Page 49 of The Bratva Betrayal

Christ. Even annoyed, she’s hard to stop looking at.

“No beautiful woman is worth risking the future,” Ben says calmly.

That much is obvious.

The Volkov operation always comes first. Ben built that into all of us years ago, somewhere among bloodshed and survival and learning the difference between weakness and loyalty.

Family first.

Everything else burns.

“I know,” I answer.

“And Artem?”

My attention stays fixed on Cady while she watches me from across the store.

“What?” I ask quietly.

“Don’t let your brother’s mess become yours.”

Barely a day.

That’s how long I’ve been around her, and instead of catching her slipping or finding proof that she’s still digging into Volkov business, I’ve spent more time noticing the shape of her mouth when she gets annoyed, and the way her tiny fucking shorts she wore this morning nearly made me forget my name.

I know what women like Cady Gallagher are capable of when they want something badly enough. I know even better not to trust someone raised inside another mob family who’s pretending they’re harmless.

None of that stops me from thinking about shoving her against the wall inside one of those fitting rooms just to see if she’d stop looking at me like she wants to fight every time I open my mouth.

“It won’t be a problem,” I reply evenly. “This is light work.”

“Good.” Ben clears his throat. “Sienna wants you over for dinner this week.”

His wife is always inviting me over for dinner. I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

“Friday?”

“Whatever she wants.”

“I’ll see you then. Seven o’clock.”

The line goes dead. I pocket my phone and head back toward the fitting rooms, staring at the curtain Cady disappeared behind.

“Your face is terrifying.”

I glance over at Anna-Ava, smiling at me from one of the velvet chairs outside the dressing area, sipping an overpriced coffee.

“And yet you keep talking to me,” I point out.

“That’s because you’re hot.” She grins shamelessly. “In a terrifying murdery kind of way.”

I stare at her.

“Okay.” She laughs nervously. “Tough crowd.”

The curtain slides open again before I can tell her to fuck off, and every coherent thought in my head disappears for a second.

Red.