Elena offers me back a hint of a smile, her long chocolate hair bone straight, her pretty pouty lips smothered in gloss. Ever the elegant one, she’s dressed head to toe in a form-fitting black jumpsuit and wedges. It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, and she can’t see the hard-on I’m hiding under the table.

“Morning.”

“What brings you in?” I ask in amusement, keen to hear what she has to say.

She crosses her arms, her eyebrow hitched. “Work,” she replies in a clipped tone.

“Work? What does that mean?”

“It means I’m ready to go back to work. I’m done being a wife.”

Guffawing, I come out from behind the desk and post up on the edge of it, so I can see her better. She’s sexy as fuck, and if she wasn’t a Mancini, I would be proud to have her on my arm. It’s not as if I’m not today, but it’s more of a pride thing at this stage.

“Done being a wife,” I repeat, rubbing at the nape of my neck. “You’re funny, but you’re also the Pakhan’s wife. You’re the Donna. You don’t have to request anything, you do it.”

I’ve got to be nice to her if I want to manipulate her in the future. She balks at how quickly I open the door, but the thing is, she doesn’t know what’s inside it. There’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, and I get why.

She turns over her hands, exhaling a sigh. She might be the Donna in Sicily, but in America, it’s another story altogether. She’s a newbie with training wheels and she’s going to need time to find her footing in the jungle of New York. She won’t have the same level of coverage she has in Sicily.

“Right.” She sits up straight, biting her bottom lip. Inwardly I’m groaning and resisting the impulse to take her on the office table, christening it. A couple of my work associates kill my dream by walking past. Elena is in full view, and I hadn’t bothered to close the Venetian blinds. I’m doing my best to make her feel comfortable. “I am.”

“So then…,” I tell her, moving back around the large hardwood desk to the filing cabinet and pulling out a thick manila record. “Why don’t you take over running Fresh Start the Bratva charity foundation for a while? It’s a housing not-for-profit charity for the underprivileged and particularly immigrants—like us. It would give you a head start.” Elena toys with the ends of her hair, studying me to see if I’m serious, but she says nothing, so I continue. “It will give you a chance to form valuable connections and learn the American way of life.” I hand over the folder to her so she can study it. “But….”

Elena’s head snaps up, her face puzzled. “But what?”

I return to stand in front of her, a serious expression clouding my face. Her shoulders tense, her guard rail rising. “No matter how many people you meet, and how many events you attend, you will still be my loyal and faithful wife. The day I hear about another man touching you, I will kill him.”

Elena flips through the details of the contract, shaking her head and ignoring my warning. “I don’t know why you would flip out about it anyway,” she mutters under her breath.

“What?”

Her mouth twitches up as the pages flip. “You heard me. It’s a contracted marriage and it’s not real, so why do you care so much?”

Her defiance is bringing the brewing volcano in me to the surface, so now I have to apply a little more pressure so the little L’vitsa really comprehends my savagery. I lean down close to her face, tilting her chin up to meet my eyes.

“As long as you’re my wife, Elena, the contract remains. If you want a man, or if you are feeling the urge of horniness come over you, I’m more than willing to help you out with that, trust me,” I whisper, my mouth inches from hers. Her breathing picks up, and satisfied with her visceral reaction, I step back, admiring my handiwork in the form of a crimson blush.

Oh yes. She’s already breaking. She wants me as much as I want her. I can’t wait….

A rap of knuckles on the door draws my attention to it. It’s disappointing as I wanted Elena to respond. Another time. It’s Yegor, and as soon as he realizes who is in the chair, his eyes practically cut Elena in half. His arm is still in a sling, and I know he’s pissed about me marrying her, which is why he’s perfect for the next assignment I’m about to give him. He pivots upon catching her eye about facing the door.

“Yegor, just the man I want to see; come on in,” I beckon smoothly. “You’re right on time.”

“I am?” he grunts, moving to the far left of the office as a small smirk forms on Elena’s mouth. Now it’s her turn to be excited about her handiwork, even if it was a shit shot. “Right on time for what?” He gestures angrily, his gaze shifting to Elena.

“I’m appointing you to be Elena’s assistant for the Fresh Start not-for-profit. Elena’s going to be running it from now on,” I tell him, Elena’s mouth gapes open. She’s as irritated, if not more so, by the announcement, judging from the spiteful glance she gifts me, but I don’t care. What did she think I was going to do?

“Assistant?” Yegor clarifies, his forehead receding. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to help Elena settle into the Bratva order. You know, help guide her as she manages the day-to-day operations. It will be good for the both of you,” I reply succinctly, hoping Yegor understands what I’m hinting towards.

Elena says nothing, and I’m mildly surprised. I did expect some sort of outburst or protest from her, but none comes. Instead, she simply nods, offering Yegor a stiff smile. Elena rises to her feet, turning on her heel, departing in a huff. Exhaling, a smirk lines my face. She’s going to have to be okay with it, otherwise… I’m going to kill her.

Yegor’s eyes travel with her, the door clicking shut behind her. Immediately Yegor faces me, gesturing to me in disgust with his free hand.

“Why would you give her this type of power, Nikk? And why the hell are you appointing me?” His face flushes red with anger, but I’m a man with a master plan.

“There’s nothing for you to be worried about. It’s a special game I’m playing. I will let her have her power, but in between I will remind her that I’m the one who gave her the power in the first place, do you understand?”