Page 90 of Scarlet Vows
“I know that,” I say, barely able to keep the irritation from my voice. “I’m aware who and what people are around me.”
I stop before I say something I’ll regret.
Honestly, I feel like I need to prove myself to Demyan as much as I do to my own men. Apparently no one thinks I have it in me to be pakhan.
“Okay, I just want you to be smart in this.”
“I am.”
When we end the call, Albert gives a soft bark, and I agree with him.
I’ve been working for Demyan for so long that perhaps he’s used to me being second best. Not quite leader material.
And now that we’re equal—I’m running his bratva and my own—perhaps Demyan doesn’t believe I have what it takes to lead my own bratva. Or lead anything at all.
Demyan wouldn’t ever say that, but the idea doesn’t help. And it fucking bothers me.
I’m still brooding when Alina appears in the prettiest blue dress I’ve ever seen. With her gold jewelry and her hair piled loosely on her head, she’s the epitome of romantically sexy. It’s so utterly her that I fucking tremble.
“I put things in your room. I hope you don’t mind. Just in case…”
“Great minds,” I say.
She smiles. “I locked my door. I figure we leave Albert in your room with the door half closed so he can come out if he wants, but he can also be safe.”
She picks him up and takes him into my room. I follow.
Alina puts him down right when Santo arrives.
I hold out my hand. “Let’s get this show on the road,malyshka.”
Santo is jovial and hawk-eyed.He hands a bottle of expensive Amarone del Valpolicella to Alina and a bottle of Jewel of Russia Ultra vodka to me. Svetlana takes them with courtesy, and I drape my arm around Alina as I invite him in.
“Welcome to our home,” I say.
I temper my affectionate behavior with her to a level I hope she’s comfortable with. A little touching, but only one brush of lips on her cheek as we move into the drawing room, where the charcuterie is set up and an open bottle of wine waits.
After pouring the wine, I hand them out and tell Santo to sit.
“You’re a lucky man, Belov,” Santo mutters, his eyes on Alina as she takes her seat next to me.
“I’m aware,” I say.
“You know, if you screw her over,” Santo adds, his voice full of lightheartedness, but his eyes flinty, “I’ll not only kill you, but I’ll be waiting in the shadows to swoop in and save her.”
I meet his gaze, holding it as my stomach clenches. He wants a response, so I don’t give him one. He can try. He’ll fail. I’m not that insecure.
“I don’t need a man to save me,” Alina assures him.
Santo smiles widely. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right man yet.”
What the actual fuck? I almost snap the wine stem I’m holding. Is this man for real?
He’s blatantly flirting with my wife in front of me. In my house.
Logically, I know he’s testing my relationship with Alina, seeing if we crack, and just as logically, I know we’re only pretending. But he doesn’t.
And testing us is way out of line.
