Page 46 of Mikhail Petrov

“As tempting as that sounds, wouldn’t it be crazy for you to head to your father’s reunion a married man? He’ll be wondering where the hell your new wife is.”

“What do you mean? You’ll be by my side, second to my father and his wife at the head of the table. Like a queen, exactly where you belong.”

It’s her turn to look confused. “Mikhail, I can’t just...” Her expression sours. “What if they don’t...”

I tip her chin, forcing our eyes to meet. “If they don’t, what, like you? Accept you?” She nods. “Leah, they’ll accept you on principle because you’re mine, and I love you.”

“Mikhail, I’m not like Celeste.”

“No, the fuck you’re not, because she was the biggest mistake of my life. I hurt you, and I lost you when I should have fought for you. You’re the woman I want to wake up to until the day I die.” I push a loose strand of hair behind her ear and kiss her forehead. “And I can’t wait to make babies with you.”

Leah’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “You know, you’re pretty sappy for a mafia boss,” she jokes, fisting my collar and pulling me to her lips.

“I’m going to dress you up like a fuck doll for Halloween, then stuff every hole like a goddamn turkey and make you my horny little Christmas tree every year.”

She laughs and squeezes my face, peppering kisses on my face. “That’s better.”

The blissful moment comes crashing down when my phone chimes, signaling their arrival. “You know the drill if things go south.”

A flash of defiance crosses her features, and she hesitates but eventually nods. It’s for show since we know neither one of us is capable of leaving the other behind, even if given the chance. My men unload the inventory onto trolleys and take the lead as we head toward a side entrance. Leah and I keep a sizable distance between us as a precautionary measure to avoid exploiting weaknesses. With a quick wink, she crosses the threshold of the building, and I offer a reassuring nod before stealing a sweeping glance behind me as I follow her inside.

The long corridor is equipped with surveillance at every angle, the feed funneling through to my home and a cloud server accessible by my father. Apart from the low thrum of a ventilation system and the clicks of Leah’s boots, the building is quiet. Nothing different from previous transactions, but the sense of heightened awareness and slight paranoia has me on higher alert than usual.

My men glance back, seeking my approval, before pushing open the double doors at the end of the hall. Giving them the okay, I hustle forward, my arm on Leah’s as I take her place. She falls back without protest.

“In and out, my love,” I whisper. “Tomorrow, we’ll be in Chicago. Together.”

The hint of a smile moves across her face until she peers past me, and it’s replaced by hard lines and all business. Taking her cue, I follow suit.

Issac Bianchi, underboss for the local Italian faction, has been in business with my family for a number of years. It’s rare for him to attend a simple exchange such as this one, let alone flanked by five men too many. Blood rushes past my ears as I mentally begin to calculate a plan of attack. The building is outfitted with safe rooms, trapdoors, and tunnels for instances of betrayal or a raid.

“Mikhail Petrov,” he says, lighting a cigar. “Glad to see you finally made it.” His eyes flicker to Leah and narrow. “Rodrigo sent in one hell of a replacement.”

“Inventory is all there, plus the extra you requested.”

Rage crawls up the back of my neck with each second his gaze stays on my girl. I need to divert his attention away from Leah and get the hell out of here before I do something stupid that ends up getting us both killed.

“Patience, Mikhail. There’s no rush. Unless you have somewhere more important to be.”

“I do,” I deadpan.

Isaac belts out a laugh. “I’m sure you do. Though I don’t blame you; I’d be in a hurry to get the fuck out of here, too, if I had that sweet piece of ass waiting for me.”

I suck in a sharp breath, my muscles tensing. “Don’t,” I grit out between clenched teeth. He chuckles, idly staring at his cigar, then points it at me as he speaks. “The big, bad Mikhail Petrov thinks he has some kind of power here. But unfortunately for you, you don’t have the upper hand, friend. So I suggest you relax, and we can all go home when this is over.”

The Beretta at my side is heavy and hot, and the urge to put a hole through his face is making my hands shake with anticipation.

“Now, I just need to know who I’m doing business with. That’s all,” he says as he moves toward Leah.

I ball my fist, jaw so tight I’m one ounce of pressure away from cracking teeth.

“I haven’t heard you say a single word, sweetheart. A little too pretty for this line of work. But given that you’re here, I’m assuming there’s a reason.”

Leah doesn’t break. She maintains eye contact and slow blinks at his remarks.

“What’s your name, bella?”

He reaches a hand up, as if intending to caress her face, but she dodges his touch and levels him with a cold glare.

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