Page 83 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation

Deep-level shit. It suddenly shifts how I’m looking at the Volkov Bratva.

If someone else knows about another layer, one worth millions, or billions, or something more than just money, but power, then they just might have in mind to take it before Ava ascends.

Maybe the threats against her were real.

And what if that bomb and those men were put there at the mansion by Romanov? A man who tried to marry her to his son, claimed he’s trying to protect her by bringing her into his fold. A man who knew her father and stepmother?

What if he hired this Hank, too?

“Where would we find this secret information that my bride needs?” I ask.

Launceston says, “There’s a hidden safe in Volkov’s office.”

“Hidden?” I ask, because if it were me taking over, the first thing I’d have done is find everything—like a safe—and had it opened. Immediately.

“It might be in plain sight. Alex told me it wasn’t noticeable if you didn’t know him well. But that’s where it is. And you’ll need the code, Ava. He told me to tell you about it when the time came.”

“I don’t know anything about a safe or a code.” She looks at him, then at me, and I believe her. Or rather I believe she believes that.

How the fuck did something so simple become infinitely complicated?

“I have faith,” I say. “I’m pretty fucking sure you can do anything, sweet thing.”

The lawyer clears his throat. “Tomorrow you’ve got your first meeting with the interim head of Volkov.” He writes something down and passes the card to me. “Don’t be late.”

I stand outside the exclusive clothing store, letting Ava choose what she wants. Shopping isn’t really my thing, though I’m willing at some point to give it a try. For me, the thrilling aspect is her trying everything on after first doing a strip tease. I’d like to see how much I can make her beg and how far I can bend her to my will.

I’m an alpha, but so is she, and it turns me on to no end. I don’t have to like her to want to mark her as mine.

Or is it that I still don’t trust her?

She has that ability to turn me upside down and inside out in unexpected ways. She’s cold and yet burns volcano hot.

And I’m still not one hundred percent convinced she didn’t try and shoot me the other night. I believe her when she told me she wasn’t about to kill me. But shooting me, maiming me? That’s a different story.

We’re both in this together. This mutual mistrust, dislike, lust. It makes for one hell of a volatile and seductive cocktail.

“Where are you?” Dec asks when I pick up the phone. “You sound like you’re loitering somewhere, causing trouble. Are you?”

He snickers, and I imagine ways I can get revenge for that crack. But right now, I need him. There’s no way I’m going in blind to this meeting tomorrow night. Ava steps out of the changing room area and the salesgirl fusses over her.

As she fucking well should. She has my credit card and she’s dreaming of a big commission, one Ava seems hell-bent on ruining as she hands the girl two things. I open the door and stick my head in.

“Get it all, sweet thing.”

“I only need?—”

“What I tell you.” I look at the girl. “She needs an entire wardrobe, casual or whatever passes as casual to evening. And if you don’t have it, get it shipped in here for her to try on and buy.”

I close the door.

“That sounds pretty excessive. I thought you called her a witch,” Dec says.

I’d sucker punch the kid if he were here. I’m pushing into my thirties, but he’s still basically in diapers. He needs to learn respect. “A witch should be well dressed.”

“I thought you didn’t like her.”

“I don’t like you and I keep you around.”