Page 108 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
“It’s me,” Ava says after the longest pause while she sips her whiskey. “For some reason, Romanov’s right. He always warned me to just leave the bratva to others.”
Cal laughs. “Or let him run it.” But my brother stubs out his cigarette and grabs the back of an empty armchair in the living room. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is someone—Romanov, the cartel, or someone else—wants to cause trouble, and a little so-called nothing bratva that deals in some small but strategic smuggling routes is perfect for that.”
He’s right. Whoever controls it could control a lot of potential money, a lot of potential power.
It’s been kept small—that we know of—but with a protected client list, it becomes a thing to be coveted, like the invite to a special club.
And no one’s ever had trouble when they use Volkov routes. I know that much.
“The Semtex bomb? The Lev group?” I ask.
From the other sofa, Torin says, “Could be something, could be nothing. There’s a lot of Semtex being moved right now. It’s a commodity for those who like that kind of thing. We don’t deal in it because we don’t play with the arms arena, not serious arms, anyway. But the Lev group… they might be in that game.”
“We won’t have real answers until we get into the bratva office,” I say.
“Is there a reason you have to wait for an invite?” Cal asks.
Ava looks up. “I don’t think so.”
I smile. “We’ll make it a family event.”
“Perfect.” Cal straightens up and holds out his hand to Lucie. “Tomorrow morning we’ll all get started. Get some sleep, everyone. I won’t let anyone in this family be a target. And that includes you, Ava.”
After everyone heads out, it’s just me and Ava.
Arnold peeks his head in and clicks over to her, putting his head in her lap. Which immediately makes Clawzilla leap up on the sofa and dive onto her lap so he can put his paws on the dog’s nose.
Her reaction is like a whole pile of bees landed on her and she can’t move in case they sting.
It does something to me, shifts things. “Have you never had pets, sweet thing?”
“No.”
“What kind of fucking life have you led?”
“A normal one,” she says, but I just shake my head and kneel down, petting Arnold’s soft fur.
“No,” I say, “you haven’t. Someone just tried to kill us and you’re cool about it. You almost lose your shit about tiny animals, which is fair, but you remember the license plate number. You scale the sides of buildings and build bombs. Who the fuck are you? Me?”
She shudders, but there’s a smile on her face, soft and there and mine. I’ll take it.
We’re not friends. We’ll never be that. There’s too much volatile chemistry. And this is as far from love as anything I can think of. But I don’t think I hate her. I might even like her a little.
Or at the very least, I’m beginning to respect her.
“The animals are nice and comforting. And I’m guessing we’re getting two more. You rescued them. And we’re going to name them and take care of them together.”
She closes her eyes. “Nope. I’m not someone to be trusted with things like that.” Ava breathes out. “What are we going to do?”
“You’re going to act like the fucking Pakhan, and I’m going to act like your partner, and we’ll go in there.” Her eyes snap open wide. “Fuck, we’ll go and be a power couple on an evening out. Drop by with the family. The Murphys as a core unit are unstoppable.”
She doesn’t answer.
I lean in and kiss her, running my finger along the top of her dress.
She tastes like bad ideas and insanely good times. She’s sweet with that bite of danger and whiskey.
Clawzilla growls. I break the kiss and look down.
