Page 58 of The Councilor

At least the muscles in his face softened. He glanced down my chest and chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. I have two tails on the other girls.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Yes, sir.” He gave me a nod of respect and I sighed. There was so much protocol in the world of crime syndicates, old school or not. I’d learned early on respect was hard earned but once achieved, highly regarded and for a decent man, rewarded in kind.

Although some in the ranks would say I wasn’t prepared to fully embrace being second in command, I couldn’t care less. Maybe being one of the good guys, at least for the most part, wasn’t in my best interest. As soon as he’d left, I took a deep breath. I should make contact with Vadim but at this point, I needed private time. It was rare that I allowed myself to take it.

Half laughing, I moved to the wine cabinet, selecting a perfect pinot noir. I took my time opening it while I thought about Ivan’s reaction more than anything.

My enforcer wasn’t telling me something, likely in a wayward attempt to provide some level of protection. He’d soon learn he didn’t need to worry.

I could hold my own against anyone attempting to cut down my part of the empire.

Or my Pakhan’s for that matter.

I grabbed two glasses, heading toward the stairs, locking the front door as I did so. As I walked up the long flight, I thought about Raphaella’s obvious concern about a wedding. Wasn’t the perfect white dress wedding every little girl’s dream? I was certainly no Prince Charming, but I would do my best to give her what she desired.

As soon as I walked into the room, I was struck once against by her vulnerability and innocence. She’d crawled under the covers, bringing her bear to the bed.

Now she was sleeping, her long eyelashes floating across the shimmer of her cheeks.

I stood watching, realizing but not hating that I was still a predator.

And that she was my prey.

I’d captured my beautiful bird and planned on savoring every moment.

Even though my sinful actions would likely be the final nails in a coffin that would send me straight into hell.

CHAPTER 17

Raphaella

“You will forever be mine. The filthy things I’m going to do to you are purely sin.”

His whisper was husky, his hot breath skipping along the back of my neck. I sensed I was murmuring in my sleep, every inch of my skin sensitive. I rolled over, sliding my arm across my pillow to the second one.

The jarring moment forced my eyes open. He wasn’t there.

I stared at the wall, realizing early morning light was already streaming in. The last thing I remembered was the sweetness of our conversation after the incredible moments of passion.

Sighing, I rolled back over, noticing a glass of wine placed on my nightstand. I’d missed out on the rest of the evening.

But it had been worth it, the night’s sleep some of the best I’d had in a long time. How interesting when I’d been certain I would never relax here. I stretched, unable to keep fromyawning. I was still naked, previously curled tightly under the soft covers. It would forever surprise me that I was comfortable in his house.

In his space.

I wasn’t used to that, always on edge even in the small apartment. Maybe my father’s safety concerns had weighed heavily on me.

A quick look at the clock reminded me this was a workday and an important one. I was going to be a part of a historic case. Or so I thought. I’d heard some on the news, realizing both the client and the prosecutor were noteworthy. Names didn’t matter but the fact the defendant had been accused of killing his ex-wife did.

I wasn’t judgmental in the least given what my father did for a living. However, if I’d known when I found out about the other witness, I’m not certain I would have been so eager to provide it to Aleksander. That sounded terrible even in my own mind but even I had unwritten rules about the sanctity of marriage, whether or not it had ended in divorce.

The thought remained with me as I headed into the bathroom to take a shower. The incredible space was like every other room in the house, the room bigger than the kitchen and small eating area in the apartment. Every fixture was expensive, including the marble-looking floors and glistening tiles in the shower itself. I marveled at the shower’s design. With two showerheads, space enough for six people, and a glass door that appeared to fade into the wall without tracks, I knew I’d likely take a long shower.

There was a basket of goodies on the counter housing two sinks, various shower soaps and bubble bath for the tub placed under the huge window. There were also fresh toiletries suitable for having someone over for an unexpected weekend gathering.

The towels were also to die for, soft and fluffy, more of a bath sheet than anything close to the bath towels I was used to using. I scooped one up, holding it next to my face as I peered into the mirror. Reflections told no lie. I was glowing, not quite the ugly duckling my father believed me to be. I bit my lower lip, my lurid thoughts about the sexy Russian still surprising.

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