Page 3 of The Bratva's Secret Baby

Alex on the other hand, seemed quite fidgety and uncomfortable. Learning body language was a skill my father made sure I learned since I was five. It was a survival skill.

I furrowed my brows, my fingers steeped beneath my chin as I completed the rest of the video. “What’s this?” I asked, my eyes staring at the screen.

“Her name is Rosanne West,” Fyodor answered. “She’s been snooping around, asking questions about us, The Circle.Last night, she tried to get details about the organization from Alex.”

“Did he tell her anything?”

“Nyet [No].” He took the phone from me. “Alex was able to get her to talk though. She knows a lot, way too much, about us.”

Hmm.

Hearing that a woman was brave enough not only to snoop around the Russian mafia but also to try to get firsthand information, piqued my interest. Either she was really brave or really stupid. Either way, she challenged death.

“How much does she know?”

“Too much. I heard from Alex that she has documented evidence against us.”

He paused. “What should we do with her, boss? It looks like she’s a lawyer determined to bring down the organization.”

“Take us down? She’s most likely fresh out of Law School, trying to land her first actual case!” I had to chuckle. This pretty, little girl, what was she thinking?

“Boss, she has hard evidence. She might have someone helping her if you know what I mean.”

Fuck!

I sure was twisted and fucked up in the head, and I had a lot of blood on my hands. But women were off-limits, only cowards would hurt women.

But this woman—Rosanne—she left me no choice. If she had as much evidence against The Circle as Fyodor said she did, then she needed to be silenced.

She is too much trouble. But I had to meet her first, I had to find out more about her.

“This woman, where is she?”

Fyodor looked toward the club’s entrance. “She’s in the club tonight. I say we get her right now and kill her. What do you think, boss?”

I contemplated for a moment. Fyodor was right.

Opening my glove box, I took out my new 0.45 caliber and black gloves.

“Let’s go.”

We both slid out of the car and wandered into the club.The club was electric with music, the beat booming from the speakers in the corner.

God, I hate that volume.

I hated the smell of sweat and alcohol even more as I weaved through the crowd of people dancing. Glittering disco balls spun above my head as I let my eyes wander around the dance floor. Through the neon-streaked light, a petite figure spinning to the roaring music caught my attention. Her hair fluttered in waves as she threw back her head and laughed as if she had no worries in the world.

The room vibrated with energy, and she absorbed it all, like an angel among mortals, bursting with life.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I watched her dance.

She wore a black dress hinting at her attractive curves without showing an inch of naughtiness, and yet my cock ached with the need to make her mine.

“That’s her, boss,” Fyodor interrupted my growing unholy thoughts as if I hadn’t been looking at her from the second we walked into the club.

“I see her,” I hissed. A thought crossed my mind, one quite different from the thoughts that followed me into this club minutes ago. I tapped Fyodor on the shoulder, knowing damn well he’d be stunned by what I was about to tell him.

“Wait outside,” I said, my eyes lingering on Rosanne. “I’ll take care of this.”

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