Page 18

Three days after the phone call from Anton, we’re set to meet.

Despite the voice in my head urging me not to trust her, I took a step back and let her take phone call after phone call from her brother until a meeting was arranged.

Each time, I could hear her talking him down with the expertise of a hostage negotiator.

After the way she put me in my place at the bungalow and how she handled her hot-headed brother, I can’t help but look at her with a new level of respect.

She might be reckless and far too careless with her own life for my comfort, but she’s clever and determined, too.

I’m still stung that she lied to me and that I hadn’t caught it.

Part of it is pride. I should’ve known better than to trust my captive like that.

The other part is more complicated. What I feel for Anya…

I’m not ready to put a word to it, but the lie hit harder than it would have if our relationship were as simple as kidnapper and kidnapped.

She’s my wife. The marriage is just for negotiations, and I keep reminding myself of that.

Seeing her with my family, before shit started going down, just felt natural in some way.

Easy. Right. Somehow, she fits in with them.

Timofey says he doesn’t like her, doesn’t trust anyone that isn’t an Abashin, but I think he’s full of shit.

Anya is a pain in the ass, but she’s impossible not to like.

Speak of the devil. She walks into my office, Zephir a step behind, and claps her hands together.

“He’s going to be here any minute,” she says, “are you ready?”

Anton. Today’s the day. We’re back at the mansion with a few extra security measures in place, and Anton agreed to meet here.

Says a lot about his confidence that he’s willing to walk into enemy territory for the meeting, rather than picking a neutral place.

Or maybe he’s just as reckless as his sister.

As agreed, both of us are coming to the meeting solo and unarmed.

“I am,” I reply, taking a minute just to stare at her. She’s so fucking beautiful, and she’s wearing a tiny, cotton sundress that would be modest on anyone else but looks sexy as hell on her.

“Please try to keep your temper in check,” she says, giving me a pleading look. “Anton is reasonable, but once he gets angry, all bets are off. You need to keep him calm. If he’s calm, he’ll be open to negotiating. Piss him off, and it’s over.”

“As long as he’s respectful, we’ll have no issue.”

She groans. “That’s not the answer I was looking for. No matter how he acts, you need to keep your cool.”

Barking erupts from the front of the house, and Zephir takes off for the door. He must be here. I get to my feet, but she holds out a hand to stop me.

“Just wait here. I’ll bring him in.” She hurries after Zephir.

I have no doubt she’s going to give Anton the same lecture I just got about maintaining a level head during this discussion. After hearing the man over the phone, I doubt it will be effective. I’m prepared regardless.

Their conversation grows louder as they get closer and I overhear bits and pieces—something about marriage and the Milov family habit. I straighten the papers on my desk and light a cigarette. Normally, I never smoke inside, but this situation calls for a hit of nicotine.

They reach my door and step inside together. Anya’s brother is light where she’s dark, blond hair, pale green eyes, tattooed, but the family resemblance is obvious.

She bounces on her heels, darting glances between the two of us with her hands clasped in front of her. I’ve never seen her this nervous, not even when I kidnapped her.

“Anton, this is Matvei,” she says, making the introductions. “Matvei, this is Anton. Please. Please try and keep it civil.”

She directs the last at me and I cock an eyebrow at her. Of the two of us, I don’t think my temper is the one to worry about.

“Go, Anya. This is between me and him,” Anton barks the order at her, and I bristle. If that’s how he bosses her around, no wonder she wanted to leave.

“Do not speak to her like that here,” I warn him, tapping my cigarette into the ashtray on my desk. “Or we will not get off on the right foot.”

Anton draws himself up. He’s muscled, but not as much as I am. If it came to blows, I have the size advantage, but I’ve heard the Milov brothers are scrappy fighters.

“It’s fine,” Anya interjects. “I’m going now. Come on, Zephir.”

The moment she leaves, the tension in the room rockets up, crackling between the two of us. Any spark, and it’ll explode.

“So,” he says, “you’re the Abashin bastard that kidnapped my sister.”

I take a seat behind my desk and nod at the chair across from me. “Have a seat. This is, after all, a peaceful negotiation. There is no need to come at it like adversaries, barking at each other across a room.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw, but he relents, taking a seat.

“I don’t know what you think you can say to me that will change my mind here.

You kidnapped my wife. You kidnapped my sister.

Anya says you’re not responsible for the hit on the lawyers, but the shit you have done is more than enough to put you on a blacklist.”

“I hope, perhaps, to make you see my side.” I stub my cigarette out and light another, holding the pack out to Anton.

He shakes his head. “We are not a big family. We were doing well enough before the Shevchenkos came into town. After their arrival, less so. They want to own Miami. Your alliance with them provides them the power to do so.”

He laughs coldly. “That alliance came together when you kidnapped my wife. It was your own fault. And why should I care if the Abashins are wiped out of this city? I have my own claim to stake here.”

“The Shevchenkos are not an honorable family. The moment you cease being useful to them, they will go after you, too.”

Anton slams his fist down onto the desk. “And the Abashins are honorable? Your family has nothing to offer me, and allying with you after what you’ve done here would make us look weak.”

Nothing to offer him? So far, I have done as Anya asked and managed my own temper, but if he is going to insult my family, I will drop the mask.

Before I can speak, Anton gets to his feet and raises his voice. “I only came here because Anya insisted I give you a chance to speak, but let me make it clear to you. I have no interest in an alliance with you, Abashin scum.”

I take a long drag of my cigarette and lean back in the chair.

If this were neutral ground, I’d shoot him for that comment.

Longingly, I imagine smashing his head into the edge of my desk until he apologizes, but Anya would never forgive me for hurting one of her brothers, and it would kill any chance of negotiation.

He’s here. For my family’s sake, I need to do what I can to break the Shevchenko and Milov alliance, regardless of how much of an asshole this guy is.

“I’m going to leave now, and I’m going to take Anya with me.” He cracks his knuckles, and his hands flinch toward his side, where I have no doubt there’d normally be a weapon. “And then I’m going to wipe out—”

The door swings open and Anya bursts into the room. “Anton! This is not what we agreed to. You promised me you’d listen to him and take this seriously.”

There’s color high on her cheeks, and despite the murderous look in her brother’s eye, she’s not the least bit cowed.

“How can you defend him?” Anton gestures at me with a sharp slice of his hand. “He kidnapped you and forced you into marriage, Anya. You should be begging me to kill him.”

She laughs. “Seriously, Anton? After our family history? You know we don’t have a leg to stand on. It’s practically the Milov playbook.”

He opens and shuts his mouth a few times. “That’s not the point. This is different.”

“It’s only different because I’m your little sister, is that it?” She goes toe to toe with him, and I have to say, it’s rather enjoyable to be on this side of one of Anya’s rants. “That’s bullshit. I’m fine, Anton. So get over yourself and listen to what Matvei has to say.”

Anton crosses his arms. “I don’t want to hear a word out of that man’s mouth.”

I refrain from telling him that it would be gentler than what he’s going to receive from Anya. She’s a hurricane of a woman.

“Then you get to listen to me. Look,” she says, brandishing a cellphone in front of his face.

“Matvei wasn’t even in the city when Ella was kidnapped.

His idiot brothers went behind his back and did it.

You know what it’s like in these families, Anton.

Sometimes shit slips through the cracks.

You can’t hold it against him, and Ella is safe now. ”

She taps the phone and brings it back up to Anton’s face, giving him no choice but to look at whatever is on the screen.

“This right here is the Shevchenko territory map. See that spot over there, the one that’s supposed to be all Milov?

Matvei tells me they started moving in last week.

You can’t trust them. They don’t actually care about the alliance, they’re just using us to monopolize the city. ”

Anton frowns at the screen, a furrow of lines on his brow. “How do I know I can trust this information? That he’s not just lying to get me to agree to this deal?”

“Check it out yourself,” I say, shrugging a shoulder. “I have no reason to lie. The Shevchenkos cannot be trusted to do anything other than look out for their own best interests. They don’t do long-term alliances. They use. They discard.”

“Matvei’s right. They have no intention of sharing this city.

Before we moved in, they were trying to drive out every single family that was already established here.

They completely wrecked the balance, and now they’re just using us to finish the job.

We need to get out of our deal with them before it’s too late and they turn on us,” Anya adds.

She’s not backing down and damn do I like her like this.

Fired up. Passionate. Clever as hell. Seeing this side of her, I can’t help but think her brothers were fools for keeping her out of the family business.

She should be front and center in all of their negotiations, because she doesn’t take no for an answer.

Anton sighs and holds up a hand to stop her from going on. “Enough. I don’t like this. At all. I don’t like him,” he says, jerking his thumb at me, “and I don’t like this situation you’re in. But for your sake, I’ll consider what you’ve said.”

Anya throws her arms around him. “Thank you. You won’t regret it. Just look into what I told you and you’ll see this is the right choice.”

I should’ve just let her handle the entire negotiation. There was no way Anton was ever going to agree to anything when he was dealing with me, and I’m pretty sure Anya just gave us a real chance.

“I will,” Anton promises. He turns to give me a hard stare. “Take care of her. If anything happens to her, whether it’s at your hands or not, the entire deal is off the table and I’ll do everything in my power to destroy your family. Got it?”

I stand. “You do not need to tell me to take care of my wife, Milov.”

Anya steps in between us before things can escalate again. “Okay, Anton, let me walk you out. Come on.”

It’s not a promise of Milov aid or a vow to break the alliance with the Shevchenko, but it’s something—a start. And it’s all thanks to Anya.