Page 410 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

Uncle Boris spins around, his eyes spitting white-hot flames at my brother. “So, you’re good with her being sloppy in her actions? Good with her taking after you, Maks?”

Maks rolls his eyes. “Give her a break. She just started?—"

Uncle Boris pokes Maks in the chest with his finger. “Don’t give her any advice, Maks. I’m trying to keep her alive!”

“What the hell does that mean?” he says. I clench my fists at my side, silently willing my brother to shut his big mouth. He never knows when to back down and it’s going to turn out very badly for him one day.

“It means you don’t ever listen when I give you an order. You do what you want when you want because you’re driven by the toxic bullshit eating you alive from the inside out. It clouds your judgment. The only reason you’re still alive is because of me! It’s the only reason why both of you are alive!”

“Oh, so that makes you uncle of the year, huh?” Maks shouts. “You saved our asses and now we owe you ours? Fuck that!”

Uncle Boris grabs Maks by the jacket and throws him against the wall. “You wanna leave, Maks? You think you can survive for a single second on your own?”

A momentary look of panic flits across Maks’s face and then disappears as he grits his teeth. “I think I can protect us both without having to kill people for a living!”

Uncle Boris lets out a low, growly laugh. Shivers slither across my skin, the sound assaulting my ears. I cringe as it gets louder and more harsh.

“You walk out of here without me and you die,” he hisses. “Plain and simple. And if you don’t believe me, just try. Watch what happens to your precious sister before you suffer the same fate. They’re just waiting for you to make your move, Maks.”

My eyes fly open and I let out a gasp, perspiration pebbling on the back of my neck as I’m jolted awake by the nightmare. My uncle has always been a controlling bastard, and he’d say things like that all the time to keep us in line and focused. The threat of the unknown always loomed over us like a noxious black cloud.

It’s one of the reasons why I’m here right now, why I still can’t seem to break free.

And why I’m still letting him pull the strings.

Because deep down, I’m still that scared little girl whose parents were brutally slaughtered in their house, their family haven of safety and comfort.

It takes me a few minutes to remember that I’m no longer in that dingy bar in Brighton Beach, that I’m somewhere else.

Somewhere safe and warm.

Wait, where the is that, again?

I blink fast, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I’m suddenly very aware of a warm bundle sitting on my chest, and I thank God that my harsh return to the real world didn’t seem to wake her at all.

My face feels so greasy. Jesus, I need a shower desperately.

And some food.

In that order.

I carefully rise from the recliner, a crick in my neck shooting sharply down the side of my body as I turn my head. The gorgeous bed Heaven made up for me looks so inviting, and I make a silent promise to try it out just as soon as I wash the airplane grime off of my body.

I tiptoe over to the crib next to my bed and carefully lie Aisling on the mattress. I guess Heaven wanted to make sure I definitely did not miss the baby’s cries in the middle of the night.

No worries there since I haven’t had a restful night’s sleep since before the night Maks was killed.

I’m actually the ideal candidate for an au pair, in that regard.

How freaking ironic.

I stare down at the baby. She looks so peaceful and angelic lying there. My gut clenches. So much love. So much happiness. So much hope.

I had all of that once, too, kid…

I scrub a hand down the front of my face and set up the baby monitor next to the crib, taking the portable walkie-talkie thing with me into the adjoining bathroom. I really hope the shower spray doesn’t wake her up. She didn’t nap too much today, but I’ve always heard that babies have this sixth sense…like they know when you’re comfortable or sleeping or in the middle of something and pick exactly that time to start wailing.

I take a few, exaggerated steps toward the massive white granite and marble bathroom, looking up and around in awe. I think I’ll take the risk…

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