Page 449 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

He stands up when he sees me walk toward the table and pulls out the chair next to him for me. I look at the setup.

Three places are set.

I quirk an eyebrow and take a quick look around, but we’re pretty much alone in this somewhat quiet and secluded corner.

The place to see and be seen has a spot to avoid being seen.

What in the hell are we even doing here?

I sit down and Uncle Boris pushes in my chair. A waiter appears almost instantly with a tray stocked with highball glasses of a clear liquid garnished with lime.

I smile.

Thank God because I really need a drink right about now.

Maybe that will help me figure out how to navigate this whole shit show.

“Anya,” he says, returning to his seat. “It is good to see you.”

I purse my lips, the sniggering little voice deep inside the recesses of my brain reminding me that I am a mere tool to him. I disregarded it for far too long, but this? Leaving me out here on my own with no direction, floundering around with no knowledge of what I’m supposed to do? Ignoring me for days on end because ‘business opportunities’ got in the way?

I killed abrigadierof the Volkov Bratva, dammit! For him! No questions asked!

I have done so much for him and I’m tired of being a doormat.

And somehow the flicker of hope inside of me for a clear future, not one stained bright red, force out my next words like the catharsis I so desperately need.

Because I’m just tired of choking them down.

“Uncle,” I say without bothering to respond to his comment. I take a breath, still pissed as hell but struggling to keep my voice even. “How could you just leave me out here like this? You sent me into their home, into their lives, with absolutely no idea of what to do.”

He frowns at me. “You are challenging me again, Anya? You think I didn’t send you out here with a plan? I knew Volkov would be suspicious, so I wanted to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I let out a dry laugh. “By leaving me in Vegas alone, thinking you were dead because you never bothered to take a second to text me back?”

“I told you, I was focused on this deal. You made it possible when you took care of Vigo.”

“Do you realize that I have done everything that you’ve ever asked of me?” I hiss. “And I’ve barely gotten a ‘thank you’ for any of it. I’ve risked my life more times than I can count for you and never asked for anything in return. I just wanted you to give a shit about me, your only family.”

He lets out a dry laugh. “Family,” he scoffs. “You want to know how I feel about family? Let me tell you. Your father promised me a windfall if something happened to him and your mother. He swore I’d be taken care of for life if I took you and Maks to America. Well, guess what?” he sneers. “I didn’t get shit. I got two pain in the ass kids and not a fucking cent. I had to figure out how to take care of you and then how to teach you to take care of yourselves. I wasn’t in this for the love of family or for loyalty, Anya. This is business. It always has been. My brother made empty promises that fucked with my livelihood.Ourlivelihoods. So you need to wrap your head around that and give up on these ridiculous emotions. They’re part of the reason your parents were killed in the first place. They let feelings cloud their judgment and that exposed their vulnerability — you and your brother. And you know what happened to Maks.” There’s an edge, almost a warning in his voice that grabs me by the throat and squeezes. Tears sting my eyes but I blink them back because…weakness.

“It’s always been about the money with you,” I seethe, clenching my fists. “You never gave a damn about us!”

“I did what I had to do.” He glares at me. “I taught you life skills, Anya. I showed you how to get exactly what you want.”

“You’ve shown me what a piece of shit uncle I have.” I press my fingertips to my temples. All of the losses I’ve suffered come rushing back like an all-consuming wave, ready to swallow me whole. Wounds that have been patched up with bandages and bubble gum are torn open, exposing my pent-up grief and anger.

“Don’t you dare disrespect me like that,” he growls. “Did I avoid my responsibilities? No! I did what I had to do — always! I may not believe in that warm and fuzzy family shit, but when it comes down to it, I take care of my own!” He leans closer, his blue eyes flashing with rage. “That’s why I went to Manhattan that night to avenge Maks’s death! I went after his killer, Frankie Amante, and I was ready to take them all down as punishment — him, his sister, and his father! But your new bosses, the Villanis, stopped me from fulfilling my orders. The threatened me with a war if I came back for the others.They’rethe reason why Ivan Volkov demoted me, why we’ve been passed over for jobs. They prevented me from getting the revenge I needed, and I didn’t deliver for Volkov. I didn’t make us whole.”

“So you sent me here as part of a plot to destroy people who didn’t actually have anything to do with my brother’s murder?” I ask, slowly connecting dots I didn’t even know existed. My gut clenches. “How long ago did this happen?”

Uncle Boris presses his lips together, averting his eyes because he got fired up and said way too much.

Although for me, it was just enough to confirm what I already suspected.

I really have nobody.

He is a fucking liar.

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