Page 56 of Vendetta Vows

The corner of Ruslan's mouth twitches upward, and despite everything, my stomach does a little flip at his smile.

"Zapadniye Vori," he says smoothly, his lips wrapping around each letter like silk. "It means 'western thieves' in Russian. It's Gregor's grand name for his coalition of Russian crime families here on the west coast. He brought them together to stop us from killing each other. You can call them theVorifor short. Much easier that way."

"Whatever the name is," I raise an eyebrow. "It seems like his plan didn't exactly work out."

"The peace holds, most of the time." Ruslan runs a hand through his hair as he studies my expression. "But you're right. The system breaks down every once in a while."

I pace the foyer, mind racing to stitch together the fragments of what I've learned. It's easier to think about Ruslan's problem than my own precarious situation.

"So let me get this straight," I say, ticking points off on my fingers. "Both Semyon and Gregor want control of your family's bratva, but they're approaching it from different angles."

Ruslan nods, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "That's right."

"Gregor's offering you the bratva, but with conditions. If you refuse and Semyon gets control through Mikayla, Gregor's threatening to use your younger nieces as pawns."

"By marrying them off to men who would challenge Mikayla's claim," Ruslan clarifies, his voice hardening. "Which would lead to their deaths eventually."

I shiver at the casual way he talks about murder before I continue. "And Semyon is only agreeing to a temporary truce because he's probably planning to do the same thing with your nieces against you if he needed to."

"Probably."

I tap my finger against my lips, thinking. "I'm assuming that Gregor's counting on Tamara's obsession with you to produce a child before she's too old. And because you would be the pakhan, your child would have a stronger claim than your nieces."

Ruslan's expression darkens, but he doesn't interrupt.

"But what do you want?"

"I want to keep my nieces safe while I find out whether Semyon ordered Lev and Mikhail's deaths."

"And if he did?"

Ruslan's eyes grow cold. "Then I'll avenge my family."

I study the hardened lines around his mouth. "But to do that, you need theVorito help you fight Semyon once you have the evidence, don't you? Which means you need Gregor's support."

Ruslan's eyebrows rise. "You continue to surprise me,zarechka."

When I finish, I look up to find Ruslan watching me with something like admiration.

"How could you see all this so quickly?" he asks.

I shrug, feeling a flush of pride despite everything. "Reading between the lines is a survival skill."

I can't tell him that it all comes from seven years of watching for the tiniest signs that Kristofer might have found me.

"Is there..." I hesitate, uncertain if I'm crossing some invisible line. "Is there a world in which theVorican support you without Gregor's backing?"

Ruslan's golden eyes lock with mine. "The other families in theVoridon't particularly care who runs the Dragunov bratva. They only care that the succession follows clean and orderly lines."

"But what if..." I pause, a new idea forming. "What if you don't marry Tamara at all?"

Ruslan's eyebrows shoot up. "Are you volunteering to take her place,zarechka?"

My face flushes hot, and suddenly I'm picturing myself in a white dress, flowers in my hair, Ruslan waiting at an altar with that devastating smile. His hands taking mine, pulling me close, those golden eyes promising forever...

"I—I—" I stammer, horrified at how easily my mind conjured the fantasy. "That's not what I meant. I'm just thinking out loud."

My heart hammers against my ribs. What is wrong with me? I can't afford to dream about marriages and happily-ever-afters, especially not with a man who lives in this world of violence and power.

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