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Chapter Fifteen
Kirill
I tap my glass against the table.
The sound echoes through the dimly lit restaurant.
My lips still carry the faint tang of vodka, and the air is thick with cigarette smoke and the scent of dirty money. I glance around, taking in the familiar faces.
Bratva - most of them, at any rate.
Berezovka may be a restaurant, but it’s also a front for our kind of business. A place where no questions are asked. The other diners all seem to be deep in conversation, their voices low and hushed.
I check my watch for the third time in the last five minutes. Dima is late, and I’m growing increasingly impatient. He insisted that we meet here instead of meeting at my house, but he wouldn’t explain why. It’s not like him to be so secretive, and it’s making me uneasy.
I run a hand through my hair, pushing back the strands that have fallen onto my forehead. My mind races with possibilities, each one more ominous than the last. Has something gone wrong? Is there trouble brewing within our ranks? Or is this about Tiana? I know I’ve been distracted by her these past weeks. But it can’t be helped when her father’s business dealings hang over me like a bad smell.
She’s nothing like that fucker, though. She’s sweet. Fiery. All in a way that I find fucking irresistible. And the way that she’s bonded with my mother… Tiana Avants is a good woman. I hate the sadness that clouds her eyes when she thinks I’m not looking. Even more, I hate the fact that I’m at the center of it. But releasing her is not an option. Not only because I still haven’t figured out what her father got me involved in, but also because I have made up my mind.
She will be my wife.
She will come to accept it.
Especially when this friend of hers arrives to keep her company. I just need to make sure her presence doesn’t lead to any complications. I’ll tell Dima to step things up with security.
I shift in my seat. All these thoughts of Tiana are sending jolts of desire through me. I can still remember the way she looked when I took her for the first time; her eyes were wide, with a blend of defiance and pleasure. She was fucking intoxicating. But that was weeks ago now, and aside from that smart mouth of hers, she hasn’t tried anything funny since then. So why would Dima want to discuss her with me here and now? If that’s even what he plans to speak to me about.
My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar figure entering the restaurant. Dima looks as imposing as ever in his leather jacket and jeans. He spots me across the room and makes his way over to my table, his footsteps heavy on the worn carpet.
“Boss,” he says gruffly, taking a seat opposite me without bothering to ask how I am or what I’ve been up to since he last saw me. “Sorry for being late.”
I nod, not wanting to waste any more time on pleasantries than necessary. “What is it you wanted to discuss?” I glance at my watch yet again. “Make it quick.”
Dima leans forward, his eyes fixed on mine as he speaks in a low voice that only I can hear over the noise of the restaurant. “I’ve been worried about you, bratok.”
My brows pull together. “Worried?”
“This woman… Tiana-” He stops when a waitress pulls up beside our table. The young blonde looks at him expectantly. “Sto gramm,” he tells her, then waits for her to leave to get his drink.
“Go on.” I’m still waiting for him to get to the point, although a part of me is already boiling, wanting to tell him that Tiana is none of his fucking business.
Dima runs a hand over his cropped hair, then pulls in a breath. “You’ve been distracted, boss. You haven’t been yourself.”
I stiffen in my seat. “Not myself? What the fuck are you saying, mudak? Who the fuck would I be?”
“You know what I mean. You spend your free time with her. You have been skipping training sessions. And…” He looks up at me as if he’s afraid to say the next thing on his mind. “You haven’t been paying attention during briefings.”
“I have been focusing on this fuck-up her father left behind,” I grunt. “We still haven’t gotten to the bottom of it.”
“Maybe you would have if you had been more persuasive with the girl.”
“Persuasive?” I release my grip on my glass when I realize I’m clutching it too hard.
“Boss, look.” He glances at me again, as if choosing his words carefully. “You are the best in the interrogation room. You will do anything to get to the truth. Fingers broken, nails ripped off, teeth pulled out and-”
“I get the point. What are you getting at?”
“Did you do that to the Avants girl?” He splays his hands.
