Page 15 of Beautifully Deranged

I pour myself a drink. “Done.”

His lips twitch in approval. “Good. Our little side venture has been profitable.”

Little side venture. Like laundering millions through high-end businesses is some pet project.

“Would be more profitable if you weren’t so fucking absent all the time,” one of our cousins, Viktor, mutters.

“Stay in your lane, Viktor,” Roman warns, but there’s no bite to it. If anything, he agrees.

“You belong in this, Mikhail,” Viktor grumbles. “You always have.”

“I do my part.”

“That’s the bare minimum. We need you more involved,” Roman spits.

We’ve had this conversation before. I stepped back because I want to know if this is really mine, if this life is something I want or just something I was born into.

I don’t like being forced into anything. Maybe I’m good at it, maybe it comes easy, but does that mean I have to dedicate the rest of my life to it? I need to figure that out for myself. I’ve always felt like something was missing in my life, something that kept me from being fully committed to the Bratva.

“We have a problem,” Sergei grunts. “The art forgery ring is behind schedule.”

“How behind?” I ask.

“Three weeks.”

Roman scowls. “Because of Pyotr?”

“Because of Pyotr,” Sergei confirms. “The accident left him fucked up. He’s recovering, but he won’t be painting for a while.”

Pyotr was one of the best. He could recreate a masterpiece indistinguishable from the original. “I need a solution,” Roman hisses, looking between us. I don’t say her name. I don’t even let my mind form it fully, but the thought of her lingers like smoke in my lungs.

Lola is making this difficult.

I had control once. Restraint. Discipline.

But she’s testing me.

Last night I almost snapped. She pushed me, taunted me, pretending to be so innocent while doing the filthiest things. Licking the remnants of my own pleasure off her fingers. I barely held myself back. She doesn’t know how much further I’ll let her go before I give in.

But no one can know about her.

Not Roman. Not Sergei. No one.

If they find out, she’ll be pulled into this world, used, owned, the same way everything else is. They won’t see her as a person, but another asset to exploit.

And I won’t fucking let that happen.

“We need someone,” Sergei repeats, rubbing his jaw. “Someone good.”

I watch the amber liquid swirl in my glass. “Figure it out.”

“You already have a solution, don’t you?” Roman grunts.

I meet his gaze. “If I did, you’d know.”

“Lying to me now?”

Before I can bite back, the doors burst open.

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