Page 109 of Brutal Reign
“Absolutely,” I say, dropping to his level. “My business partner, Maxim, has three kids. Damien is six. Alexei is four years old, just like you. And Anna is a toddler.”
“Do they like dinosaurs?” His expression is super serious as if this were the crucial factor in potential friendship.
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “But you can ask. And behind their house is a small pond with dozens of koi fish.”
“Real ones?”
“Of course. You can even feed them. Yarik is in the kitchen. Why don’t you ask him for bread to bring the fish?” I glance atmy watch, noting we have about twenty minutes before we need to leave. “I’ll check on your mother, and we’ll be down soon.”
With that, he races out of the room, down the hallway, his small dress shoes clicking against the hardwood. I watch him go, an unfamiliar ache pressing behind my ribs.
I turn toward the adjoining dressing room, where Hope has been holed up for the last hour sorting through her new wardrobe, handpicked by Dinara. When Hope mentioned that she let my techno-goth hacker shop for her, I nearly broke out in hives, but we’ve both been pleasantly surprised. Dinara is a woman of many talents.
When I enter, the room looks like the aftermath of a high-end boutique explosion, with garment bags and tissue paper everywhere, and clothes draped over every available surface. In the center of the chaos stands Hope. The sight of her stops me in my tracks.
A deep-emerald satin slip dress molds to her curves, the neckline dipping low enough to hint at the swell of her breasts without being overtly sexy. Except on her, everything is sexy. The hemline stops just above her knees, reminding me how much I enjoy those smooth legs wrapped around my waist. Her dark hair is worn down and splayed over her shoulders, a slight curl at the ends.
She looks fucking incredible. And completely flustered.
“I don’t know if this is right,” she says, turning back and forth in front of the mirror. “I mean, it’s beautiful, but I feel overdressed for a Sunday lunch.”
Hope turns back to the mirror, tugging at the neckline self-consciously. Judging by the state of the room, she’s been at this for a while, trying on every single item in here before rejecting it.
“You look perfect,” I assure her.
She sighs but won’t meet my eyes. I know she’s been nervous about this lunch, but now I see how much she’s been holding back. How close she is to breaking apart completely.
I come up behind her and drag her back, so she’s flush against me and can feel every inch of my body pressed to hers. “Talk to me.”
She meets my eyes in the mirror, vulnerability written all over her face. Her hands shake as she grips the edge of the vanity. “I can’t do this, Pavel. I can’t sit at a table with the people responsible for my father’s death and pretend everything’s fine.”
I knew this moment would come, been waiting for it since I told her about this lunch. But seeing the raw pain in her reflection still hits like a punch to the gut.
“Your father’s enemies don’t have to be yours,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Don’t.” She turns to face me directly, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and heartbreak that makes my chest tight. “Don’t make this sound simple when it’s not. These aren’t just enemies; they’re the people who wanted me dead. You said so yourself.”
I clench my teeth, watching her retreat across the room. “That was before I told them the truth. That you were trapped with Simon, that being with him wasn’t your choice. That you weren’t involved in the abduction of Roman’s sister-in-law, Sofiya.”
Something shutters in her expression, but not before I see the flash of guilt in her eyes.
I go very still. “You knew?”
“I didn’t know who it was,” she admits. “But I knew he took someone important to the Syndicate to secure leverage. He told me right before the wedding. I didn’t want any details; I thought it was a bad idea. We ended up fighting about it, and that’s the night…” She stops abruptly, like she caught herself before she could say too much.
I study her face, taking in the way her jaw trembles with suppressed emotion.
“Before he what?” My voice drops to a cold and furious whisper.
“It doesn’t matter.” She swallows hard. “I fought him off.”
The crystal vase full of fresh flowers on the dresser explodes against the wall before I even realize I’ve thrown it. Shards rain down like deadly confetti, and Hope jumps back with a gasp.
“That piece of shit is already dead. He just doesn’t know it yet.” I’m moving before I can think, pacing like a predator planning a hunt. “I’m going to find him, and when I do, I’m going to show him what happens when someone touches what belongs to me.”
“Pavel, stop. Please.” Hope’s voice cuts through the red haze. She reaches for me, her hand trembling as she wraps it around my arm. “Tell me about Sofiya. What did he do to her?”
I force myself to go still under her touch, to let her steady me when everything in me wants to hunt and destroy. That time is coming very soon.
