Page 34 of The Brigadier

“The life of anyone in the mafia.”

He exhaled as if exhausted. “Drink your drink. It’s time to get you settled. We’ll talk more tomorrow, although I will have at least one meeting I must attend. I assure you that you will be heavily guarded.”

“Meeting. Is that a cue for heavy, violent interrogation of the man who followed me?”

His smile was slow, sly, and sent a chill down my spine.

“You are far too knowledgeable about the way of the Bratva, my dear.”

I nodded, taking another gulp of my drink to try to calm my nerves.

“One question,” he asked a few seconds later. “Did I hear correctly that your cousin warned you about your father?”

“Yes. It kind of came out of the blue. She was trying to warn me personally about continuing to use my mother’s maiden name in business.”

“The reason?”

“Because my father and his world were hated.”

“Interesting. I may need to talk with her.”

“I don’t know if she’ll talk to you. She’s very… eccentric.”

His grin lit up his chiseled face, my core throbbing more than before. “She’ll talk to me. I assure you of that.”

“You’re not going to hurt her. I won’t allow it!” I could swear the man seemed amused.

“I’m not in the habit of hurting women, Chantel. However, she will need to tell me everything she’s heard. But there are other aspects of the situation to deal with first.”

I could sense his rage increasing. But he was so protective I felt as if he was becoming possessive.

Obsessive.

And I liked it.

“I have a father who doesn’t keep secrets. I hope you’ll be the same.” I wasn’t certain why I stated the words other than I had a feeling the man sitting a few feet away, the one that kept my pulse high and my pussy wet, was going to be a more permanent part of my life.

Or so I hoped.

What did that make me?

A very bad girl.

CHAPTER 12

“Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people.”

—Carl Jung

Nikolay

I couldn’t remember where I’d heard the quote, but it was more than appropriate at this moment. I’d tried to become lighter, freer. To be someone who could enjoy life more but as always, something dragged me back to reality.

Being in the Bratva was almost like an imprisonment for life. Although I wasn’t a fool. That life was full of riches and man toys, huge homes and private jets.

And often beautiful women.

In this case, the woman who’d sparked more than just the need to protect hadn’t left my mind in days. I hadn’t caught a wink of sleep during the night. I’d continued to envision her rounded bottom, the way the curve and heat felt to my palm.