Page 51 of A Sinner's Virtue
“You think they were targeting Zoe?” My blood goes cold. I’ve considered the possibility. I’d be an idiot not to have. She’s connected to the Pakhan of the motherfucking Bratva. Mikhail Petrov would have a list of enemies a mile long.
Ivan shrugs while offering little more than a noncommittal grunt. I look to the other guy who does much the same.
“Right, I’ll find out myself then.”
I walk upstairs and find Zoe in the bedroom, where she’s pulling a sweater over her head. She’s already wearing a pair of jean shorts. “I know I told you to put clothes on. But, fuck, do I prefer you out of them.”
“Well, let me find out what they’re doing here so I can get rid of them and then you can work on getting me naked again.” Zoe leans up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine before pulling away from me far too fucking quickly.
“Can I borrow your phone?” I ask her.
“Yeah, it’s on the bedside table. Code is one-two-one-three.”
“Thanks.” I wait until she’s halfway down the stairs before I unlock her screen and find the number for the person I’m looking for. I glance at the time and briefly consider not calling. It’s a thought that flies out the window as swiftly as I can tap the green button next to his name.
“Zoe, everything okay?” he answers after a couple of rings.
“Petrov, it’s Marcel,” I tell him.
“Where’s Zoe?”
“She’s fine. She’s downstairs with Dumb and Dumber. What do you know about the shooting that happened before Zoe left for New York?”
“What should I know?” Mikhail answers my question with a question.
“If you know something, then I want to know it too. If there’s even an inkling that Zoe’s in any kind of danger, I need to fucking know,” I growl into the phone.
“Watch your mouth. The only reason you’re still breathing is because Zoe wants you to be. Don’t make me break her heart by changing that.”
“I need to know what kind of danger she’s in,” I repeat, ignoring his threats that I know are anything but empty.
“If I thought she was in any real danger, I never would have let her go back. My guys are there as a precaution,” he says.
“If I find out that someone is after her because of you, there won’t be enough Russians in the world to save you,” I hiss at him.
Mikhail laughs, as if my words are nothing but a joke to him. Then again, he doesn’t know me. “Good talk, Marcello,” he says before the call is disconnected.
“Bastard.” I throw Zoe’s phone down on the bed and head downstairs to find her. It doesn’t take long. She’s in the kitchen with Mikhail’s men. Zoe looks up at me as she bites into a slice of pepperoni pizza. There’re two pizza boxes on the counter. No idea where they came from or what’s taking our Uber Eats guy so long to get here, but she’s eating so I don’t fucking care.
I walk around the counter and stand behind Zoe, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her body up against mine. I press a light kiss to her temple while eyeing Mikhail’s men, who look anything but impressed by my public display of affection.
Zoe, however, seems oblivious to their scowls. Once her mouth isn’t full anymore, she says something in Russian that has the two idiots chuckling. “What’d I miss over the last month?” she directs to them before I can ask her what everyone’s laughing about and then she looks to me. “Eat some pizza.”
“That isn’t pizza, babe. That’s fast food’s attempt at pizza,” I tell her as my glare lands on the Pizza Hut boxes.
“It’s good, though,” she says, taking another bite into her slice.
“Irina left the club,” Ivan says, and Zoe gasps. I have no idea who the fuck Irina is so I keep quiet.
“Why’d she leave?”
“No idea. Something about moving onto bigger and better things.” Ivan shrugs.
“Huh, maybe I should call her.”
“Who is Irina?” I ask Zoe.
“She was one of the dancers at the club. Nice girl.”
