Page 124 of Bratva Butcher

Shit luck there, though.

“About Autumn,” he said, ignoring what I’d said, but the slight clench to his jaw told me he didn’t like that little comment. “Word travels fast in our circles. You know that. I’ve managed to keep the others from finding out, but that won’t last forever. Dimitri Volkov kissing some woman on the dance floor of Allistair’s ball is pretty big news. Everyone is wondering who she is. What makes her so special to catch the attention of a man who has shown no interest in anyone else in over a decade.”

“Aleksandr—”

He raised a hand, palm facing outwards. “I’m not done.”

I arched an eyebrow, but made no objection as he continued.

“I know you’re still grieving Mother’s death, and I know that you’ll never allow yourself to be happy with another woman, but I’m telling you now that you should.” His eyes held mine,blazing with the need to get me to listen to his words clearly. “You’ve held onto her for ten years, Father. There comes a time where you need to let her go and move on. I’m here to tell you that’s okay. That we all support you. Not to ruin this chance you have at happiness because you can’t let go of the past. Mother wouldn’t want this for you. She wouldn’t want you to spend your days alone. She would want you to be happy.” He gripped my shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “We all do. Don’t do what I know you will try to do. Don’t push Autumn away.”

I frowned, but he was already walking away, leaving me to ponder his words and their meaning on my own.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Autumn DeValos

Ibreathed in thecool, midnight air of Las Vegas as I stood on top of a rolling hill overlooking the Volkov Estate.

A week had passed since Allistair’s ball. Since the high of the best sex I’d ever had and the low of being pushed away—yet again—by Dimitri. Since finding out the person behind my contract was Sergei Volkov, and that it wasn’t actually Dominik that was the intended target, butDimitri, the man who’d done nothing but cause me inner turmoil for the last few months.

The man I feared I might…love.

That was the only explanation I could come up with for that feeling I’d never experienced before. I recalled all the things Dimitri said about love when we were locked in the cell together. Recalled how Nikolai acted with that blonde woman, Tatiana.

Love was the only thing that made sense, that could rationalise that agonsing pressure smothering my chest. The only thing that could rationalise this ache in my soul for him. To be near him.

And didn’t that complicate the fuck out of things?

I had two options before me.

I could either complete the contract and kill Dimitri, or refuse, and most likely have to live out the rest of my days in hiding because Sergei would put an open contract out on me for not doing the job. That meant anyone—assassin or not—could try to kill me to claim the money attached to the contract.

If it had been a few months before, back before I’d even met the bastard, it wouldn’t even be an issue. Wouldn’t even be a question.

I would have done it with zero hesitation and then gone home and slept on the giant pile of cash I’d earnt from it.

But now…

Now, things were different.

I knew Dimitri Volkov, and it wasbecauseI knew him that I wasn’t sure if I was capable of killing him anymore.

Hurting him? Yes.

But killing him? I honestly didn’t know if I could do it.

Which was why I was there, staking out his house. I needed to talk to him about the situation.

Maybe he would say something stupid, like he always did, and then I could kill him without a guilty conscience hanging over my head.

Using my high-powered binoculars that were equipped with night vision, I did another perimeter sweep of Dimitri’s house. It was surrounded on all sides by thick, wrought-iron fencing that spread out for miles from the house itself. The home wasn’t only well protected, but it was well guarded, with 360-degree rotating cameras, foot patrolsandcanines.

I’d been watching for at least a few hours, and I’d yet to see a way in without getting caught—

“What the fuck is that?” I whispered under my breath. I adjusted the dial in the centre of the binoculars to zoom in and sharpen the focus. “Is that—”

A woman in a black, skintight cat burglar outfit was climbing out of one of the windows of the house.

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