Page 33 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

The spluttering denial ran too long to be genuine. When we reached my car, I stuffed a rag in his mouth, tied his hands behind his back, and strapped him into the backseat. I’d learned my lesson my first time dealing with men like Kent. They were sneaky, wily bastards who would throw themselves out of my SUV at the first chance. I couldn’t risk that with Kent. He raved behind the rag, his eyes bulging and his face turning crimson.

“You’re lucky the rag is clean. If I had my way, I’d shove the rag I wipe my ass with in your mouth and tape it shut.” I snorted and guided the SUV between two cars blocking the road. The drive to Viktor’s building turned sullen and quiet, Kent no doubt trying to think his way out of the predicament. The bump that separated the road from Viktor’s underground garage threw Kent sideways. He slammed his head into my seat, then rocked back, his eyes glazed and spit running from the corner of his mouth. I parked and faced him. “We’re going to walk inthere like two decent human beings.” I held up one finger. “Try anything, and you will wake in the hospital with your jaw wired shut.”

He nodded emphatically, and I yanked the rag from his mouth.

“I’ll untie your hands once you’re out of the car.” I stepped out and opened his door, motioning him forward. “Let’s go.”

He worked his mouth around and smacked his lips. “Viktor will hear about this.”

I snorted and removed the binding around his wrists. “Walk ahead of me. You know the way.” I didn’t trust this bastard any more than I would a cockroach in a bag of bread. The minute he thought he had an advantage, he’d use it.

The glass door opened at our approach. Kent paused to take in the grand sweep of the foyer. Hunger burned in his gaze. I knew the look. He wanted more than his share. He wanted everything.

I nudged him in the spine. “Keep walking.”

“Get your hands off me.” He tugged his suit jacket into place and smoothed his tie. “We’re above your pay grade now, enforcer.”

“Nothing is above my pay grade.” I poked him again for the sheer fuckery of it. “Elevator.”

I crowded in behind him, making sure he felt every bit of my anger in the small space. The quick ride ended before he gathered the courage to speak again, the doors opening to reveal the open space where Viktor kept his office.

Annie stood across from the elevator, her massage table folded at her feet. She blanched white at the sight of Kent and tugged the hem of her gold jacket over her hips. Shock rolled across her features. Annie covered her mouth with both hands, the pasty look on her face causing a pearlescent glow on her skin that turned it translucent. At a nod from me, Annie grabbed hertable and scuttled past me, knocking into Kent with her shoulder on her way into the elevator.

Kent stopped in his tracks. A boisterous laugh rippled across his body, heaving his shoulders upward. “I get it now.” He flicked his fingers toward the retreating elevator. “She’s a massage therapist. Right. That’s why she’s here, huh? Clearly, she’s willing to bend those rules–and her legs–to make the Bratva men happy. What’s her price? I might be willing to pay for it.”

I yanked him around by the collar and punched him in the mouth. I’d let him talk too long already. “Enough.” Blood spurted from his split lip and rained down his chin, peppering his white shirt. My fist on his neck tightened.

Viktor’s office door opened. He and Fyodor stepped out into the hallway. “Problems, Ilya?”

“Nothing I can’t handle as long as this bastard keeps his mouth shut about Annie.” I shoved him toward Viktor. “He wants an extension on his loan.”

“What did he say about Annie?” Fyodor strode past Viktor and grabbed Kent by the throat. He walked the man backward, slamming him into the wall with a rattlingboom.

Viktor prowled closer. I’d seen every side of my Pakhan, and the look turning his eyes into ash meant he’d stopped caring about Kent. The man had crossed a line. One we were all prepared to defend. “What did you say?”

Kent gulped. “N–Nothing.” He shot a wide-eyed look at me. “I mean. I said something about her being a massage therapist.”

“And?” Fyodor’s fist connected with Kent’s midsection. All the air whooshed out of him, doubling him over.

He gagged and clasped his knees. “Nothing else.”

“Lie.” Viktor grabbed him by the hair and tore his head up. He bent Kent over backward. “Ilya punched you. Which meansyour words were vile. I want to hear them. Say it again. Say it to my face.”

“I said she was willing to bend the rules… and her legs.” Kent shuddered and raised both hands to block his face. Seconds of silence drummed between us. When nothing happened, Kent lowered his hands. “I asked what her price was. Said I might be willing to pay.”

Viktor flung Kent in my direction. “Get him in the office.”

“With pleasure.” I frog-marched Kent down the hall and into the sound-proofed room.

Viktor and Fyodor strolled in behind me, fire and fury driving their steps. Viktor removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, taking his time with every roll. There was a predatory grace to his movements, the tension he built in the nondescript motions. He pierced Kent with a look intense enough to freeze meteors in the atmosphere. “You have made a crude judgment. Twice. First, you thought you could take my money and never repay your debt.”

“I nev—” Kent choked on the words when I slammed a fist into his solar plexus.

“Then, you insult Annie, a woman who was assaulted in your office. It should not matter if she is under contract with me. She is a woman and therefore meant to be protected.” Viktor pinched Kent’s face using his right hand. His left flipped open a butterfly knife and pressed the tip into Kent’s puckered lips. “But she is with me. And she is therefore above any sort of crude words you might think, much less mention.” The knife cut deeper. “Third. You interrupted me.”

Kent stopped breathing. His entire body stiffened, then trembled.

Viktor removed the knife, flicking it once and shoving it into his pocket. Before Kent could relax, Viktor shoved Kentbackward and kicked him in the knee, sending him crashing to the ground, a howl of pain tearing through the room.

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