Page 111 of Sinister Intentions

“Zotov seemed a bit…sad, as well.”

Sad? What the fuck?

“So what’s their news?”

Matt sat down.

“Christ, just spit it out already,” I said.

“Okay, well…it’s not really anything exciting. Father and Zotov decided to work on some real estate development together. The meeting was over within ten minutes after you left,” Matt replied, his tone measured and controlled as always. But I knew my little brother. There was something he was holding back.

“And?”

Matt met my gaze steadily, unfazed by my dark mood. “The more interesting thing happened after.”

“After the meeting?”

Matt nodded. “It seems Zotov is way more interested in you than in his relationship with Father. He basically cornered Alex and me and kept pressing for details: where you went and why you left so abruptly.” Matt paused, and watched my reaction closely. “Zotov’s interest in your sudden exit was…over the top, to say the least.”

A muscle ticked in my jaw, and I stared through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the cloudy sky. Of course, that Russian prick was stirring up more trouble, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

I didn’t like this. Not one fucking bit. Zotov sniffing around my personal life, around Jemma, made my blood boil with barely restrained fury. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered under my breath.“What do you think his angle is?” I asked Matt, trying to maintain my composure.

Matt scratched his neck. “Hard to say, but something’s definitely not right here. We need to keep a close eye on him.”

“I already told Hawk to set up a meeting with him,” I bit out. “As soon as possible. I want to look him in the eye when he tries to feed me his bullshit.”

Matt nodded.

If your enemies are closing in, it’s sometimes better to just turn around and welcome them into a loving hug.

Up close, it’s harder to keep the mask in place. Especially when you’re rolling in the dirt, fighting for dear life.

“I can set it up,” Matt said. “He basically forced his business card on Alex and me, which was kind of funny.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and shrugged. “Never knew the Russians were big on symbols.”

What the hell was he mumbling about? I glanced at it; so what if Zotov had a fucking symbol on his business card; who cared about shit like that anyway?

I nodded. “Do it.” Then I moved toward the kitchen and grabbed another bottle of water. Not that I felt especially fond of Bella, not after the stunt she pulled yesterday evening and the bad influence she surely had on Jemma. But I would use any excuse to catch a glimpse at Jemma in that Jacuzzi, and if that meant bringing my sister a bottle of water, I had no problem with that.

I turned back and caught Matt staring at me. His eyes gleamed with sly amusement. “So…you and Jemma, huh? When did youfinally admit she had you wrapped around her little finger from the first time you met?”

He clearly relished the opportunity to poke fun at my newfound weakness.

In all honesty, I would’ve probably done the same if our roles were reversed. And I deserved it. How fucking pathetic and transparent was I? The stoic Vince Salvini reduced to a lovesick fool by a single, stubborn, barely-of-age woman?

And yet…simply thinking about her by my side made me feel…different. She was mine now. My wife, my responsibility, my everything.

And I’d burn the whole goddamn world down to keep her.

“Watch it,” I warned, but there was no real heat behind it. “What’s going on between us is none of your business.”

He raised a single eyebrow. “Well, you’re basically fucking my fiancée. One could argue that is my business.”

I narrowed my eyes and stared him down.

He smirked. “When did you finally give in and embrace the fact that Jemma was yours, not mine? Because, damn, it was so obvious; Alex and I even had a bet running.”

“Shut up,” I snapped, irked by how transparent my obsession had become.

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