Page 74 of Savage Bratva King

Did he go to the office early this morning as usual or did he stick around to wait for me?

I wonder if he slept soundly or if he missed me in his bed.

I contemplate telling the guard outside my door that I’m sick and will spend the day in my room—anxiety is making me feel nauseous, so it wouldn’t be a total lie—but Leonid will know that I’m avoiding him, and so will everyone else on his staff. Besides, it isn’t like there’s anywhere for me to hide. If he wants to find me, he will.

So, I shower and dress, finish the last slice of cold toast on the breakfast tray, and wander down to the kitchen unescorted. I pass several other guards along the way, and no one comments about me roaming the house alone. Has Leonid warned them to give me the freedom of the house?

I smell his woody cologne before I reach the kitchen. Closely followed by voices: Leo’s and Tamara’s. The hair on the back of my neck immediately stands on end.

She can’t be trusted. Who knows what she’ll say about me when I’m not around to defend myself, and after my reaction to Leo’s marriage proposal and me choosing to stay in the guest room, he might be more inclined to believe her today.

I know what curiosity did to the cat, but what the hell—I stand outside the kitchen entrance and listen to what’s being said.

“You know what people will say, Pakhan.” This is Tamara. “They’ll say that the cracks are starting to show.”

“Let them say what they will. You know how I feel about gossip.”

“This isn’t just gossip though. Xander Amory has been waiting for a reason to discredit you.”

My stomach twists as the image of the severed hand pops into my head.

But Leo’s voice is calm and steady. “I have already given him plenty of reasons. If he believes that opening a women’s refuge with his sister-in-law is a sign of weakness, then he still has much to learn.”

He told Tamara about the refuge!

Maybe it’s a childish reaction, but the thought of Leo discussing the refuge with Tamara taints it somehow. As though she has seen the completed building before me and has already dismissed it as a novelty that the pakhan will tire of when he comes to his senses.

I’m about to turn around and head back upstairs to the guest room when she adds, “The printzessa has changed you, and not for the better. The sooner she goes home, the sooner our lives can return to normal.”

I bristle.

I knew she didn’t want me around, but to hear her say the words out loud to Leo drives home what I already feared: I don’t belong here.

With tears making my vision blurry, I turn around and run back along the hallway, colliding face-first with a woman I’ve never seen before.

“Gianna?” She knows me though.

She stands back and reaches for my hand, staring at the tears streaking my cheeks.

“What’s wrong? Is it Leo?” Her casual use of his shortened name causes me to sniff loudly and peer at her through my tears.

The woman appears to be around Leo’s age with long dark hair slicked back into a tight fashionable ponytail, and large brown eyes. But it’s the high, chiseled cheekbones and strong jawline that tell me that she must be related to Leo.

“No.” I shake my head and blink away the tears. “It’s nothing.”

“Okay, it doesn’t look like nothing to me. Did Leo speak to you yesterday? Is that what this is about?”

She knows as well. Fresh tears spill, and she ushers me through a doorway and into the dining room where I first met Leonid. She pulls out a seat and tells me to sit, and it’s clear that, like her brother, she is used to being obeyed.

A cup of freshly brewed coffee is placed in front of me along with a crisp white napkin that I’m afraid to use to wipe my eyes. She sits next to me and pretends not to notice my streaked cheeks and puffy eyes.

“I’m Victoria, Leo’s sister. I handle the legal side of the operation.”

I don’t know what to say, so I dab my cheeks carefully, and sip my coffee.

“Leo came to see me yesterday. He wanted to discuss the women’s refuge.” Her eyes flicker across my face, gauging my reaction to see whether her brother mentioned his proposition or not. Satisfied that this isn’t a complete shock to me, she presses on. “I told him that I thought it was a good idea.”

I feel a ‘but’ coming on, so I keep quiet, and let her do the talking. I need to clear Tamara’s voice from my head before I say something that I’ll regret when it gets back to Leo.

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