Page 24 of The Bratva's Innocent Sold Bride
“It’s one night,” Mat ground out. “And don’t even think about saying you’ll sleep in there with him.”
That was just what I was about to say. He continued to grumble under his breath about not having his wife sleeping with some dog when I wouldn’t share a bed with him, and I stopped dead halfway to the main house.
“Are you jealous of Thor?” I said, almost scared to tease him, he looked so gruff. But I wasn’t actually teasing. It seemed like he might just be jealous of Thor.
“Damn right I am,” he growled.
Inside the house, he flipped the coffee maker on, and the soft burble couldn’t hide the pitiful sounds coming from the back.
“He’ll stop in a minute,” Mat said as I paced and peered out the window.
Thor did not stop in a minute, or ten, or twenty. That was how long it took before Mat stormed out of the kitchen, snapping at me to stay put. I wrung my hands with worry, but surely the big softie I had seen at that house of horrors wouldn’t hurt my dog, would he?
No. Thor gamboled into the house, nearly tripping Mat in his excitement to see me again. I caught him as he leapt at me and buried my face in his newly fresh fur.
“I knew it,” I said, looking triumphantly at Mat. “I knew it was bothering you, too.”
“Of course, it was bothering me. I’d never get to sleep with all that racket, and it’s unfair to the staff to have to put up with it, too.”
“Okay,” I said, letting him have his excuse.
“He’ll be confined to one room until he gets his flea treatment. He probably has worms, too. Come with me, Artem.”
To my surprise,Thoractually followed him. “Thor!” I said, but he didn’t turn around.
Mat gave me a smug look. “We had a little chat in the pool house. He agrees his name is Artem.”
“Did you threaten him?” I accused, making him crack up.
“I don’t think I’m quite that good. But Artem is a better name, so that’s his name.”
I looked it up on my phone with a scowl until I learned that it was derived from the goddess of the hunt. “Are you going to be a mighty hunter, Artem?” I asked.
We decided to put him in one of the unfurnished downstairs bedrooms, and I ran to find him some proper blankets as well as bring in a bowl of water and some finely chopped up chicken from the dinner leftovers. Mat had found a tennis ball and also had the good idea to tie knots in a dish towel and swung it around in front of Artem until they were playing a rowdy game of tug of war.
“Were those people your enemies?” I asked. The cute scene was making me warm inside. I had to understand what made a ruthless mafia king rescue a bunch of scraggly dogs.
He shrugged. “They were of no consequence to me as far as I know.”
“So why did you interfere?”
“Are you so shocked that I might be capable of a good deed?” he asked with a dark look, pausing in his game with the dog. “If it’s bothering you, rest assured, it was Masha’s plan, not mine.”
“But you went along with it. You’re…”
“What? Nice? An animal lover? You know my restaurant is a legit business, along with many of my businesses in Moscow.”
“Why keep doing…” I couldn’t seem to finish a sentence.
“Crime?” he asked, and I nodded.
Artem yipped, wanting to play some more, and instead of continuing the tug of war, Mat lightly tossed the tennis ball so that it bounced off the opposite wall, sending the hyper puppy leaping after it.
“Why not just run the legitimate businesses and do more of what you did tonight?”
Mat sighed. “It’s in my blood. This has been my family’s way for generations, and it’s all tied together. I’m no vigilante, and this caper tonight cost me a lot of money—”
“How?” I demanded.
