Page 15 of Savage Bratva King

Either way, my anger has cooled, and I am not ready to send her back to the basement. I am not done with her yet.

I suppress a smile when Gianna returns to her seat and sips her coffee.

The eggs are extra buttery this morning, just the way I like them. I am hungry after the wasted evening meal at my parents’ property the evening before, and I have a good feeling about today. I might hold onto the Sedric asset a little longer than planned; she will certainly provide some entertainment that I hadn’t counted on.

I study her face while I eat. Her thick strawberry blond curls make me think of mermaids sitting on rocks and luring sailors to their death. Her eyes are the turquoise of the Indian ocean on a clear day, and her lips…

“Boss?” Sergei’s voice interrupts my reverie. “Do you need me to stay?”

I wave him away.

Mermaids and fucking oceans…

I down my black coffee and refill my cup. Why was she traveling economy class, unguarded? Does her family think so little of her that they would allow her to travel around the world unchaperoned? When this is over, they will have learned a lesson they will never fucking forget, but at what price?

My mother’s words come back to me. “You will learn to love your wife.”

I loved Elena. Is that not punishment enough? Love is overrated. It is for people like Xander Amory and Gianna’s father. It is for men who are prepared to live with the chink in their armor and ultimately lose the war.

“We were able to retrieve some items from the shipment, Pakhan, but the rest… We could not get to it in time.”

Ivana has joined us at the table, her spine straight, eating directly from the tureens as she always does. Another habit that no amount of food will ever break. She eats quickly, shoveling food into her mouth without tasting it, her eyes alert to the slightest threat.

Gianna might be a mermaid, but Ivana is a serpent, poised to strike.

My fists clench. I expect to see a smug expression on Gianna’s face, to hear her gloating over my losses, but she is silent, for now. Oblivious. And it occurs to me that she has no idea her brother-in-law is responsible for the war that has delivered her to my home. Of the good men I’ve lost. The millions of dollars that fallen into the wrong hands.

Months of planning blown to the wind. Shipments that were supposed to solidify our position, not crumble it.

Gianna is here for one reason only, and I must not lose sight of it.

“You are not eating.” I set my fork down and meet her turquoise eyes that are still burning with anger in complete contrast with her calm, delicate features.

This is what makes her so fucking dangerous.

Perhaps I should’ve sent her to Pedro. The dark walls of the Russian prison would’ve quelled that fire.

“I am not hungry.” Even as she says the words out loud, her eyes tell a different story.

“Do not lie to me, Gianna.” I set down my fork and dare her not to look at me. But it seems that my new asset enjoys a challenge.

So be it. She will soon learn that I cannot be beaten. She clearly needs to learn that I am the one in control here, and that I always get what I want, and I can keep this up indefinitely.

Her family will never find her. Seamus—if he even cares enough to look—will never find her. For beneath the gleaming façade of my elegant property lies a fortress that would not feel out of place in an Agatha Christie whodunnit. Hidden passages, reinforced walls, secret tunnels; my little printzessa hasn’t even scraped the surface of the places in which I could hide her if this is the game she wishes to play.

I pick up my fork and use it to point at her plate. “Eat.”

“I’m. Not. Hungry.” She faces me, and the fear in her eyes has been replaced by defiance.

It has become a battle of wills. Game on.

“Fine.” I hold her gaze. “Ya tebya syem.”I will eat you.

“Pakhan.” Tamara’s gentle warning does not even penetrate my thoughts.

I am focused. Gianna will do as I say, or she will suffer the consequences.

Gianna’s furrowed brow as she stares right back at me does not make me gloat as it should. It’s a low move, using a language she does not understand. But I am in it to win. I am captor, she is captive. I am Pakhan, she is Printzessa.

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