Page 34

SASHA

T he party at the main Bratva’s mansion is in full swing.

Everyone is here, and I mean everyone —including our allies from the other organizations. The Yakuza, the Triads, and the Italians.

Juan even sent his son over after Igor suggested it. I don’t think he trusts the older man more than he does Kirill, but he seems more at ease now that Igor is in the game. Maybe that’s because they’re around the same age and are secretive to a fault.

Aside from the different factions, the leaders' families are also accompanying them tonight, but no children are allowed.

Not that they would bring them. I can’t imagine, say, Adrian shoving his son at such an event.

The risks of these gatherings are colossal. If we’re attacked, we’re sure to lose all the precious allies everyone, and especially Kirill, has been working hard to secure.

Needless to say, it’s a security nightmare for bodyguards. We’ve had to cooperate with so many guards, and some of them are on the fanatic side when it comes to protecting their bosses. They’re almost as hotheaded as Viktor, Vladislav, and Kolya—Adrian’s senior guard.

Well, and me.

Kirill’s safety is a nonnegotiable concept in my book. The other day, I choked a girl for daring to step into his path, and he had to order me to back away before I killed her.

Sometimes, he reacts to my bursts of protectiveness with a smile, and other times, he just sighs and shakes his head as if he thinks he’d have better luck trying to tame a lion.

It’s a problem that I’m working on. I know full well that I shouldn’t be acting like that, but I’m still traumatized by the scenes of him surrounded by blood on that hill and then lying in a hospital bed with lifeless eyes and bandages covering his body.

I will never allow such a thing to happen again. Never.

So what if I’m being a little bit too crazy about this? Viktor does it all the time, and he’s not seen as abnormal…at least, not much.

At any rate, I think I’m being perfectly reasonable, and no one, not even Kirill, will convince me otherwise.

Earlier, after he fucked my brains out in his office and I blurted that I loved him like an idiot, he told me not to come to this party.

He mentioned something about keeping Karina company and taking the night off. I thought he was joking, but he was perfectly serious.

I said, “The possibility of me not accompanying you tonight is on the same level as you allowing me to spend time with Konstantin.”

He didn’t seem happy with my decision to come along.

It did hurt a little to have him think that way. Maybe he took my feelings for him badly. Maybe I made a terrible mistake by voicing them. Isn’t there some sort of rule that you shouldn’t express your feelings during or right after sex?

That’s when I feel the most vulnerable, which is why I couldn’t control those overwhelming emotions or the need to let him know about them. And now…well, now, I’m plagued by this horrible feeling that I did something wrong.

Kirill is not an emotional man, and any outbursts like that could backfire. I knew that, but I stupidly brought up emotions related to whatever we have.

Is it wrong that I want more of him? And I don’t mean his body and intense dominance. I don’t mean his protectiveness and care, either. I need…something deeper.

I want to wake up in the morning and know that he’ll be there for the rest of my life. I don’t want to think that this is a phase that will eventually fade.

I’m being a sappy idiot right now, and Kirill can’t, under any circumstances, find out about these thoughts, or he might distance himself from me.

Desperate much, Sasha?

I wince at that but straighten when Damien leans against the wall beside me, hands in his pants pockets.

He’s supposed to be wearing a suit, but I saw him throw off the tie earlier and then slam his jacket on the ground, so now, he’s only in a crumpled shirt with the first two buttons undone and surprisingly pressed pants.

His hair isn’t a disaster like usual, though, but he’s definitely run his fingers through it a few times.

I’m more presentable than he is, but he still looks great, even when he’s dressed worse than anyone here. People with superior genes like him and Kirill manage to look like supermodels in whatever they’re wearing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be mingling around with the others?” I ask. “This is a guards’ area.”

“Fuck mingling.” He glares at the crowd. “That Yakuza old geezer is trying to corner me for a drink, and the worst part is that he doesn’t even do vodka.”

I smile. Ever since Damien was arranged to marry a Yakuza princess, he’s been more irritable than not, especially with Rai and Kirill, who helped arrange it.

In their minds, it’s simple. They need a strong alliance with the Japanese, and to accomplish that, a marriage has to happen.

It’s so common in these circuits that it’s become normalized. I still see the concept as a little disturbing, mainly because women don’t get a say in it. They’re just traded like stock between men.

“What the fuck you smiling at, pretty boy?” He narrows his eyes. “You find this amusing or something?”

I stand tall, my expression going back to all seriousness. “No, sir.”

“You obviously do. No wonder they say the quiet ones are the scariest. You’re a fucking sadist, aren’t you?”

Try the opposite.

My cheeks start to feel hot as erotic images from earlier barge into my head. It takes me a few moments to dispel them.

I clear my throat. “If you’re against this marriage, why don’t you pull out? Surely you have the power to.”

Okay, so maybe I’m trying to save the poor Japanese girl from Damien.

His lips curve in a smirk. “Who says I’m against it?”

“You…want to get married?”

“I didn’t think so in the beginning, but now, I’m sure I do.”

Wow. I feel more sorry for the girl. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have the attention of someone as unhinged as Damien.

He’s been doing all sorts of things to fight Kirill and has been failing for so long that anyone else in his position would’ve given up.

Not Damien.

“Her father is a fucking nuisance, though.” He clicks his tongue. “Question. Do you think she’d still marry me if her father was somehow removed from her immediate surroundings…say, for good?”

“You can’t kill your future father-in-law, who happens to be the head of the Yakuza, Damien…I mean, sir.”

“I’m not going to kill him, I’ll just remove him for a while.”

“That’s still unacceptable.”

“Even for maybe a month?”

“No.”

“Fine. I’ll do it after the marriage.”

“You can’t do that either—”

“Fuck you, Sasha. You can’t do this, and you can’t do that. What are you? My mother?”

Damien’s words end in a yell when Rai kicks him in the shin with the toe of her shoe. He grabs his leg and raises his fist to punch whoever assaulted him, but he stops when he sees her face.

“The fuck was that for?”

Rai cradles her pregnant belly and glares at him. “Don’t speak to Sasha that way again or I’ll break your leg next time.”

“What do you mean that way? I was just telling him how useless he is at giving advice. He kept telling me that I can’t kill and all of the boring nonsense.”

“That’s because he doesn’t want you to get in trouble. If you don’t appreciate his advice, don’t ask for it again.” She strokes my arm. “You okay, Sash?”

I rub the back of my neck and nod. Jeez. It’s almost unbelievable how much warmth I’ve found in Rai ever since that kidnapping.

She’s tough to outsiders and even some on the inside, but she has a heart of gold, and I’m so honored to be on the list of people she cares about.

“Why don’t you ask how the fuck I’m doing? I’ve known you longer than pretty boy Sasha.” Damien tries to step between us, but she shoos him away.

“Sorry, but this position can’t be given to just anyone.”

“The fuck? I disapprove of this.”

A tall, lean, and darkly handsome man steps to Rai’s side and places a possessive hand on the small of her back. It’s her husband, Kyle.

No one should be fooled by his good looks. This man is the top sniper in the organization. Even better than me. He’s an ex-hitman, so it makes sense that his skills are on a different level.

Rai’s eyes turn glittery as she looks up at him with so much love, it makes my heart squeeze. And Kyle—the man who used to be a killing machine? He looks back at her as if she’s the reason he breathes.

His hand rests on her belly, and he holds her tighter. I can’t help watching them whenever he does these subtle ownership gestures in public. Even Adrian, the man who’s rumored to hate his wife, was grabbing Lia possessively earlier.

Why does my heart hurt at these images?

Because you’ll never be able to experience them.

Kirill and I can’t go public with our relationship unless I stop being a man, and even if I do that now, there’ll be more repercussions about the fact that I was hiding my gender.

Not that I want that or anything.

I know it’s impossible, and there’s nothing that can be changed about it.

“Fuck off, Damien,” Kyle tells him in a distinct British accent.

“You fuck off.” He smiles at Rai. “I’m up for that affair anytime you wish.”

“I’ll spill your brains out right here and now,” Kyle says point-blank.

Damien grins. “I’d like to see you try.”

Rai places a palm on Kyle’s chest. “Ignore him. He’s just being antagonistic due to being bored. Why would he think about an affair when he was demanding that his marriage be brought up?”

“That was…” Damien trails off, lost for words for the first time ever. “A tactical move. Not my fault you don’t know what that means.”

“Do you even know what it means?” Kyle jabs at him. “Or did you use it because you think it’s fancy?”

“Fuck you, you fucking fuck. Also, as Kirill said, arranged marriages are for power, and only fools wouldn’t take advantage of that. Point is, I’m no fucking fool.”

Rai and Kyle egg him on, saying that he’s just a bit too desperate.