Page 20 of Trapping His Darling

I offered no response. I merely dressed.

“We’re to be married in a few months,” she added. “Don’t you think we should get to know each other?”

I sensed ulterior motives beneath her words, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. I walked past her, refusing to acknowledge her presence. If I thought I could get away with it, I would simply slit her throat and eliminate the possibility of future betrayal. She reeked of it. And I didn’t have time to bother with it.

Sadly, I could not end her yet. I had to play politics instead.

I reached into my pocket and fingered the panties. I had an obsession starting that required my focus. I would not waste my limited free time on entertaining a woman I wanted nothing to do with.

“It took you long enough,” my father grumbled once I arrived back at his office where he and Roger waited.

I sat down, gesturing for a servant to pour me a drink, and the moment she finished, she hurried out of the room. Bratva business wasn’t for the ears of the help, and the punishment for eavesdropping was swift and deadly. It made the help quick.

“Now that we’re all here, the Italians have requested an audience,” my father declared. “They’ll be attending the next significant event, and we’ll sit down with them to ease tensions.Once everyone sees our alliance is stronger than ever, there should be fewer territorial disputes.”

How could we smooth anything over when Don Ricci was hell-bent on revenge? He had murdered his wife, who was carrying a Russian child, and no arranged marriage would rectify that offense anytime soon. Regardless of my father’s claims, when the moment presented itself, the Don would toss aside our alliance to assassinate my brother.

Presently, the Italians knew that playing nice would get them closer to that ultimate goal of eliminating Alexie, and probably my father and myself as well. My father was too close to the Don to see it, but it was clear as day to me what their plan was. They wanted to encroach.

“Sir, if I may,” Roger interjected, “we should offer a stronger apology to the Italians, one with feminine blood.”

“A Russian virgin?” My father inquired, leaning forward. “Who do we have who could meet this requirement? It could not be just any woman.”

“Perhaps the blood of a Russian female who may need some… taming,” Roger suggested cryptically. “We do have one in the wings.”

“That might work.” Father contemplated for a moment before he shook his head, as if deciding against it. “No. That needs to be a last resort. I’ll review the family lines to identify suitable candidates. If they aren’t already at the orphanage, it might be a good time to move some girls there,” my father said. “Get them ready.”

He was referring to a property which served as neutral territory, for all organizations to send their girls to be groomed to become obedient wives.

“Sir, will this girl marry the Don?” Roger inquired.

My father shook his head. “No, the Don would most likely use her as a mistress. Enough on this. What’s next on the agenda?”

“The party to announce Viktor’s succession is scheduled. We’ve hired and vetted the catering company.”

“Viktor,” my father addressed. “Ensure that nothing goes wrong at this party. Many eyes will be on you, scrutinizing the type of leader you’ll become. You cannot afford to fail.”

I nodded in agreement, concealing my growing desire to tear my father apart. At some point, we would have to address the betrothment.

As if he had read my mind, my father then added this tidbit.

“Perhaps we should announce the marriage alliance as well.”

“No,” I said quickly. At the lifting brow, I expounded. “My fiancée might have plans set.”

My father nodded. “True. Women are frivolous creatures. Fine. Let her plan that announcement.”

The rest of the meeting was a blur, as my plan continued to take shape. My littlemilyymight just be the key to solving all my problems. If I could impregnate her, I could use that as an excuse to call the wedding off. Regardless of training, my would-be fiancée did not seem like the type of woman that would passively accept the pregnant sidepiece lingering around.

CHAPTER TEN

Tiffany, Russia

“You might have beenthe last one to see him alive!” Lavania cried over the speaker phone. “And I picked you up from his house! This is not good!”

Lord, the whole neighborhood was in an uproar over the death of a Bratva soldier. People needed to chill.

“It will be fine,” I assured her, as I approached my wardrobe to get ready for the next job of the day. “Take deep breaths. You sound like you’re about to hyperventilate.”

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