Page 23 of Brutal Vows

That just ups the chances of surveillance a hundred-fold…or it cuts it down to zero. I have no clue. I don’t know their operations well enough. But there’s so much money here. Gabi never mentioned her brother is loaded like this. The motorcycle, the helmets, this yacht…everything screams high-tech. He probably doesn’t even have a traditional credit card for a wife to steal and swipe.

I’m out of my depth.

“Do you want dinner? Or is it too early? Maybe you want to change first? I’m sorry about the Vera,” he says with a sly grin over his whiskey glass. “But you have to admit it’s an improvement.”

Screw the Vera. A ruined dress is the least of my worries. Getting out of Ivan’s compound solved one problem, but now it seems my hurdles have tripled. “It’s nothing.” I have a walk-in closet at home filled with similar dresses that I left behind. Traveling light has become my new obsession. “You can buy me a new one.”

“Of course.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and now’s the time to ask that hard question. But I’ve never talked money with a man before. I threw a tantrum at Ivan when he cut me off financially, but ever since that day, Yuri looked after my needs, no questions asked. I knew not to push him for what I really needed: out of the compound, a one-way plane ticket to Saint Petersburg, and a million dollars cash in a suitcase so I can bribe my way in and out of Russia with Masha and more in tow. Yep. that should set me up.

I hate feeling this helpless and powerless. I never saw this day coming. When you grow up as I have, money is never a problem. As a woman in the folds of an organization like the Petrov Bratva, everything is taken care of. By the time you realize it’s a trap, it’s too late: the lifestyle has you gripped by the throat, and letting go would mean bleeding to death.

I should tell Luca. Open up and beg. Chances are he wouldn’t believe me, understand my dilemma, or get the urgency. I glance around the interior where we’re sitting. It’s elegant, all cream leather and wood. Beautiful. Stylish. Probably bugged. I can’t open up, and certainly not here. I have no clue who is watching us or listening in on our conversation. If the Mafia is anything like the Bratva, I’ll have to be doubly cautious.

“Show me around?”

I’d like to know what type of sleeping arrangements I’m going to have to deal with. Luca might have said he didn’t ask me to spread my legs for him, but for all I know, he’d meant ‘not yet.’

I’m not ready for it. Not mentally. Not physically. Despite sitting on that motorbike and relishing every last hum and vibration.

“Sure.” He comes around the bar and indicates for me to follow him. “Let’s go downstairs first. We can enjoy the outside once we’ve left the harbor.”

Blyat. There’s no hope here. He’s going to have me tethered to the hip until we’re out on the open sea, so with a sigh, I follow him down the stairs. More stairways wind down deeper into the belly of the yacht.

“Six cabins, all en suite,” he says as we pass closed doors in the narrow corridor, each with a name on a brass plaque. “Mine’s the one at the end.”

“It’s so big,” I say, as we pause outside his door. “And these names?”

“Matty, Ben, Steph—well, when we are seriously razzing him, we call him Fanny, which he hates—Nicky, and Alex. They’re our nicknames for each other. We used to be six brothers, but our brother Alex died years ago in a shootout.”

“A shootout?” I echo, a slight panic in my voice. Our childhood home got shredded in July, and I’ve seen the repercussions. I still have nightmares.

“Nothing will happen here, princess,” he says as he touches my arm, giving it a soft squeeze, and for whatever reason, his touch is immediately calming. “Trust me, you’re safe. We’re a close-knit band of brothers and keeping each other alive has become an obsession after Alex’s death. You’ll see our security; everything is next level.”

No kidding. I bite my lip, the extent to which I’m fucked slowly sinking in. People don’t get in, and people don’t get out. I’ve swapped one cage for another, more fortified one.

“Okay,” I say on a swallow, but I’m not ready to trust any man yet. Even if this one knows just how to comfort me with a small touch.

“Naming the rooms is a salute to that part of us,” he says, running a fingertip over the engraved letters on his cabin door. “I sometimes imagine we don’t need to deal with all the stuff we do. I imagine we all get to sail off into the sunset together, you know?” He opens the door to the Luca cabin and stands aside so I can walk in first.

A man with dreams, seeking freedom, revealing a bit of himself to me. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. Alex’s death rocked our world. But we’ve gained a sister. It presents me with a bit of a conundrum: do I put Gabi’s name on a door, and if so, who do I kick out?”

I chuckle, trying to ease the tension from my shoulders as I walk inside. “Gabi comes with two small girls, and I doubt Ivan will allow his daughters to run around wild on a boat like this one,” I say over my shoulder. “Not for a long while yet, so I think you’re safe. You have time to figure it out…upgrade to a bigger yacht.”

But then, I take in the cabin and have to suppress a gasp. How do you upgrade from this? A king-size bed doesn’t dominate the space but enhances the feeling of opulence beyond the sitting area and the windows that seem to wrap around the hull. My suitcase and cabin bag look lost where they’re propped in one corner, and my purse has been placed on the nightstand.

Luca brushes my elbow with his fingers as he walks past me. His touch shrinks the vast space, reminding me how we’ve become even more isolated, finally alone in a bedroom. The suppressed desire still flowing through my body like an undercurrent surfaces again. Fuck my life. I can’t afford or need this distraction.

“This door goes to the bathroom,” he says, pointing to a closed panel. “And there’s a minibar here if you feel like a drink.” He leans down and opens the fridge. “Fruit, some cookies, chocolates.” He shoots me a grin. “Some nuts and crisps. You can hide out here until we’re in Boston if you want.”

Hide out? Alone? Without him constantly feeding this buzz in my veins? Yes, please.

No, please.

It’s impossible to crave something so quickly, unless he is a drug. Just a playboy. He is nothing but a playboy, knowing exactly how to arouse me.