Page 63 of Savage Reign

“It’s no problem. We’re finished here,” Igor cuts in, rising from his seat. His gaze sweeps over her, lingering far too long. The way he drinks her in from head to toe sets my nerves on fire. “Are you going to introduce me, Nikolai?”

My blood turns cold. I clear my throat and force a mask of disinterest. “Sofiya, this is Igor Bocharov, the senior advisor to the minister of finance and an associate of mine.”

Sofiya offers him a reserved smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bocharov.”

She extends her hand, and Igor seizes the opportunity. Instead of a quick shake, he lifts her hand to his lips and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to the back of it.

Her body stiffens at the contact. Not for the first time tonight, I regret not having a gun tucked into my waistband.

“Please, call me Igor. We’ve actually met before. In Moscow a few years ago. I was having dinner with some associates, and you were at the next table with your sister, her husband, and the mighty Maxim Belov and his wife, Kira.”

Sofiya frowns, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember that.”

Igor chuckles, the sound predatory to my ears. “It was a brief encounter. I only stopped by to say hello to Maxim. You were very young then. I’m sure an old man like me wouldn’t have left much of an impression.”

I can’t take it anymore. My patience snaps. “Go upstairs, Sofiya. I’m in a meeting.”

Her eyes flick to mine, a hint of hurt in her expression, but this is for her own good.

“Good night, Sofiya,” Igor purrs. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Uh, you too.” Sofiya licks her lips nervously as she backs out of the room. My molars press together. I wish like hell she hadn’t come down here at all, and most definitely not wearing that.

The door clicks shut, and Igor turns to me, his face tight with disdain. “Buying her clothes to dance in, letting her roam freely around your house. Is that the kind of carrot you prefer to use?”

The weight in the room feels like a live wire, humming with unspoken threats. Igor and I have always agreed on one thing—you do what’s necessary to secure money and power. You annihilate anyone standing in your way.

Right now, I don’t give a shit about any of that. Primal need thrums through me to protect Sofiya, making me want to tear Igor limb from limb.

He places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make his point. “Use her,” he insists. “Bring the Syndicate to its knees. You should be the most powerful pakhan in Russia—not Maxim Belov or Roman Vasiliev.”

With that, he walks out of the room, a suffocating silence taking his place.

After Igor leaves, I grab the keys to the Bugatti and go for a long drive.

Pushing the car through tight bends at breakneck speeds is the only way to ease the weight crushing my chest. Igor’s words won’t stop echoing in my head—his accusation that the Syndicate isn’t coming to heel fast enough, that I’ve gone soft because of Sofiya.

The worst part is he’s not wrong.

She’s fucked with my head, and it’s up to me to screw it back on straight.

I might feel a scrap of something for my wife, but it doesn’t change a damn thing. At the end of the day, I know all too well what happens when you care about someone so deeply that you give them everything—your freedom, your trust, your love, and your protection. They stab you in the back, leaving you bleeding and broken.

I won’t make that mistake again.

I’ll do whatever is necessary to bring the Syndicate in line. I have to prove to myself that I still have the edge and that I can be ruthless when I need to be.

Sofiya is a pawn, and I’ll use her as one if that’s what it takes to win.

I pull up in front of the house, slamming the car door behind me. Inside, I take the stairs two at a time. A voice in the back of my mind warns me that I can’t be trusted right now. That I’m only going to do something I will regret later.

It’s the middle of the night, and I’m not in a good place. I should go to the strip club and find someone to fuck, to take out all this dark, churning energy inside me.

But no one else will do.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

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