Page 39 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

“Does she still not trust us?” Viktor’s posture straightened, all traces of anger gone. Hurt took its place, dulling everything about the powerful man who ruled with an iron fist.

“We cannot force her to offer trust. It comes with time. We have not fully revealed ourselves to her. How can we ask her to do what we have not?” I shrugged.

Ilya moved to stand beside the desk. “We could talk to her.”

“Probably best if it’s one on one and not all three.” I motioned between us. “Three of us coming at her is likely to be taken as a threat.”

“I am not willing to give her up simply because she withheld this information.” Ilya picked up the paperweight and rolled itacross his palm. His shoulders bunched as he tossed it from hand to hand. It was the only reason Viktor kept the glass orb. It occupied us in stressful times.

“Ilya is right.” I spoke into the moment of silence as Viktor’s face lost the purplish hue and he scrubbed his hands across his face. “Annie has captivated all of us. We cannot let her slip away because she protected her children. If anything, that endears her more to me.”

I understood Viktor’s reluctance. His father taught him to never fall in love. Never trust a woman or give her any kind of power. His own mother had betrayed Viktor when she decided he was not worth sticking around for. I checked my watch. “She’s scheduled to arrive for work any minute.” Even with Viktor’s stunt, I trusted Annie to show up for the job. She needed the money, and we’d dangled one hell of a fat carrot in her face. Only a fool would let Viktor keep her from earning a significant wage, and Annie was no fool.

We waited, anticipation causing all three of us to turn antsy. Ilya tossed the paperweight at me. I caught it and hurled it back. Viktor paced, his usual method for dealing with stress. “How do we fix this?” He checked his watch. “She’s not going to show.”

“Give it time.” I caught the glass sphere again and threw it back. Viktor had told us once that he paid ten grand for it, and we’d not stopped using it as a baseball since then. He couldn’t care less about the money. He’d bought it at an auction to help trafficked children. The object itself had no value to him. It was the statement behind it, that the Bratva had certain lines they did not cross. This was another of those lines. We did not force women in any capacity. “I will talk to her, if she is amenable.”

“Good.” Viktor’s shoulders sagged, the weight of his mistake taking him down a notch from the high and powerful Pakhan to a mere man.

I would never utter those words aloud, but a single look at Ilya as he returned the paperweight to the desk showed a similar thought flashing across his face. We knew each other too well to hide.

Viktor’s office phone rang, jolting him around and spurring him into motion. “Yes.”

The woman’s amplified voice carried across the room. “Sir, I’m calling to notify you that Annie McIntosh has not shown up for work. She has a client waiting in the conference room. What should I tell him?”

“Cancel her appointments until you hear back from me.” Viktor slammed the phone into the cradle. “Fyodor, go check on her.”

“I’ll go with you.” Ilya straightened his tie and fixed his cufflinks, a look of utter pleasantness on his face.

I pushed him back, an impossible feat unless he allowed it. “Not this time. Let me go alone.”

“Fyodor is right. He is the least intimidating of us.” He shot me an apologetic look. “Sorry, my friend.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” I knew who and what I was. I lacked Ilya’s sheer size and strength and Viktor’s ruthless cunning. What I had were calm reasoning and the ability to make others feel comfortable. It was no small thing, and I used it to my advantage when necessary. “I’ll check her apartment first. If she’s not there, I’ll let you know.”

If she’d skipped out on us, Viktor might not hold his temper long. Even the thought of losing her fractured him, though he’d been the one to drive the wedge between us.

“This is my fault.” Viktor clasped my forearm in a savage grip. “I said things in my anger. Things I did not mean. I should have apologized right away, but the anger, it had me by the throat.” He shook his head. “I have messed everything up, and I’m sorry you are the one having to fix what I have broken.”

It was the first time I’d ever heard him own up to a mistake and the regret that came with it. Annie was doing more than bringing us together. She was teaching us how to be better men.

An hour later,I knocked on Annie’s apartment door. Soft footsteps sounded, followed by the slide of a lock, hopefully coming open and not closing. The door opened a crack, and a pale-faced Annie stuck her head into the opening. “Fyodor? What are you doing here?”

Her voice sounded rough, and her cheeks held splotches of red to contradict the paleness. Red rimmed her eyes, a sure sign that she’d been crying or violently ill. I suspected the first, but the latter would not be a surprise either based on the way she trembled and held the back of her hand to her mouth. She wore a thin robe with the belt hanging open, boxers and a T-shirt beneath with no bra. A cute look for her, except for the illness part.

“I came to check on you. To see if you needed a ride to work.” Viktor had insinuated that I had the power to influence Annie to come in for work, but one look at her and I shoved that thought aside. “I can tell that’s not the case.” A darting look over her head revealed what I expected, a ratty apartment with threadbare carpet, a sagging sofa, and a kitchen table barely holding upright on three legs.

Her eyes closed and she leaned her head on the hand gripping the door. “I’m sorry. I meant to call.”

“What’s wrong?” I nudged the door with my toe, not trying to cross into her domain but to test the quality of the wood. It rang with the hollowness of cheap material. Anyone with a shouldercould burst through the flimsy structure. “I thought you were over your illness.”

“Stomach bug.” She waved a hand in front of her face.

“Ah.” I smiled though she kept her eyes closed. “Does the bug happen to be known as Viktor?”

Her eyes flew open, a gasp parting her lips. Bloodshot eyes lifted.

I held up both hands. “He sends his apologies. That is only part of why I’m here.”

---