Page 83 of Emerald Vices

His face rises up to hover over mine. I can see myself reflected in the bright silver of his eyes. “You like when I defend you?”

My eyes flutter. “I… love it.”

“Do you know why I do it?”

I bite my lip. “Tell me.”

“Because you’re mine.” The words send a shiver down my spine like I knew they would. “And anyone who tries to hurt you will suffer for it.”

He works his hand between my legs and a finger into my wetness. I devolve into a writhing mess beneath him. Everything from there is a blur of sensation and heat, pressure and breath—and the underlying bedrock of it all is Andrey.

So solid.

So real.

So there.

34

ANDREY

There are three names on the piece of paper Shura hands me.

Anatoly.

Vasily.

“Efrem?” I try to hand the paper back to him. There must be a mistake. “What the fuck, Shura?”

He crosses his arms tightly. “You told me to keep my eyes and ears open and vet the men. Those are the names. I stand by them.”

“Efrem is part of the inner circle.”

“His father was on the plane with Slavik when he flew out of here,” Shura reminds me. “Or have you forgotten?”

I rise to my feet. “I forget nothing.”

My hands flex, the paper crumbling in my palm. I’m so fucking close to upending my own damn desk. It’s one thing to lose lesser vory to Slavik—it’s a whole different ball game losing my most trusted men to his cause.

“Are they all on the grounds?” I grit out.

“All of them.”

“Send them in.”

“Together?”

I make a split-second decision. “Together.”

Shura slips out of my office as I turn to the windows. The night is dark and quiet except for the rustling of trees. Leonty is outside Natalia’s door on duty. She was sleeping when I left a few hours ago. It took all my willpower to disentangle myself from her arms.

Only to leave and deal with this shit.

When Shura returns a few minutes later, accompanied by the three traitors, only Efrem seems bothered by being summoned. His eyes are puffy with sleep and he doesn’t even try to hide the scowl on his face.

“Who’s making trouble now, boss?” Efrem asks. “Slavik or the Rostov fucker?”

My heart clenches as I search their faces for signs of what they’ve done. “Sit down, all of you.”