Page 77 of Sins He Taught Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 3)

TWO DAYS LATER

The days after fucking Victoria in the kitchen are rife with tension. Every time I see her around the house, my cock hardens at once. It’s painful walking around damn near to bursting with the desire to rip her clothes off and take her at every minute of the day.

I try to bury my libido with work. I double the guards at all our businesses that border Albanian territory, expecting a vengeance attack any minute. But it never comes. Even when I come to tour my empire in person—something I do from time to time to take up collections and remind this city just who the fuck is in charge of it—they don’t attack, don’t try to catch me out in the open.

I double the guards at home, too. Whoever the hell came for Victoria was either a CPS agent in serious need of professional development, or an imposter looking to penetrate my mansion’s security. I don’t like it either way. I don’t like that the hat he was wearing hid his face from the cameras, too, making it impossible to identify him. I’ve taken to keeping a pistol on me at all times, just in case that smug fuck decides to show his face again. I wish I’d have caught him with his hands on her. I would’ve ripped him apart limb from limb.

All of that—Victoria, Brahim, the mere thought of someone laying so much as a finger on her—is bubbling at the surface of my mind when I hear the doorbell ring. I’m in my office, so I glance at the security cameras. Whoever it is has their head down.

Frowning, I make my way downstairs. One of the guards is already on his way to answer the caller, but I wave him off.

I’ll handle this myself.

The last person I expect to see when I open the door is Chris Walter, but that’s exactly who’s standing on my front porch. I look him up and down, almost impressed that he’s ballsy enough to show his face around here.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I need to talk to you. It’s important, Morozov.”

The blood between us is bad, so for him to swallow his pride and show up on my doorstop is quite impressive. I could slam the door in his face and get back to my morning breakfast, but instead, I step aside and let him enter.

He follows me up to my office. As he closes the door, I say, “What do we need to talk about?”

“I want my job back,” he says.

A slow grin spread across my face and I lean back in my chair. “Now what could possibly make you think that I’d work with you again after the shit you put this family through before?”

He clenches his jaw like he’s fighting to keep his composure. It’s a hilarious sight to see, truly. The high and mighty Chris Walter asking for another chance.

“Look, I’ve had some time to think about everything. Dmitry dying in that explosion really made me realize how close we all used to be. It was like a family. We were both asses, but I was the one that acted holier-than-thou, and—”

“Cut the shit, Christopher. You need more money, don’t you?”

He cuts his eyes to the window across the room. “Yeah.”

I sit forward in my chair. “You seem to know an awful lot about Dmitry’s death,” I say, glaring at him. “For all I know, you could be the one that did this to him.”

“I know about Dmitry because I work at a fucking hospital, Morozov. EMTs showed up with his body after the explosion that night and they briefed me on what happened. They thought he might have a chance, and I tried to save him, but I couldn’t.”

I don’t trust Chris as far as I can throw him, even on a good day. “Let me see your leg.”

“What?”

“I shot the bastard in the leg before he got away. If you’re not the vigilante, then both of your legs should be fine. So, show me.”

Irritated with me, Chris reaches for his pants and lifts both legs up, turning so I can see them. I can’t argue with facts. His skin is flawless, not a bullet hole in sight. I don’t know whether I’m more relieved or annoyed. Chris is marked off my list, but that makes the list smaller and I still have no idea who could be behind this.

“I told you,” he says, shaking his head and dropping the fabric of his pants. “I don’t have anything to do with the guy causing all this trouble. I just need some money, and it kind of looks like the vigilante is targeting you and your family. I’d be useful.”

I hate to admit it, but he’s made another good point. Out of all the doctors I kept in my pocket, Chris was the most talented. It also didn’t hurt that his judge father could keep us out of trouble if things ever got sticky.

“I’ll think about it,” I say, sighing deeply. “Keep your phone on you. I’ll call if I need your help with something.”

Chris smiles. “Sounds good.”

“Now, get the hell out of my house.”

I watch him turn and leave. When I’m alone, all I can do is shake my head. I’m tempted to book a vacation and get the hell out of this place. Between Chris, the Albanians, and the Justice Killer, I need to disappear and just breathe.

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