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My throat knotted and I suddenly became aware of how vulnerable Emmy was in front of Mikhail. He could use her against me. He’d already used her against me. I wished I thought of this issue before I insisted on keeping her by my side. Unable to do anything else, I nodded my head. “Yes, this is the girl.”
Emmy’s head jerked up and looked at me. I glanced at her, curious about what caught her attention. “What?”
She shot a quick, cautious look at Mikhail and blushed. “Uh…nothing, I just, uh, recognized some of those words in Russian.”
Against my will, a pleased grin broke out across my face. “You been learning more Russian, malyshka?”
She blushed again and nudged me in the ribs with her small fist. “Maybe a little Duolingo, but I recognized the word girl from when you say…” she trailed and turned her face back into my shoulder, clearly embarrassed at having interrupted us.
“Fuck,” Mikhail spit out in Russian and sighed heavily.
I pulled her against me a little more tightly and I looked at him suspiciously. “What?”
“You’d clearly be of no use to me in Moscow. Not with what I’m seeing here.” He nodded his head toward Emmy.
My chest swelled as I stared at him in growing astonishment. Was this all it took? Was it really this easy? “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” He suddenly switched to English and said, “You agreed to move to Moscow and take over.” He said the words to me, but his gaze was trained on Emmy.
Predictably, her body stiffened against me. Her head jerked up and her eyes bugging out. “Move to Moscow? What? What are you talking about?” she barked at Mikhail, with no consideration for the fact that he was Pakhan of the Moscow Bratva, then turned to me. “What is he talking about, Ivan?” Her voice trembled slightly, and tears were starting to gather in her gorgeous eyes. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
Her arm wrapped around my bicep, as though she could hold me here by the force of her own strength. I glanced at Mikhail, wondering what the fuck he was up to. “I made a deal with Mikhail that if he helped me take out your father, I’d go back to Moscow with him.”
She took a step back from me and I felt the loss immediately. Her face was frozen with betrayal and fear. “What?”
I shot a quick, irritated look at Mikhail. Was he trying to cause a fight with Emmy? Hadn’t he just admitted defeat? I put my hands on her shoulders, the need to touch her overwhelming me.
“Look, I had to say yes. He wanted me to come back to Moscow and said the only way I could get his support with Armstrong was if I returned. Armstrong was a major player and if the Chicago Bratva went rogue and killed him, it would start a whole domino effect of people coming after us thinking we’re trying to take over Armstrong's action. I needed his help, and I would do anything—anything—to keep you safe, Emmy. Even leave you, if I had to.”
Her mouth opened and closed, her face contorting into a hundred fleeting expressions, which eventually landed squarely on anger. She punched me on the shoulder, took a step back and crossed her arms.
“I’m so mad at you right now for not telling me. I can’t believe you. This is my father all over again. You can’t keep making choices for me. You have to tell me this kind of thing and let me contribute to the decision-making. I’m not a child, I’m not made of glass. You can’t keep treating me like I’m invalid, Ivan.”
“I know, baby, I know. It’s just…” I shot a frustrated look at our audience of two, not exactly thrilled to have them witnessing this emotional display. I’d rather cut my stomach open and pull my intestines out than have these two listen to this conversation. But I had to fix this with Emmy. “I’m not used to being…with someone else. Considering someone else. I’m used to being alone.”
Her eyes immediately softened. I admit, I knew I was sort of manipulating her with my sad, fucked up childhood to get her to forgive me, but it was also the truth. I was so used to looking at every situation as something to be endured alone, handled alone, resolved alone. I’d only seen Emmy as a precious object to be protected, but not as an equal partner. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to fully disengage my protective instincts, but I could adjust how I communicated to her.
I continued, hoping to use her compassion to my advantage. “But I now know I can’t do that. I have to communicate with you, I will communicate with you. But in this situation, Emmy, I knew I would have done or agreed to anything that would make you safe, so there was no conversation to have. It didn’t matter because I had to save you. But I am sorry.”
Her eyes glowed with a sheen of tears and her mouth pressed together, then she punched me again, though much more gently. “Damn it, Ivan, how am I supposed to stay mad at you when you say stuff like that? Okay, but you have to promise to never do it again. Promise me.”
I gave her a half-smile, but relief had my knees weakening. I pulled her into my arms, softly apologizing in her ear and promising to always talk to her. “I promise. I love you so much, Em. I would do anything for you.”
“Okay,” she whispered softly back. “I love you, too.”
God, I’d never get enough of hearing those words. They settled in my chest and created a permanent warmth.
The sound of a throat clearing had me reluctantly pulling back.
Right, Mikhail and Drago were five feet away from us.
“What the fuck, Mikhail?” I barked, flipping from embarrassment to anger.
He raised an eyebrow, taking obvious issue with my disrespectful tone. “You have a problem, Ivan?”
My teeth ground together. “Yes, obviously. If you aren’t making me go to Russia, why the fuck did you mention it to Emmy?”
A rare smile crossed his typically serious features. “You’re fucking up a lot my plans by staying in Chicago, Ivan. I figured a little punishment was in order. I enjoyed watching you squirm and awkwardly bare your soul.”