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Time stops for a few seconds. “How was someone able to hack into your system?” How was Sasha fucking bested by some hacker-for-hire?

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. I’m going through the data now.”

***

It’s late by the time I get back to my apartment. I was going to talk to the families of the men killed this evening, but it can wait until the morning. Sasha has already arranged for death payments to be transferred to each of their accounts.

It’s standard practice.

We look after our own.

If the men are willing to lay down their lives for my Bratva, ensuring their wives and kids are taken care of after their deaths is the least I can do. I may not have a family of my own, but I do understand the importance of family.

After all, the Bratva is a family.

Sasha and my guys are the closest thing to family I have. There’s Vanya of course, but she’s not a part of this life. Although I make sure she has a security detail surrounding her at all times, for her safety and that of her family.

My clothes stink of smoke. I strip off and drop everything into the hamper. The housekeeper will sort it all out tomorrow.

Hot water sluices down my back, washing the filth away. My eyes close and I let my mind drift, trying to come up with answers to the many questions I have.

Why would someone target the warehouse?

Hitting one of my assets is fucking stupid. There are no local crime families insane enough to do such a thing, which means it has to be a larger organization or someone from further afield.

Sasha will hopefully have some answers in the morning. Then we can put a plan into action and take down the mudaks who think they can disrupt my operations. When I find them, they will wish they’d never been born.

Eventually, the hot water does its job and some of the tension leaves my system. Then a vision of Natalya in her blue dress enters my mind. In a heartbeat, my cock is rock hard, aching for release.

I still know nothing about the woman. Where she lives, her life, even her surname. Yet our paths keep crossing. I make a mental note to ask Sasha to look into her. She was at the gala, so she had to have been on the guest list. Once I have a surname, I can find out where she works, where she lives, and get her cell number.

It’s only a matter of time before she’s mine.

For a night at least.

Although I’m not sure one night will be enough to slake my thirst.

Chapter sixteen

Nat

Amanda downs her cocktail in one. Her normally glossy brown hair is dull and her eyes are pink from how many tears she’s shed in the last hour. We’d usually conduct a relationship postmortem at one of our apartments, but she insisted she needed to be around people.

Lots of people.

Men, specifically.

Jane pushes another pink cocktail in her direction. “Here, have mine. I’m switching to water in case one of us needs to carry your fat ass home.”

I look at Jane as if to say, what the fuck are you doing, and she shrugs.

“What? Amanda knows she’s not fat. The woman spends more time in the gym than I do, and I’m there five mornings a week.”

True.

Both of them are religious fitness fanatics whereas I treat walking to the office as a high-intensity cardio workout and pizza as one of my five-a-day. It’s no wonder I have curves where they have sleek muscle.

I could blame my father’s Italian genes, but honestly, it’s mostly a lack of willpower on my part. That and a fear of embarrassing myself by falling off a treadmill.

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