Page 120 of Ivory Ashes

“Their scalps could make a nice wedding gift,” I muse.

“You want them dead and you want it to hurt,” Raoul summarizes. “Done and done.”

“When can you bring them to me?” I ask.

Raoul and Anatoly look at each other, silently communicating something. They’ve been working side by side for years and it shows.

Anatoly runs a nervous hand through his hair. “This kind of mission could have some blowback, brother. Especially towards Viviana. If these men found out she is involved, they could come looking for her.”

“I’d like to see them fucking try.”

“You might like to see it, but Viviana wouldn’t.” Anatoly waits for understanding to dawn.

I sigh. “You want me to get her out of here.”

“Her and Dante,” Raoul adds. “For their own safety.”

They’re right. Viviana could become a target if the men involved in her kidnapping all those years ago find out we’re going after them for revenge. Since the bastards love kidnapping children so much, Dante isn’t off the table, either.

“So I’ll send them away while I stay here and kill those men with my bare hands.”

“You’d leave Viviana and Dante in a strange new place without you, me, or Raoul with them?” Anatoly shakes his head, answering his own question.

Well, when he puts it like that…

“Fuck.” I flop back in my chair. “Fine. You two handle it. But take pictures. I want there to be plenty of evidence to show Viviana. To prove that they’re dead.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing,” Anatoly reassures me, practically rubbing his hands together in glee. “You enjoy your honeymoon; Raoul and I will handle everything else.”

“It’s not a honeymoon; it’s a distraction.”

“I bet it will be very distracting.” He hops out of his chair and heads for the door. “Oh, by the way… Nice scratch marks.”

Unfortunately, he dodges just in time to miss the stapler I hurl at his head.

43

VIVIANA

No nightmares.

It’s the first thought that pops in my head as I start to wake up.

The next is, Holy fucking shit, that feels good.

I reach between my legs and run my fingers through Mikhail’s hair. His hands are hot on my thighs, spreading me wide open so he can feast on every inch of me.

“Good morning to you,” I manage as he slips his tongue inside of me. “What a way to wake up.”

Mikhail lifts his face to smile at me, but his thumb slides in to replace his mouth. He circles my clit and my hips jerk off the mattress.

“You were already so wet.” To prove it, he plunges two fingers into me. I barely have to stretch to accommodate him. “Were you dreaming about me?”

My face flames. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The dream wasn’t concrete—no clear series of events or faces. But I felt… happy. Safe. And I knew Mikhail was there with me.

“I don’t care about dreams.” He kisses my stomach, my hip. “I prefer reality.”

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