Page 23 of Savage Boss

At least, that’s how Vlad felt about his own child.

Vlad gathered the files and stood as Mack made his way to the front of the office. “You can’t take those,” Mack grumbled.

Vlad ignored him and tucked the files into his jacket. Without another word he left the office, chuckling under his breath as Mack shouted, “Lucy’s gonna bring a Bundt cake to Sunday dinner. Don’t know what the fuck that is, but she wanted me to let you guys know.”

Chapter Twelve

Vlad narrowed his eyes at Jane as she rushed into the dining room where he was already seated, their supper spread out in front of him in a tempting display.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m late!” she said breathlessly as she tried to rush past him to her end of the table.

Vlad grabbed hold of her wrist and forced her to stop. Her momentum carried her forward and she would have fallen if Vlad hadn’t twisted her around and forced her into a controlled fall into his lap. She let out a gasp, which he quickly smothered under a kiss that was meant to be a greeting but quickly turned into something else.

Jane shoved her fingers into his hair, gripping him by the roots and clinging as their tongues dueled for supremacy. Fuck, he loved the way she kissed. Aggressive and wholeheartedly. He forgot why he was angry with her.

When the kiss ended, she blinked up at him, dazed. Vlad took advantage by turning her over on his lap and spanking her ass. He hit her ten times, one for every minute she was late for their meal. She knew better. He tolerated a lot from her, but it was imperative that she be in their dining room at 6:00 PM sharp. The rule was partially so he could see her with his own eyes, be certain she was safe. He always imagined the worst when she was late; that her bad attitude finally pissed off the wrong person.

He set her back on her feet and gave her one more hard tap before letting her go. She wiggled her ass as she sashayed to her end of the table. Normally he would have grinned at her retreating back, enjoying the view of her gorgeous ass packed into a pair of sinfully tight jeans.

Unfortunately, tonight, his mind was occupied elsewhere on darker thoughts. He was going to have to devastate his wife once more. It was this single truth that stopped him from being angry with her over deliberately deceiving him into believing she was going into the office each day to do paperwork and solve easy cases.

“Why so serious?” she asked, dropping into her chair opposite his and reaching for a bowl of steamed green beans.

“Eat first, then we’ll talk.”

She stared at him, her dark eyes becoming shadowed as she realized just how serious he was. She dropped the fork back into the bowl and leaned back in her chair. “Tell me now.”

Her tone was already combative, which didn’t bode well for a civilized discussion. Who was he kidding? With Jane there was no possibility of civility if she didn’t get her way. Perhaps her father should have spanked her more as a child. Vlad reflected for a moment. Did the Amish spank their children? Perhaps a switch or a horse whip? Whichever, Jane didn’t get enough of it.

“Eat your beans. We will talk when I’m ready.” Vlad’s voice was calm.

She made a face and started shoving beans into her mouth. Vlad watched calmly as she ate nothing but the few beans she’d put on her plate. She ignored the chicken and spinach ravioli.

She dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter and wiped her mouth with her napkin before tossing it aside. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. “Done. Now tell me why your panties are in a twist.”

Vlad closed his eyes for a second, drawing in a breath and releasing it. Some days it took real effort not to devastate the love of his life with both actions and words. He opened his eyes and set his fork down next to his plate.

He pinned her with his dark gaze. “I went to see you in your office today.”

A frown wrinkled one of her delicate brows. “You must’ve missed me; I was running errands.”

“You were chasing down leads,” Vlad corrected.

She shrugged. “Same thing.”

Vlad vibrated with the need to hit something, to release some of his frustration. He’d always been that way. A fighter first and a thinker second. Over years of honing a carefully controlled godfather image, he’d managed to suppress his more violent urges, but they were always simmering below the surface, ready to explode into action.

“You’re playing a dangerous game with your words, wife,” he said through gritted teeth. “We both know when I allowed you to return to the office, I expressly forbid you from any kind of work that will put you in harm’s way.”

She shrugged negligently. “I’m not doing anything dangerous.” Her eyes flitted away from his as she told the lie.

“Come here, Jane,” he ordered.

She eyed him but didn’t move. “I prefer to speak from across the table.”

He’d had enough. The woman never listened, was contrary to the point of absurdity, and she was attempting to dodge a conversation that would shape her future. Vlad stood, his fists on the table. She looked vaguely alarmed but quickly smoothed her expression into carelessness.

“Come here,” he repeated, infusing his tone with every ounce of anger he was feeling.

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