Page 6 of Dangerous Liaisons

“I am the one who pays you! I decide, and you obey! Do you understand?”

Kira took a step back from the desk. “I only wish to keep you safe.”

Seeing an almost broken look flash across the woman’s face, Isabella blinked away the tears that appeared in the corner of her eyes. She sunk back into her desk chair. “I am aware.”

“I failed you once. I will not do so again.”

“That was...” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “You did not fail me, but I am the head of this family now. You must trust me when I say I can handle Hunter Collins and the MC, but I will not stand for you second guessing my motives in front of them.”

“I understand, Moya Koroleva.”

“And I dislike being called that, you know this.” Isabella tossed her glasses onto the desk. “I am no one’squeen.”

“Isa…”

“I wish to be alone now.”

The Russian took another step back from the desk. “I will step out for the evening.”

“Take Viktor with you.”

“I do not need an escort. He will remain to watch over you with the others outside.”

She wanted to argue, but she knew Kira was turning once again to her vices. “I do not have to remind you to be careful,” she hesitated, “and I do not have to remind you that certain things are off limits.”

“I remember.”

“Good. You may go.” She waited until the office door shut before she felt tears gather at her eyelashes. She allowed herself only a few minutes before she pulled herself together and wiped her face.

When she was certain she was alone in the house, she entered the kitchen and poured herself a vodka on ice. When first dating Nikolai, she hated liquor. It had often been a routine to come home and enjoy it during the few quiet moments together. He had teased her relentlessly over the facial expressions of disgust that she would make while drinking. It was an acquired taste that, over time, she found pleasing. Now she drank to forget, but the curse of remembering haunted her. Her nightmares were punishment enough. Kira dealt with the pain by numbing it with alcohol andsex. She couldn’t afford such luxuries, nor could she afford to let down her guard.

She lost count of how long she had sat in the sitting room. She would not see Kira until the next morning, the woman returning long after she went to bed. While the rest of her security ran round the clock, the Russian had refused to live outside of the home. While large enough at five thousand square feet to give her the privacy she needed, she was grateful for her friend to be within reach.

A knock in a pattern she recognized made her venture toward the front door, and she paused as she grabbed the handle.

“Mrs. Romanov, it is Ivan. Zelenyy.”

Recognizing the voice and code word for green, she swung open the door, eyes widening at Xavier standing beside her bodyguard.

“Do you wish for me to remove him from the premises?”

She shook her head. “It is okay. Do come in, Mr. Wilson.”

“Would you like me to come inside as well, ma’am?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

As soon as Xavier crossed the doorway, he closed the door behind him. Isabella held her glass close, aware of her attire–a camisole top, trouser pajamas, and a robe thrownover her shoulders.

She pulled her robe tighter with one hand. “May I ask for the reason behind such a late visit?”

“Saw your shadow at the clubhouse,” he grumbled. “She seemed rather hellbent on causing chaos, so I thought...” He paused as if suddenly not so confident about his reason for being there. His gaze zeroed in on her face. “Have you been crying?”

Lowering the glass to her side, she was mortified that he noticed. “I ask again, Mr. Wilson, why are you here?”

“Fuck if I know.” He glanced around with a grunt. “You mafia bosses sure live in a different world.”

“If you came only to insult me, you can leave.”