Page 13 of Wicked Embers

The memory of Leigh’s fiery exit twists something deep in me—anger, desire, or both. My cock twitches. My lips curl at the thought of her eventual surrender.

Chapter 6

RADOMIR

I settle into my chair, the smooth leather cold against my back, watching Mark writhe, his discomfort as palpable as a worm on a hook. Viktor looms by the door, silent but radiating menace, a reminder that escape isn’t an option.

Before I can speak, Mark dives into his performance, his desperation pouring from every trembling word. It’s almost pathetic—almost amusing.

“Please, Radomir, don’t hurt Leigh!” Mark pleads, his voice breaking on the words. “She’s angry—impulsive! Her temper gets the better of her sometimes.” The false paternal concern in his tone grates against my patience.

My disbelief nearly has me gaping. Not a shred of accountability. It’s all deflection—pushing the blame onto his daughter.

“She’ll be punished,” I say coolly. “For the chaos she’s caused and for running off. But this? This is on you, Mark.”

The mention of Leigh ignites a tension deep in my core. Her defiance burns in my mind, a flame that refuses to die out. She’s trouble, no question, but I’ve built my empire on taming chaos. And Leigh Dalton? She’s just another storm waiting to be controlled.

“I was the one she attacked—pepper spray, a bottle to the head, the whole nine yards!” Mark insists, his voice shrill. “You don’t know how hard it’s been to control her!”

“Control her?” Gavriil snaps, his voice cutting through the tension. “She’s your daughter, Mark, not some stray mutt.”

Mark bristles, his jaw tightening. “I did my best. You try being a single father!” He hesitates, then his expression lights with a spark of desperation. “But I can find her for you! I know her hiding spots, the people she trusts.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Gavriil’s disgust boils over. “That’s your kid, and you’re offering her up like a sacrificial lamb. You really are a piece of shit.”

“Enough,” I cut in, silencing them both. Gavriil shoots me a glowering look, but I ignore him, returning my attention to Mark. He’s visibly shaken now, though I suspect it has less to do with Leigh’s fate and more with the thin ice he’s skating on.

“Write down every place she could run to,” I order, my tone leaving no room for argument as I shove a notepad and pen toward him.

Mark hesitates before the pen touches the paper. His hand shakes as he scrawls out a list.

When Mark hands me the notepad, I tear off the page and hand it to Viktor. “Get this to Dolph and Fredrik.” Viktor nods, slipping out of the room.

Mark shifts uneasily in his chair, his hands twisting together. “This won’t affect our deal, will it?” The wheedling tone grates on me, the con artist in him momentarily shining through the cracks of his cowardice.

I savor the silence, watching the sweat bead on his brow, his nerves unraveling one thread at a time. Mark doesn’t realize that he’s not negotiating—he’s begging. And beggars in my world get nothing unless I allow it. Right now, I allow him to breathe, nothing more and I get to torment him with another of his weaknesses—his daughter.

“I’ll let you know once my men find Leigh. And howwillinglyshe submits to me.“ I break the thick silence.

Mark’s face drops, his lips trembling as he raises his hands in a frantic, useless protest. “No! Wait!” he blurts out. “Leigh is... she’s...” His voice falters, his composure cracking. “Fuck! I can’t do this.” He shakes his head, and I can see he’s fighting with what little conscience he has. “There must be another way.” I’m unsure if he’s speaking to me or himself, as his voice is a hoarse whisper and his looking down at his legs, like a homeless person having a conversation with the pavement.

“If you’re talking about Leigh,” I lean forward, my eyes hardening making his eyes snap back to mine. “There is no other way out for her. You’ve already sealed her fate.”

He has gone still and is watching me through his red, puffy eyes. His jaw is swollen, and I can’t help the pang of pride I feel for the hellion that did that to him. At least I know she can handle herself in a tough situation, and I can imagine that taking on her father was really tough for her.

“Spineless prick,” Gavriil mutters glaring at Mark with the kind of disdain only a man bound by honor can muster forsomeone who abandoned his—and my cousin has more honor than any other I know.

Gavriil’s fate was sealed years ago, a victim of family duty and the promises of a past generation. Dmitri Mirochin, my mother’s youngest brother, had fucked up a deal with a remote Russian village to secure their unwavering loyalty. To fix the fuck up and secure an agreement, a Mirochin son and the village elder’s granddaughter would be bound by marriage.

That promise hung over our family like a curse until it fell squarely on Gavriil’s shoulders. He was forced to marry Irina Voronina, the village elder’s granddaughter, to uphold the pact. Without the marriage, we would have lost the village’s vital support—their resources, including drugs and weapons, that have bolstered our power for decades.

Irina is beautiful, but her heart is colder than the wind that cuts across the Siberian tundra. She’s also fiercely possessive, a dangerous trait given that Gavriil is in love with someone else—a secret Oleksi and I know, though Gavriil doesn’t realize it. He sacrificed his freedom for the family, and I haven’t forgotten it.

Knowing this, I understand how the situation with Leigh must weigh on him. Gavriil has always valued freedom, even if he’s never truly had it. Born into the Bratva, he’s lived his entire life shackled by obligations he didn’t choose.

“I hope you haven’t led my men on a wild goose chase. Just because you’ve suddenly suffered an attack of conscience!” I warn Mark, sitting back and watching him intently. “Because if you have, when my men do find Leigh, and they will...” My eyes bore into his as I let my words drift. “You’ll both be punished for it.” I lean forward, a slow smile curving my lips, making sure Mark knows exactly what kind of punishment I intend forhis daughter. “While my men handle you, I’ll be claiming what’s mine—Leigh.”

His eyes widen, and his face has gone ashen as he chokes. “No… wait!” His hands fly up. “Leigh is an innocent!” He blurts out, making my brows shoot up. “Jesus!” He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “I can’t do this.” He mutters again, his eyes dropping to the floor. “There has to be another way.”

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