Page 162 of Wicked Proposal
That word lands heavy.
“That’s a bit premature,” Anton laughs awkwardly, aware of how dark my glare has turned. “But sure, I suppose that’ll come, too.”
“Of course it will,” Slavik grumbles. “That’s the whole point.”
I don’t respond. But inside, something twists horribly. Rage, loss. Guilt.
Mia.
I’m playing a game with her, too. With her goddamn life. She deserves better than that.
In another life, perhaps, I could have given her more. I could have leaned in on Friday night, stolen that kiss off her lips, walked her upstairs. Let her put the kid to bed before taking her to bed, no tucking in involved.
I could have stayed the night. Woken up to the scent of half-burnt pancakes in the morning. To afamily.
I could have given her everything.
But I had a family once already. It was taken from me, ripped from this world in the cruelest way.
And I won’t rest until themudakiwho did it are six feet underground.
Can you really do it?It’s the cold, dark voice inside me, questioning my every move.Can you really stomp on your feelings for her, when you don’t even know what they are?
Can you stop caring about Mia Winters?
I have no fucking clue.
I tell myself I’ll protect her when the time comes. That I’ve saved her once. That I can do it again.
It’s the only thing that keeps me sane.
“C’mon, people,” Maks yawns. “Less chattering, more playing. I’m dying of old age here.”
“Before Rurik and Slavik?” Kazimir grins. “That’s a feat.”
“Laugh all you want,” Slavik sighs. “But if I died tomorrow, I’d die without regrets. I’ve built my legacy.”
“As have I.” Rurik puts down his cards, still covered. “Now, ourpakhanwill.” He squeezes out a raucous laugh. “Let’s just hope the girl isn’t taken off the board before she’s done her duty.”
The room stills. Silence falls like a guillotine.
My chair scrapes back with a scream. I rise, slow and deliberate, every muscle tight with rage.
“Say that again,” I order.
Rurik scoffs and doubles down. “It’s not like it’s a secret. You’re still in the crosshairs of your old man’s murderers. They won’t let you sire an heir without taking a shot at your lady. In fact, they’ve already tried.” He downs the rest of his vodka. “It’s not a question of ‘if,’ but ‘when.’”
“Careful, brother.”
“I’m just telling it like it is. Sure, she’s a spitfire and all, but even she won’t survive a bullet to the skull.” A cold, piercing laughechoes in the room. “The least she can do is shit out a son before—blargh!”
The punch leaves my body before I’m even aware of my arm moving.
The table jolts, cards fluttering to the floor. Rurik’s body hits the ground with a dull thud.
“No one touches her.” My voice cuts through the smoke. “As long as I draw breath, no one will so much aslookat her wrong. If you imply otherwise again, Rurik, I’ll take that breath from you myself.”
His face drains of color. He sees it now—that I’m not bluffing. Beneath the title ofpakhanis still the man who carved his empire out of the blood and bones of his dead family.
