Page 112 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
Otherwise, I’d have found another way to get what I want. A Russian man I could control. I’m sure there are soldiers in Romanov’s Bratva, or perhaps in the Volkov camp, who’d want to marry the Pakhan and get power for himself.
Instead, I went to the enemy, to the one I thought was a member of the family who killed Stan.
I close my eyes. Seamus is right. My heart’s limited and twisted down into caring about my legacy. Because why else wouldn’t I try to get Tatiana and run to safety?
Enemy. The word’s more complex than I imagined. I believed Seamus the moment he told me he didn’t kill Stan. Maybe because he didn’t seem the type to lie. Maybe because I knew Stan’s death in a bar fight had to be partly his fault. The police had called it tragic, something I didn’t even consider.
But I also believed Seamus when he told me they want what Volkov is. And out of everyone involved, I think he can see the potential, ways to expand it and make it more dynamic, to carve a few more paths, and build a better, more solid network.
He wants that.
So does his brother Callahan.
My lips twist.
Enemy still fits.
“Stop it,” I whisper as I walk into the bathroom to shower. I step under the hot spray and inhale the clean scent of the shower gel as it froths in my hands. It’s nothing like the smell I’ve become so familiar with. And when I dry off and dress, I pick up his cold pillow and breathe him in, letting it infuse me.
Tonight, we’re setting up a small event at the Volkov house. But there are two. The house where we spent weekends, the place Mama loved, in Bay Ridge. Dad had an office there. My uncle took that over and used it as his home, where he’d run some of his gambling games.
But the main office Dad worked from was the Manhattan townhouse. That’s where the operations of the bratva run from, the inner workings of Volkov Shipping.
That’s where we’d be when my parents had events. And that’s where Dad and Elena lived.
Because most of the precious memories of Mama, for him and me, were in Bay Ridge.
It’s the perfect venue for tonight.
Enough people get invited and no one declined to attend. I smooth my hands down the front of my red dress and then take the stairs, following the scent of coffee in the air.
Seamus is the only one in the kitchen. Well, the only human. The animals sun themselves in front of the glass wall that lets in the sun and warms the cool air. The chill emanating from my so-called husband is impervious to the heat, though.
He’s at the table working on his laptop, a cup of steaming coffee to his right. I walk over to the intimidating machine and make myself a cup. Then I lean against the counter, silently willing him to talk.
Seamus doesn’t even look at me, and every sense inside flares at his indifference.
I glare at him, reality returning with a thump and the familiar rise of anger. I wait for the hate but it doesn’t follow. In its placeis something more complicated that I definitely don’t want to acknowledge.
“The kitten and puppy are doing better,” he suddenly says. “But Dr. Tan wants to keep them until tomorrow.”
I sip my coffee. His words soothe something in me, but I fail with a response that’s adequate. So I just ignore what he said. “What about tonight? I think we should visit the Manhattan townhouse.”
“If the safe is empty?” he asks after a long pause.
“Then we hit the Bay Ridge mansion. But… I think it’s the townhouse. Launceston said Volkov’s office. Not Dad’s. It’ll be there. Except I’m not sure I’ll know the combination. He mentioned a code to the lawyer and claimed I’d know it when the time came.”
I swallow hard, clutching the mug. “Maybe it’s engraved on the crest?”
He flashes a cold smile, and I don’t know how we ended up right back here, like last night never happened. “You’re not getting it, not until this is all over.”
“Seamus, you told me I’d get it when I was honest with you.”
“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.” Then he stands up, closes his computer, and picks it up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to take care of. Declan’ll be your companion today, should you choose to leave the house. Be dressed and ready by seven.”
My heart plummets. “My prison guard?”
The gulf widens as his gaze shifts over me. “You’ll have a dress for tonight. And call Declan’s presence whatever you want, I don’t really care.”
