Page 96 of Devious Corruption

I swipe the last bite of my mashed potatoes and take my time eating them, getting the feeling he could use a moment to let the memories pass. It’s hard looking back sometimes. Losing his parents and then taking on a teenager couldn’t have been easy.

I wonder how deep in the Bratva he was when all of that happened. How hard did he have to work to keep her sheltered from his work while trying to help her navigate the enormous grief of losing her parents?

“You look less moody than normal. Did you get to break more thumbs today than usual?”

I’m teasing. Actually teasing this mobster sitting across from me in his kitchen, as though our days are filled with normal activities, and we’re like any other couple. We’re not. I’m not even sure if we’re a couple. That sounds weird.

I’m only here because of my brothers. And once they show up again and everything can be cleared up, this will end.

Lev presses his forearms against the edge of the table as he leans toward me.

“Are you trying to ask me about my day?” He lifts a brow.

“I guess I am.” I take a sip of my wine, a sweet white wine that I’m sure isn’t intended to go with this meal, but Lev knows I like my wine closer to juice than alcohol.

He leans back, folding his arms over his chest, studying me. “It was a productive day.”

“I’m not sure what that means in your world, but I’m guessing you’ve managed to get done what you needed to get done?”

He smiles. It’s casual, easy. This whole evening has been that way.

“I did.” He glances at my plate. “Did you like the roast beef?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. My plate is clean. I’ve used the dinner rolls to mop up all the creamy, delicious gravy that spilled off the mashed potatoes. Which I’ve also devoured.

“I must have been hungry,” I say laying my fork down across the dish.

He reaches across the table, grabbing my hand and squeezing. “It’s dinner. It’s meant to be eaten.”

I slide my hand from beneath his and push up to my feet.

“It was delicious.”

Picking up my plate, I grab his, as well, and take both to the sink.

“Leave those,” he says from the table.

“It’s okay, it’s only a few plates.” I rinse them both and get them loaded into the dishwasher.

When I clean up the containers, Lev’s heated stare stills me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He turns in his seat, leaning one arm on the table and the other over the back of his chair. “I have staff that does this. You don’t need to clean, do dishes, or do your own laundry.”

“I like doing those things, though.” I finish packing up the empty containers into a garbage bag and tie it off.

“No. You think you need to do those things.” He takes the garbage bag from me, cupping my chin with his free hand and tilting my head back. For a long moment, his eyes bore into me.

This must be what it feels like to stand naked in front of a stadium of strangers.

“You don’t need to earn your keep here, Max,” he says softly, then brushes his lips across mine. “You don’t have to make yourself useful to be here.”

My mouth dries. Something inside me shifts. The heaviness in my chest lightens.

“Yeah.” I try to laugh his comment off, like he’s way off base. “I know.”

“Do you?” He puts the bag of trash down, and grabs my hands, holding them between us. “Since you’ve been here, you’ve cleaned, cooked, worked beside my housekeeper whenever she would allow it. And even when she wouldn’t, you’d find some way to makeyourself useful to her. Yesterday, you made the men I left behind a batch of brownies.”