Page 102 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

I can’t help but smile. Older, but sharper than ever. Nothing gets past Zoya.

“We all know you don’t want the Sokolovs to wipe your family off the map. We all know how much you suffered since Dalton. I mean, that grief… it can be like poison. It can cloud your judgment. Paralyze you, right?”

I see a tremor in Zoya’s red lips. “They made me feel helpless.”

“But you are far from it. You kept yourself, and Anya, safe for over two years. You still have people loyal to you, Zoya. Not all of your soldiers are dead. They are merely scattered and waiting to be called back into action.”

“You have to get back into the game and call them out.” Nico picks up on my lead. “Because if you don’t, Leo will. He’ll take Anya and either kill her or force her into a marriage she doesn’t want. He will destroy her. Your legacy, Zoya. Anya is your legacy. You did a good job of keeping her alive, but now you need to help her fight. She can’t do it alone, and you’re right that the three of us won’t be enough.”

Zoya takes a deep breath. She reaches for her cup of tea, but her trembling hand gives away her fear. “Dammit.”

“You’re scared. I get it,” Nico says. “I am, too.”

“I don’t have the firepower to take Leo Sokolov on,” Zoya replies. “What do you expect me to do? Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“She’s pregnant,” I say.

Zoya sits up straight, her eyes wide with shock.

“Anya is pregnant with my child.”

Technically speaking, it could be Nico’s or Booker’s, but this isn’t the time or the place for that conversation.

“Does Leo know?” Zoya asks.

“Probably. The woman who betrayed us is still being debriefed by our friend back in Montana,” I reply. “We think he does know, though. He’s likely using her pregnancy as a means to keep her compliant, and Anya is smart enough to play along in order to secure her and our baby’s survival.”

My stomach twists painfully as I say these things.

“What do you need me to do?” Zoya asks again. The determination has returned to her eyes, and her hands no longer tremble. Her posture stiffens with each passing moment as she looks to Sergei and Andrei for some kind of guidance.

“We still have men in and around New York,” he says. “Loyal men who would come in a heartbeat, if you asked them.”

“How many?” Nico replies.

“Maybe two dozen, at most,” Zoya sighs. “They’re in hiding, fake identities, off the grid…but yes, we could reach out.”

“Then do it. Gather what’s left of the Asimov forces,” I say. “Let us lead the charge. And let’s show the Bratva that the Asimovs are not dead or buried. It’s time, Zoya. It’s time, and you know it.”

Yes, she knows it. It’s written all over her face. The dread, the wariness. I can’t blame her. She retired, hoping she’d have a peaceful sunset. Instead, she must stand up to the rising threat of Leo Sokolov after he slaughtered her son, her grandson, her daughter-in-law, and so many of her family.

But Anya’s life depends on it.

Yes, Zoya knows.

And so do we.

30

Anya

It’s midnight and I’m standing next to Leo in the middle of a brightly lit warehouse somewhere on the west side of the city. I’m surrounded by people who won’t hesitate to put a bullet in my head if I try to escape. As much as I tried, I couldn’t do anything at the house. Leo knew I’d attempt something, and he enlisted a dozen of his men to make sure I couldn’t.

“Keep calm and smile,” Leo tells me as we wait for the others to arrive. “It will all be over soon, and you’ll be able to carry your pregnancy to term undisturbed.”

“And what if I don’t keep calm and smile?”

“Then I will kill you slowly and painfully, and I’ll start with the little bastard.”

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