales slowly like he’s already annoyed before I’ve explained anything.

“What did he do now?”

“Started thinking with his dick again.”

“Ah. The Irish girl.”

I don’t answer right away, which is answer enough.

“You’re spending time around her.”

I glance back toward the fitting rooms just as Cady’s voice drifts through the hallway curtain.

“Unfortunately.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Do I need to be concerned?”

“Still digging,” I admit. “She’s probably more careful about it now, since I’ve made my suspicions known.”

“And Misha?”

“Attached.”

“You need to figure out if she’s a threat or just a distraction.” Benedikt Volkov built an empire by knowing when emotions became liabilities.

“She can be both.”

“That’s not better, Artem.”

I know where this is heading.

“If she’s a problem,” Ben continues evenly. “We handle it.”

I look back toward the fitting rooms just as Cady steps out from behind the curtain, holding another dress against herself.

Her eyes land on me, then narrow.