Page 45 of The Bratva's Arranged Virgin Bride
The man got too close again, moving fast. “Ah, but dishonest work pays so much more and could be more fun for both of us. What do you think?”
This earned him a punch from Kolya, and I wasn’t sorry to see it. Within seconds, there was a full-on brawl happening before me, making a worse mess of the place. I waited for a chance, and as soon as I had a clean shot, I nailed the guy over the head with the broom. It gave Kolya a chance to sweep his legs out from under him and send him flat on his back on the floor. Standing over him, Kolya put his foot on his chest, pinning him in place like a bug in a museum display.
To my surprise, instead of finishing him, Kolya leaned over and helped him to his feet. And then apologized. Not very sincerely, but still.
“You’ve got to go,” he said, marching him to the back and shoving him out.
I heard him shout that Kolya would regret this before the door slammed shut with a clang of metal. When he joined me in the main part of the gallery again, he didn’t seem too worried.
Except for me. He gave me a small shake. “You were foolish to follow me. I’m going to pay for what I just did. I might have to give this place up to appease him now.”
Kolya Mikhailov gave up something he cared about to appease someone he despised? I never saw him like this. He was obsessed with money, and I had been too when we were working together in Milan. It was obvious he couldn’t stand that man, so why would he give in so easily?
“Who is he?” I asked. “What was that all about? What is this all about?” I swept my hand around the carnage. “And why am I Linda all of a sudden?”
He smiled wearily at my barrage of questions. “His name is Visarrion Koltlov, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
As much as I didn’t care for his imperious tone, I wasn’t eager to be near the man again, either. Kolya remained tight-lipped about my other questions, so I looked around the gallery, what was left of it. There was potential here. It was a great location, fantastic, really, and though the art wasn’t particularly to my taste, on closer inspection, it was really good.
“Is this the same deal?” I asked, all but daring him to lie to my face.
“Yes,” he sighed. “I was supposed to have the first show next week, but it doesn’t seem likely. Especially since Visarrion won’t cool off enough to help me get it back in order.” He sighed again, looking around the wreckage and shaking his head. “My manager ran out on me, too,” he continued, laying it on thick. “I can’t seem to make a good display to save my life.”
It was easy to see he was trying to work me up, but he didn’t need to. “You have a new manager, as of now,” I said. “Her name is Linda. Uh, what’s my last name, by the way?”
He shook his head. Was he really not trying to entice me to join him again?
“No way. You’re not part of this. Not this time. I’ll just hand over the reins to Visarrion and get rid of him another way.”
“I don’t need to know anything about that,” I told him, honestly not interested.
I already had my phone out, looking up my old friend who was now working for an antiques dealer. She could either get those benches fixed or replaced. Glancing up, I shook my head. “The lighting fixtures are all wrong. Too garish and bright. Don’t worry, I know a guy who works fast.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said, his frown causing deep lines between his brows. “But I already said you’re not part of this.”
“Mmhmm,” I said. “I’ll need to speak with the artists, too. They’ll need proper encouragement if we’re going to have these walls filled in less than a week.”
My anger was on the back burner, and it felt good. I was in my element and raring to show off what I did best. That brief time in Milan might have led up to my darkest hour, but it had also been the most exhilarating time of my life. And maybe, just maybe, I could find something useful to my family at the same time. Either way, I was in.
He sputtered, incredulous that I dared to defy him. I stood with my feet planted between the broken benches and a pile of slashed paintings. “I’m part of this,” I said. “Try to stop me. You’ll fail without my help, and that will eat at you because you hate failing even more than you hate giving up what’s yours to your enemies.”
His jaw actually dropped. His eyes were dark and stormy, his jaw set. I should have been scared. I wasn’t. He was sexier than I ever thought possible. He glared at me for what seemed like forever, then he laughed.
“You actually want to help me?” he asked, raking his fingers through his hair until it stood on end.
“I already said there was no way you could stop me.” I held out my hand to seal the deal.
He grabbed it, but instead of shaking, he yanked me close, kissing me soundly and stealing my breath. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on as his tongue nudged its way between my lips. His body was rock hard and hot against mine, his fingertips like fire as he ran them down my backside. Within seconds, he was tugging my skirt up. In moments, he’d be pressing those magic hands against my bare skin.
I was already losing my wits, about to lose myself all over again, just to feel his touch. About to lose sight of my plan as well as that wonderful moment of regaining the upper hand.
With a harsh gasp, I pushed away, stumbling back until I could no longer feel the heat radiating off of him. Looking around, I grabbed the broom and brandished it like a shield.
“We need to get to work,” I told him, not a hint of wavering in my tone as I started to sweep. “See if any of those frames are worth salvaging.”
And to my utter shock and very slight disappointment, he did exactly what I said.
