Page 24 of Sexting My Bratva Boss (Mafia Silver Foxes #1)

Konstantin

I ’ve had blood on my hands since before sunrise.

I didn’t flinch when Olena told me they found Yuri and Sava face-down in a meat locker on the edge of Little Italy.

It was a warning—a stupid one, because you don’t leave evidence unless you want someone to come knocking.

And I will. I’ll knock down every door until I find the men who have been harassing mine, whether Giuseppe Sartorre was telling the truth or not.

But not tonight.

Tonight, I have another problem. One who thinks she can issue commands like she’s one of my lieutenants. One who has proven herself to be quite jealous of my lieutenants.

Audrey showing up at the office and crackling with energy was an amusing distraction after a morning of losses. But it took more effort than I like to admit to mask my frustration and rage.

Sava had a daughter and a stepson. Yuri just came over a month prior, as a favor to a friend. I’d paid for my ticket myself, and now I’d be paying for both of their funerals.

My jaw is tight as I step out of the car in front of the country house. I’ve been spending more and more time here, and tonight, for the first time in a while, it doesn’t feel welcoming. It feels like I’ll have to walk in lying through my teeth.

Hiding how truly violent my life is from her.

When I left the Spire half an hour ago, I was so wrathful that I told Lev to stay. To command the men, and make sure they went out ready—for whatever, whoever, was hiding in the shadows. That’s why I wasn’t alarmed when Audrey texted me, We need to talk. Tonight.

She should be grateful I’m showing up at all tonight, after the week I’ve had. After burying two bodies and tightening the perimeter around the Spire. After Olena confirmed there’s someone inside still trying to feed intel to the Italians.

Which is why I’m going to lose it if she starts talking about feelings. My patience has finally run out, and I don’t have time to reassure my little wolf. The first priority is keeping her safe; keeping her satisfied will have to come later.

I knock once. Not because I have to. Because I still believe in manners.

The door opens, and for a moment I forget the ache in my jaw.

Audrey’s wearing a t-shirt and leggings, hair up in a messy bun that leaves her neck exposed. It’s an uncharacteristic look for her, so casual that it catches me off guard. Her eyes widen when she sees me and then narrow.

"You're late."

"I didn’t realize I was on your payroll," I growl.

"You’re not. But you’re on my clock, considering what I found this morning."

Her voice is sharp, her body bristling with energy. She steps aside to let me in, and when I see who’s waiting on the other side, I realize that this is definitely not about Olena.

Chrissy.

She’s sitting on the couch, her legs curled under her, holding a glass of wine that she clearly regrets pouring the moment I step inside. She’s practically vibrating with anxiety.

"This isn’t a good time for guests," I mutter.

"She’s not a guest," Audrey snaps. "She found the same anomaly I did." She crosses her arms and it’s easy to see how cute she’ll look when she’s angry and very pregnant. For a moment, that thought takes the edge off.

I shoot a look at Chrissy, who just gives me a tight nod. Smart. She knows she’s in over her head, but she’s not stupid.

“Mr. Martynov. I’m sorry to—” she glances at Audrey, then back at me, “interrupt your night.”

Ahh. So, she knows we’re sleeping together.

A dark, possessive voice snarls in my mind: But does she know just how deeply entwined Audrey and I are? That I won’t let her go unless her roots are ripped from my veins?

Chrissy bites her lip, so Audrey talks instead: "We think Sal was after more than just the money."

I blink. That name tastes like bile.

"Go on," I say, voice low.

Audrey gestures for Chrissy to speak. Her friend swallows.

"There’s been a string of low-level pings in the system. Not from the outside. Not from an external hack. This is someone inside the firewall, using clearance codes that only a handful of us should have. They’ve been in the Petrovia file, Mr. Martynov.”

My brows rise as I drop into an armchair across from the couch. Audrey curls up next to Chrissy, putting a consoling hand on her friend’s back. Chrissy swallows down another gulp of wine, her eyes flitting to mine and then away.

She’s nervous but not lying.

I glance at Audrey. “So, Sal wasn’t just in it for the money. And he wasn’t just upset that you’ve let me possess you.”

Chrissy’s cheeks go pink at my frank claim. A fire lights in Audrey’s eyes—one that, I’m sure if we were alone, she’d let me smother by putting her under me.

"He wanted the keys," she says. "Not the vault. The money was bait. The accounts... how you fund everything, Konstantin... that’s what he really wanted. Sal knows now how to bring down your operations from the ground up."

That name on her lips makes something inside me snap taut. I move closer, lowering my voice as I lean over her, hands braced on the back of the couch.

"You could have told me this sooner."

"I didn’t know. I swear. I thought he just wanted the money."

"You think I need proof to burn someone alive?"

Chrissy makes a quiet noise and stands.

"I should go."

"Yes," I say.

Audrey gives me a glare but doesn’t stop her friend. They murmur quietly to one another, a familiar rhythm to the quiet conversation that I can read from here: Chrissy regrets telling me. Or at least, being in the middle of Audrey and I. Audrey is reassuring her. Chrissy is scared anyway.

As she should be.

I’m not known for forgiving mistakes, and Chrissy letting someone get into the Petrovia file is a mistake.

Once the door clicks shut behind the accountant, I let the silence stretch

Audrey looks at me, jaw tight, matching me inch for inch.

"Sal started asking questions about the Spire right after I borrowed the money. Not just about what I did, but who I reported to. What systems I had access to. He made it seem like he just wanted the money, but..."

"He wanted intel."

She nods. "I think he was a middleman."

I watch her closely, trying to gauge just how much she knows versus how much she suspects. " “You think this has something to do with Giuseppe."

Audrey doesn’t flinch at the name. Brave, this one.

“It doesn’t.”

“…How do you know?”

She doesn’t move from the doorway between the foyer and the living room. She’s tense, holding her body as if she’s expecting Sal to appear at any moment; as if she’s back in his destructive, manipulative path.

It’s clear how much her Nana meant to her. I can’t imagine losing someone who raised and truly loved you, only to be taken advantage of in the throes of grief.

She crosses to the kitchen and pours herself water. Her hands are shaking. She’s trying to hide it, but I see everything.

"Why didn’t you tell me he was pressuring you?"

Audrey scoffs. "Before all of…” she gestures between us, at her belly, “this? Because I didn’t want to be a pawn again. I wanted to fix it, and I thought he’d stop when he got his money back."

"You can’t fix what you don’t control."

She turns. "I did control it. That’s why I let Duscha catch me."

The words land like a slap.

"What?"

Audrey takes a breath. "I knew Duscha hated me. She didn’t exactly hide it, Konstantin. I knew she was watching me like a hawk. So, I stopped hiding the mistakes. I left the line items exposed. I let her find it. Because I knew she’d go straight to you."

I stare at her.

"You wanted me to catch you."

She nods, and I want to laugh, smirk, kiss her until she can’t breathe. Instead, the careful mask I’ve perfected over the years slips over my features: I feel it, as if it’s a real thing. Audrey’s eyes search my face.

"I know it was suicide, but I needed a way out. Sal wouldn’t let me quit. He wanted more access. He wanted everything. The only way out was through."

I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

"So, you played me."

"I trusted you," she says. "Even then. That you'd know what to do."

The silence between us turns into something dangerous. My fists clench.

I want to shake her. I want to kiss her. I want to scream.

Instead, I stalk to the window and stare out at the streetlights. "I lost two men this morning," I say, without turning.

She says nothing.

"Yuri and Sava. Killed in a cooler. Died slow."

When I finally glance back, her face is pale.

"That’s what I was dealing with when Olena came into my office. Not that I owe you that explanation."

Audrey doesn’t blink. "You think… Sal…?"

"I’m beginning to think I underestimated him. A deadly mistake, in my position, but when I met you Audrey—when all I knew was that you owed a debt to him… I thought it was jealousy motivating him. Now, I think he’s out for more."

"But wouldn’t that mean that Giuseppe Sartorre…?" Her eyes widen in fear. “Are they trying to take you out?” she practically whispers, rushing to my side and getting on her knees. Her hands on my thighs are warm, a buoy in this dark night.

"No. I spoke with Giuseppe a few nights ago. He made it clear—Audrey, you cannot tell anyone else this." Her eyes promise me she won’t. “He made it clear that there is some kind of coup in his family, a group that has splintered off. They’re trying to pit us against one another. If it’s Sal?—”

“And he found the Petrovia files,” she breathes out. “I thought he was crazy when he threatened you, but with that information could he…?”

“He could. If I hadn’t caught him.”

For several long moments we sit in silence, my large hands covering Audrey’s. Her belly is pressed against my legs, and I feel a slight pressure, a slight flutter. Our eyes meet and she smiles. “The baby.”

All of a sudden I’m no longer drowning. I press my hand to the spot, waiting—and then it comes again.

A small kick.

I close the space between us, joining her and kneeling on the decadent rug. My hands gather her close. Our faces are inches apart.

“You still owe them money?”

Shame flashes across her face. She nods. “Yes. With interest.”

When her chin drops, I lift it back up with a finger. “Don’t be ashamed,” I murmur. “We all do what we have to in order to survive.”

Her breath catches. Her pupils dilate. The air turns molten.

But I don’t touch her.

I rock back, stand, and pull my phone from my coat.

Giuseppe won’t answer. But he’ll see the message. He always does.

Audrey Wolfe. Her debt with you is cleared. The money will be in your account tomorrow morning.

Then I swipe to my private ledger. The one no one else touches. Not even Olena.

It takes fifteen seconds to transfer thirty thousand to a laundering route we both use. An old truce. One I’m about to break.

It takes another ten seconds to kill the trail. Sal will see the money, think Giuseppe covered his ass. And I’ll know she’s free.

Holding a hand out, I help her rise to her feet and give her a slow, patient kiss. Audrey leans into it, body melding against mine. Once again I’m tempted to forget everything, take her upstairs, lose myself in her and our future.

“Do you trust me?” she whispers, vulnerable, against my chest.

“Yes.”

Her phone on the coffee table lights up. An unknown number flashes a message on the screen: The balance is zero.

"What did you just do?" She looks up at me quickly, the phone trembling in her hand.

"Tied off a loose end."

Audrey opens her mouth to press, but I stop her with a look. Not a threat. A promise.

"You told me everything tonight. So let me do what I do best."

She hesitates, then nods.

Outside, a siren echoes in the distance. I step toward the door. Before I open it, I glance over my shoulder.

"If Sal comes near you again, I’ll make him wish he was the one who died in that meat locker."

And I mean it.