Page 23 of Tangled Souls (Bratva Souls Duet #2)

MAXIM

Sitting back to watch how this meeting plays out is not easy. All the self-loathing I’ve been sitting on for the few days since the gala has transformed. It’s become a white-hot fervor that won’t be extinguished.

I’m tired of this shit. Of Mikhail popping up and making waves. Of people operating in the shadows and thinking they’re smarter than us. Of our woman being in danger.

There’s no way I’m going to tolerate this shit any longer.

Whatever has been coming, marked by the feeling in my gut, is almost upon us. It used to feel like it was on the horizon, but something has shifted. Something is going to break, and I’ll make damn sure it’s not my family.

I’m lounging back in one of the couches in Kirill’s office. Waiting. I fucking hate waiting.

“She’s on her way,” Kirill’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts. I didn’t even notice him calling her.

Fuck. Am I losing my edge?

I guess it’s a fair trade for having Oaklynn in my life.

The door to Kirill’s office opens so fast that it makes me wonder if she was just waiting to be called into the room. Swallowing down the resentment and the hatred I have for this woman isn’t easy.

Remembering the look of surprise on her face when we got off the elevator not long ago, has my hands clenching into fists. This day is all about surprises, I suppose.

“Mr. Volkov,” Betty’s voice is sweet, too fucking sweet, as she tentatively approaches Kirill’s desk. When she looks around to find the rest of us sitting around the room, her eyes widen slightly, but she covers it quickly. “You wanted to see me?”

It’s not easy to stop myself from scoffing at her little innocent act. She’s so far from innocent that it’s ridiculous.

“Please sit,” Kirill offers and motions toward one of the chairs facing the desk.

Betty perches on the chair like she’s prepared to run at any moment. Good. She should be wary even if she has no idea what is about to happen.

“Our wife,” he looks away from her like he needs a moment and clears his throat, “was severely injured on a night when she should have shined. We’re only here to get a few things dealt with before we head back to her.”

Kirill might look away from her, but I don’t. The glee and look of victory on her face is clear to see. She’s unable to mask it fast enough. Or maybe she’s just too stupid to do so.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Betty tries to sound contrite, but it falls flat.

I clench my jaw to stop myself from barking something very colorful at her. The fucking audacity of this woman. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it still does.

“I’m sure you are,” Kirill’s voice is condescending as fuck.

“Was there something with your schedule I could help you with? Or anything you need help with?” She bats her fucking eyelashes like she’s a doll with a lazy eye.

It would be comical if I weren’t so close to losing my shit. A quick glance at Huck and Baker tells me I’m not the only one struggling. We need to get this show on the damn road or the answers Betty has to our questions won’t matter.

Normally, I wouldn’t be on board with hurting a woman, but I’m finding my morality is more pliant than I thought, at least when Oaklynn is in danger. When the threat is to her, all lines disappear.

“It’s come to my attention that you have been in a relationship with someone on our security team,” Kirill launches right into it without warning.

Betty pales slightly and swallows hard as she starts to shake her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Volkov.”

When the door to the office opens, everyone turns toward it to find our wife breeze in without a care in the fucking world. Seeing her always takes my breath away and today is no different. She’s dressed to fucking kill in a pencil skirt and blazer which are tailored to her body like a second skin.

Betty’s eyes widen and she turns to Kirill so fast that her hair flies around her head and gets caught in the gloss on her lips. She looks ridiculous as she blows it out of her mouth, which doesn’t work.

“I thought you said she was severely injured,” Betty’s tone is full of accusation.

As if lying to her is a crime. It’s not. Fuck, even if it were, none of us would care.

“Betty, Betty, Betty,” Oaklynn’s words are condescending as she strides into the room like a fucking queen. She doesn’t look at us, her focus solely on the woman in the hot seat. “You don’t get to sound all offended by the idea of my husband keeping the truth from you.”

“But I thought…,” she begins and then clamps her mouth closed. Her lips press into a thin line, and I have to cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing at how petulant she looks right now.

“Oh, we all know what you thought,” Oaklynn assures her as she steps between Betty and Kirill’s desk where she perches on the edge.

She crosses her arms across her chest which pushes her tits up and makes my cock harden behind the zipper of my pants to the point I have shift slightly to get comfortable.

Damn, this woman. A little bit of lace peeks up over her blazer and makes me wonder what she has on underneath.

“You thought Mikhail Morozov was going to take me out of the equation, with your help of course, and then my husband would be yours to console.” Her face is a mask of mock sincerity before she snarls, “As if he would fall into your used up snatch.”

“What?” Betty gasps and presses her hand to her chest like she’s offended, but we see through her act. “Who is this Mikhail person?” She looks around wildly and looks for someone to come to her rescue. “What are you even talking about?”

Oaklynn groans and shakes her head. “You’re a horrible actress,” she deadpans.

With a clap, she has Betty’s attention back on her. She scoots back, sitting fully on Kirill’s desk before she crosses her legs. The way her skirt rides up her thighs is sexy as fuck.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

This time I have to reach down and adjust my hard cock. Our wife is a fucking vision.

Our woman’s hand slides up under her skirt and she pulls out a blade before placing it next to her hip on the desk. My mouth falls open in surprise. When she looks over at me, she winks. The fucking minx winks.

“Keep this for me, husband,” she purrs as she looks over her shoulder at Kirill, “it’s too much of a temptation to have on me at the moment.”

Betty is pale and starts to shake but no one in the room gives a fuck. When Oaklynn looks back at her, the fire in her eyes is clear to see. She’s pissed and she’s about to let her displeasure be known.

I shouldn’t rub my hands together with glee. But it’s really fucking tempting to do so.

“You’re insane,” Betty’s voice wobbles.

The smile that stretches across Oaklynn’s face is sinister as fuck and has me leaking pre-cum. She doesn’t respond to Betty’s bullshit, but she doesn’t need to.

“Now, where was I?” The question is rhetorical, but she plays it up by tapping her chin like she’s really thinking about it.

“Oh! I know.” She winks at Betty who does not look amused in the least. “We already know how you asked your little boy toy, the one you were fucking to mess with my security, to create a breach in the perimeter during the Heart and Home gala.” She glances down at her nails like she doesn’t have a care in the world; they’re not even painted.

“He was very forthcoming, it didn’t even take much persuasion,” her tone is conversational and chipper.

“I just had a friend who needed to get into the event but hadn’t been given an invitation,” Betty tries to defend herself.

Oaklynn makes a humming sound but doesn’t acknowledge the woman sitting there and trembling with fear. The silence stretches in the room, but I don’t even notice it. I’m too fucking riveted by our woman.

My eyes trail down to her legs. It would be so easy to spread her legs, sink to my knees, and rip the lace covering her pussy away. Then I’d dive between her thighs and eat her until she’s screaming my name.

When I glance at Baker, the feral look on his face makes me wonder if he’s thinking about doing the same thing I am. We could all eat her out on that desk to find out who makes her scream the loudest.

That’s the kind of competition I could get behind.

I let out a low groan as I think about fucking her from behind with her bent over the desk. Damn it.

Oaklynn fans herself with her hand as if she can feel our thoughts.

“Is it hot in here?” She inquires to no one in particular.

Then her eyes snap to Betty who she scrutinizes.

“You’re sweating.” When she leans forward, her voice drops conspiratorially, “It’s good to know it’s not just me who is hot and bothered. ”

“Look,” Betty croaks like her mouth is too dry to form words, “I’m sorry. Mikhail approached me and explained everything.”

Oaklynn arches an eyebrow in question and in challenge. Fuck, she looks like the goddess of war. All she needs is armor molded to her and a splatter or two of blood.

“I’m just dying to know what the ‘everything’ is that he explained to you,” there is a note of glee in Oaklynn’s voice which can’t possibly go unnoticed.

“He told me all about how you were engaged to him first but then decided to sink your claws into someone with more money,” Betty’s face twists in disgust—disgust toward our woman—with her words.

“He just wanted a chance to talk to you, something you were denying him even though you never returned his ring, while walking around here like some fucking princess. I told him about the meeting at that charity,” her words are flippant as if housing for those without doesn’t matter.

“But he said that wouldn’t be enough. He said he wanted to expose you and humiliate you. The gala seemed like the right place.”

Oaklynn starts laughing. And when I say laughing, it’s not some easy chuckle or little giggle. She belly laughs to the point she has to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes.

Betty stares at her with her mouth hanging open as if our woman is the one who has lost it. Poor girl. She has no idea what she stepped in.

Oaklynn struggles to get the words out as she gets her laughter under control, “You really believed Kirill and my men would abandon me if I were called a gold digger. Or,” she snaps her fingers as the amusement in her eyes dies in a heartbeat, “even better, you could sense the evil in Mikhail and wasn’t at all sad about the prospect of him killing me.

” Her eyes narrow as she starts to nod slowly.

“You were hoping for it and relishing in the idea of a man like him getting his hands on me.”

“No,” Betty’s voice wobbles, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Women know,” there’s an ominous note in our woman’s voice before she shakes her head and tsks. “It’s an intuition we hone over the years for our own self-preservation. One you should have listened to instead of lapping up Mikhail’s bullshit thinking it was cream.”

With practiced ease, Oaklynn unbuttons her blazer and slips it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the desk to reveal the corset style top she’s wearing. It’s lacy and revealing, but in a way that is sophisticated and not cheap.

“Fuck, Little Bee,” Huck groans.

Our woman flashes him a wide smile before looking at Betty again.

She stands up slowly before reaching back and tapping the handle of her knife with her nail, the sound loud in the quiet of the room since it’s only competing with Betty’s ragged breaths.

I’m not sure whether I’m disappointed when she doesn’t pick it up or not.

Oaklynn stalks forward, slowly, showing herself to be a sleek and practiced predator.

“You got it all wrong, Betty,” her voice is patronizing.

“I was never engaged to that scum, and I never walked around here like a princess.” She grips the arms of Betty’s chair and leans in which forces Betty to lean back.

“I walk around here like a fucking queen,” she snarls in Betty’s face, “because that is what, and who, I am.”

Oaklynn holds up her hand, her wedding and engagement rings on display and so fucking close to Betty’s face that she needs to cross her eyes to see it.

“I’m their wife,” Oaklynn’s words are measured. “Their. Wife.”

“We would never choose you, Betty,” Kirill growls the words.

When I look at my brother, his eyes are glued on Oaklynn’s ass as she looms over Betty. Fuck, I have no doubt that it’s a great view. I’m almost tempted to get up and move so I can get in on the view too.

“Never,” I chime in right along with Huck and Baker.

Betty tries to turn her head to look around the room, but Oaklynn grips her chin and holds her steady. “They are mine,” our woman’s words are menacing and final. “You fucked up and now I’m going to tell you what is going to happen.”

Betty swallows hard and tries to nod, but Oaklynn’s grip on her chin tightens. “O-o-okay,” she stutters out.

“You are going to pack up your shit and you are going to leave. Not just Volkov Enterprises. Not just Seattle. Not just the state. Hell, not even this seaboard. You are going to run as far and as fast as you can.”

Even though Oaklynn could shove Betty back, she doesn’t. She releases the scared woman slowly and then stands up to her full height. When our woman crosses her arms this time, I can’t hide my groan of approval.

“Never come back here, Betty,” the warning in Oaklynn’s tone is easy to hear.

“Or the next time I see you I won’t just be tempted to use my knife; I will use it.

” Her lips stretch into a smile that shows all of her teeth.

“I’ll use it to gut you before I skip rope with your intestines.

” Her eyes flick down over Betty’s body as she muses, “Maybe make a purse out of your skin.”

Betty is trembling in her seat to the point I’m almost afraid she’ll fall out of it. When Oaklynn steps back, our receptionist stands up and bolts toward the door.

Just as she grips the handle, Oaklynn calls out, “Betty.” The woman turns slowly, fear written all over her face. “Just to ensure everything is crystal clear—you’re fired.”

Make that former receptionist.

Oaklynn meets the heated gazes of each of us before turning toward Kirill. She points at him, her voice full of sass, “I’m hiring your next receptionist.”