Page 133 of Bratva and Betrayal: Kirill

“She needs other children, Kirill,” I argue. “She needs normal things. Friends. I had…” I stop and shrug. “I assume I had friends.”

Kirill exhales slowly, dragging a hand down the front of his jacket like he’s already done with this conversation. “You don’t know these people. I have enemies, Sandrine.”

“The mother is at drop-off and pick-up every day,” I say. “It’s an expensive school. I’m sure she was vetted.”

“Then she could have been bought off or blackmailed since then.”

“She looked tired, Kirill,” I push. “Overwhelmed. I know what that’s like.”

Heck, maybe I need a friend, too.

“And that makes it safe?” Kirill adjusts his coat with precise, sexy movements I don’t want to be affected by right now.

“No,” I admit. “But it makes Violet better than the other students who shun this poor little girl because she’s different.”

“You pick up Violet and bring her home.” He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat of him. “I don’t like when we fight,” he says in a low voice. “We had a terrible fight the night you left.”

Because he didn’t want me to leave and I did.

“I’m sorry.” My heart aches, hearing the pain in his voice.

“We lost five years because of it, Sandrine.”

I get his angst, but this is different. He doesn’t understand, and I can’t change his mind. What is the point of all the guards?

“I have to fly to Las Vegas,” he says on a sigh.

But it feels more like a bomb dropping.

“Las Vegas?” My mind races about what can be going on there. “Does this have to do with Elodie?”

“I got a call from Ares,” he says with dread in his voice. “We’re concerned she’s mixed up in something.”

My heart beats wildly. “She’s writing a story about someone there. I’m going with you.”

Kirill barks a laugh. “No. You’re not. Ares is bringing all his guards. Drago and several of our men are coming.”

With that amount of force, it sounds like he’s planning a war. But with who?

He rests his lips on my forehead. “I’ll be home late.”

“You’re not staying the night?”

He scoffs. “Only in a pine box.”

“That’s not funny!” I fold my arms, feeling torn in so many directions.

“Breathe, Sandrine.” Kirill notices immediately and strokes my forehead.

“Please be careful,” I say and kiss him.

“I will. I’ll see you later tonight,” he adds, kissing me back. “I’d prefer it if you were naked in our bed when I got home. I am ravenous for you, moya zhena.”

I shiver and bite my lower lip. “I’d like that.”

Then he’s gone, and for a moment, I stand there, the silence ticking around me.

His warnings echo in my head, but I need autonomy. He needs to learn to trust me and my judgment.