Page 28 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
SEVEN
seamus
Ava.
Her name is Ava.
I sit on my sofa at home, Clawzilla creeping over me to curl up on my chest. Arnold hops up next to me, resting his snout on my arm.
Ava.
I slowly pet both animals, closing my eyes, willing the last of my headache away. It has less to do with the whack over my head that knocked me out for a few seconds—or minutes—I honestly don’t know which, and more to do with the one hour of sleep I got afterward.
When I got home, I went into Tor’s study to go onto the Dark Web.
I couldn’t find an Ava, but I didn’t exactly expect her to be a Romanov.
I don’t know what I think she is.
But after I came to, she was talking to some guy about her bratva and whatever it’s called—some parts of my memory are still hazy—I don’t remember the name, so it must be small.
“Fuck. Valkry, Volov? It started with aV…” And wasn’t the dude talking about smuggling routes?
That’s the thing I’m latching on to. I know Callahan’s looked into everything, chosen our paths and friendships and alliances with care. He wants to rule within the confines we’ve set, strengthen the ties with our allies overseas, and when it comes time to expand, like now, to do it by taking careful steps.
I rub my head and Clawzilla growls through his purr as the sudden movement disturbs his perch.
“Sorry, furball from hell.”
He yawns at me.
Whoever this Ava is, she’s interesting, and I’ll take interesting over likable any day. Because I don’t know where interesting leads.
Probably nowhere. I’m not sure why I care, why I followed her, or why I’m risking involving us in something that isn’t our concern.
The one job we had was to keep the wedding celebration going without any murderous party crashers from showing up, and we did that.
If you don’t count Ava.
But she’s inner circle, because Romanov would have seen me with her and he didn’t say a thing.
Still, I like answers. I want to know what the crest is and why she climbed down a fucking building from the outside to take it. Then why she went back in.
The questions are the same ones I started with.
Only now I’ve been balls deep in her and it was an explosive, unexpected experience.
The sex wasn’t unexpected—that was inevitable since the moment she kissed me and dared me to feel her up—but how fucking good that primal bathroom fuck was… that was the unexpected part.
Maybe hate does that. Because she definitely hates the Murphy family, and I don’t know why.
Until I’d tackled her, I didn’t know she existed.
She knew about us, though. And made no effort to hide her disgust.
The venom in her voice still stings my flesh.
But yet… when she checked my pulse, when she touched me, it was with a softness that was at odds with the hatred.
