Page 7 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation

For them.

A chance photo of Romanov in his office, forInterior by Designmagazine, a glossy publication of the rich and famous in their abodes, made me plan this evening.

One chance I figured, when I caught sight of the crest on his desk, to snag it. The opportunity was right there in blackand white. A marriage being celebrated between two titans of industry. Or, for those in the know, two powerful crime families.

It would be my one chance to take it. My family crest. And according to my father’s bedtime stories, it belongs to the true Pakhan.

Which should be me.

But when he died… my spoiled, rich, and reckless cousin, Stanislav, was to be named as Pakhan when he came of age.

I take another breath, grateful I prepared. When I arrived, I hid a second dress in the industrial dryer just in case I needed it when I got back inside. I pull the dress on and trudge up the back stairs.

The pull to go and find Tatiana is almost more than I can bear and my eyes blur. But I blink hard. My goal was to take the crest and whatever else I could steal, cause a distraction, and then walk out the back door.

At least I’ll complete part of the mission.

Tatiana’s safe.

And now I need to find that crest. It means something to be named Pakhan, I know it. When my uncle died last week, instead of eyes on me, his second assumed the position of interim Pakhan and is now searching for a full Russian relative to take the role.

A man.

Fucking sexist assholes, all of them.

The Volkov Bratva’s small, but it’s something that could do great things with me in charge. And I would be, if Stan were still alive.

But Seamus Murphy killed him three years ago, and with Stan’s passing went his promise of my taking over at twenty-five. Even if Seamus didn’t kill him, he was there. And Paddy told me the Murphys always want what isn’t theirs.

Like my bratva.

Seamus Murphy’s the one he pointed to in the photo. I saw him in that church last year, St. Jane’s. He left me dead inside, unlike his man skulking around the grounds tonight. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll have my revenge on him and the rest of the Murphy clan.

When I’m Pakhan.

Downstairs, the party continues, my bomb nothing but a fucking dud. As I head to Romanov’s smoking room where I know his safe is, I almost keep walking up to the next floor.

Where Tatiana is. My younger half sister.

Not that she knows it.

Iosif keeps her from me. We don’t even have a relationship. She’s four, he’s had her since Dad and Elena died, and now he hides her. I’ve seen her a handful of times, but I’m just Ava, no one special to her and she’s… just flesh and blood that I love in that way I know I’m meant to.

She’s safe here, I tell myself. Safe.

If I barge in, if I take her, then who knows what will happen?

It’s like knives under my skin, not following pure, unadulterated instinct.

“Besides,” I whisper. “You can’t even provide for her.”

No, I can’t. And I can’t guarantee her safety. Right now, she’s protected by the clout of Romanov. If I take her away from all of this…

“Do your fucking job, Ava,” I mutter through clenched teeth.

I need to take something to make some fast cash. My uncle’s death has sent things into a tailspin, which was my plan before I got distracted by actually getting the crest and wanting to put it somewhere safe before I stole anything else. Because I can deal with being caught and having stolen goods stripped from me. I just didn’t want to lose access to the crest.

Except, I think,I did.