Page 196 of Sinful Desires
But with a fucker like him, as head of the Silas, I was sure the real story was a hell of a lot darker than any rumor floating around.
Lazzio looked up from his glass. “No kids tonight?”
The Russians shook their heads.
“Caia’s friend Valeria has them for the weekend.”
Mikhaïl threw back the rest of his vodka. “Mine are in Moscow with my mother-in-law.”
The orchestra played some waltz that sounded expensive. A sea of white dresses spun across marble floors as the scent of roses and champagne clung to the air, sweet enough to rot your teeth.
The idea of kids had never stuck in my head. They screamed too much, broke too many things, needed too damn much. I never saw the point.
Scarlett moved through the crowd like the world belonged to her, and everyone else was just lucky to watch. Her laugh cracked through the music, bright and raw, and I swore every man in the room looked.
But she didn’t look back. She burned too brightly to see the ones catching fire in her orbit.
Including me.
And for a second, the thought of a smaller version of her didn’t make me want to run. It almost made me ache for it.
Which was fucking terrifying.
“What about you, LeRoy?” Alexsei asked, sipping his vodka. “Must be hell having a job that chains you to a superstar’s shadow twenty-four seven. No time to jerk off, let alone rest.”
Lazzio snorted into his drink, casting me a look. “Ignore him. He blackmailed his wife into marrying him by threatening to kill her grandma. Real romantic shit.”
Alexsei shrugged, unbothered. “If I’d waited for a yes, I’d still be fucking waiting.”
“You’re one to talk, Lazzio,” Mikhaïl said, grinning. “Didn’t your wife hold you at gunpoint?”
“She did,” Lazzio said, toasting the memory. “Got hard the second the safety clicked off. Married her the next month.”
“And you,” Alexsei turned to Mikhaïl, “didn’t you kidnap your wife and keep her locked up for a month?”
He chuckled. “She once held a knife to my throat. Now she cries if I don’t kiss her goodnight. Pretty sure I got Stockholmed.”
I watched them all, these well-dressed psychos with wives too sharp to break and kids who would probably rule countries one day.
And I stood there, the only bastard in the room who couldn’t reach for what was already mine.
Not in front of them.
Not where eyes could see and mouths would talk.
My eyes swept the room again until they locked onto the person I’d been waiting for.
Lazzio followed my line of sight, gave a small nod, then bumped his shoulder into mine as I moved.
Three of my men were planted inside tonight, blending in with the suits and smug faces, all focused on one thing: keeping Scarlett safe while I handled the filth crawling in from the edges.
He slipped out of the ballroom, took the long way through the marble hallway, then ducked into the pool area. Kept going until he stopped at the balcony. The city sprawled beneath him, the sun bleeding out across Los Angeles.
“I knew you’d follow me.”
My lips curved.
Good.
