Page 58 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

Viktoria.

The implication suddenly nestles in my gut, taking my usual bout of nausea and turning it into a menacing threat.

My own husband is sizing me up. He’s trying to figure out where we stand after what he just witnessed, mulling me over like I’m entirely unpredictable.

Like a loose cannon.

Like I might be a threat.

And I can’t help but wonder if I am or not.

Chapter Fifteen

Pavel

Did Liya really just fucking do that?

In all the years I’ve known my most trusted brigadier, I’veneverseen his guard crack in such a manner. Liya clearly put her knowledge to the test with what Viktoria had taught her. And the way she did it made me look like I didn’t have a handle on the situation.

She’s looking into my eyes, her face a carefully chosen demeanor that expresses indifference. Did Viktoria teach her that, too?

Or is she spending too much time with me?

She blinks, her countenance shifting into curiosity.

I tuck my hand casually into the pocket of my blazer. “What was that?”

Her expression doesn’t shift. She stares at me for a moment longer as if she can’t quite determine whether or not I just asked her a question.

When I cock my head to the right, she seems to break out of her self-induced trance.

“We needed to act,” she replies smoothly. “So, I acted.”

No explanation accompanies her response. No excuses. No stammering over phrases.

She stands tall, holds my gaze, and doesn’t say another damn word.

I can’t tell if I feel impressed or annoyed. That kind of behavior is easily found in me, the strong-headed pakhan who can think on his feet without allowing emotions to influence his decisions. I’m in charge because I’m capable of taking the correct course. If I let anything else determine my actions, then I’m failing my Bratva.

And Liya just proved she’s capable of doing the exact same thing.

Liya turns away to sit at the conference table. She bows over the list of potential informants, returning repeatedly to the one name that seems to have impressed her the most: Captain Sharp. Her nail traces around the notepad as she looks between pages.

She’s keeping herself busy, I observe.It’s what I would do, too.

With a casual expression, I circle my desk and peer out the window. Everything looks fine from up here. But down on the street, there’s a guy bleeding profusely on the leather of one of my cars.

The leather will survive.

Kiril might not.

A knock echoes at the door. Stepan walks in and stands at a mid-point between me and Liya. “He’s in the basement, pakhan.”

“Has Dr. Atlee arrived yet?”

He shakes his head. “She won’t be here for another ten minutes.”

“Make sure he’s comfortable.”

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