Page 102 of Desperate Crimes

She said so.

Therefore, she's more mine than ever.

Not a pawn.

Not a bargaining chip.

Not a goddamn collectible to place behind glass.

My wife.

And nobody—nobody—gets to take her from me.

The buzzer on my desk chirps once.

Short. Sharp. Insistent.

It’s my private line—reserved for Viper business and emergencies.

I hit accept without looking up from the monitor feed where Leanna still walks the garden, sunlight dusting her like fucking gold.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, bro,” Sammy says, his voice lined with that deadly mix of sarcasm and concern that tells me one thing—I’m about to be fucking pissed.

“What,” I bite out, already grinding my molars.

He clears his throat. “Don’t bite my head off, but one of my guys on the Caas deal just checked in. Said that he’s sniffing around, in talks with someone we both know.”

“Yeah? Who’s that?”

“Just my uncle. Your new papa-in-law. Adrik Volkov.”

My spine straightens like someone poured cold steel into it.

“What?” I growl. “Gianni Caas is talking to Volkov Industries?”

“Not just Volkov Industries. He’s on the line with Adrik himself.”

“That two-faced motherfucker,” I snap.

“Yep. That’s one word for him. I told you I didn’t like him, Junior. Anyway, it doesn’t seem like Uncle Ad knows you or Viper Enterprises are involved yet. But he’s making inquiries on Caas’ property—quiet ones. Smart ones.”

I slam my palm flat on the table, rattling a crystal tumbler full of untouched bourbon.

“Fucking hell.”

“I know. But hey—silver lining? If you did close the Caas deal and handed it over as a goodwill offering, that might take the edge off the whole ‘I ran off and married your daughter in secret’ thing.”

I snort. “You think Adrik goddamn Volkov wants a fucking bridal gift from me?”

“I think Uncle Adrik wants leverage in Southeast Asia. Caas’ company would give him that. It’d be poetic—bloody, but poetic. You get the girl, and you hand Daddy a solution to a five-year problem.”

I lean back in my chair, grinding the heel of my hand into my sternum like I can press the fury down deep enough that it won’t boil over.

“That explains Caas’ sudden radio silence. Asshole thinks he can play chess with the fucking Vipers and Wolves.”

“Well,” Sammy says dryly, “you’ll cure him of that. I’ve seen you work.”