Page 24 of Toxic Temptation
“Are you questioning my ability to protect this Bratva, Afanasy?”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, but his pride won’t let him back down. “I’m questioning your judgment. Your father never would have?—”
“My father is dead. I ampakhannow. And if you have a problem with my leadership, you’re welcome to leave.”
“Maybe I should.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Even the traffic outside seems to stop.
Osip and Pavel move to flank me, their hands drifting toward their weapons. The other men take subtle steps away from Afanasy, reading the wind.
But I hold up a hand. “No. I’m going to give Afanasy one chance—one—to remember who he swore his oath to. To get on his knees and beg forgiveness for his disrespect.”
Afanasy’s chest rises and falls rapidly. His watery eyes dart around the room, looking for support he won’t find.
“Well?” I ask softly. “What’s it going to be?”
For a moment, I think he might actually do it. Might swallow his pride and submit.
Then he spits at my feet.
I sigh.Stupid old fool.
I don’t even blink. Just reach for the custom Swiss Army knife that my brother Vitalii gave me for my thirtieth birthday and flip it open with one smooth motion.
“Judgment day, Afanasy.”
What happens next is swift and brutal. Osip and Pavel grab him before he can run. My knife finds the soft spot between his ribs. A thought scorches across my mind—an idle thought, a ridiculous thought—as I rip Afanasy open at the seams.
I wonder if Vesper would admire my technique.
Then Afanasy hits the concrete with a wet thud. I wipe my blade clean on his shirt and straighten up, letting my gaze sweep over the remaining men.
“Anyone else have concerns about my leadership?”
Silence.
“Abram?” I single out Afanasy’s former partner. “Any reservations?”
The man’s face has gone gray, but he shakes his head quickly. “None whatsoever,pakhan.”
“Excellent.” I snap my fingers at two of my younger soldiers, then point at Afanasy’s corpse. “Clean this up. Make it disappear.”
As the men scatter to handle their various tasks, I walk back toward the house with Osip and Pavel stepping alongside me. That thorn pulled out of my side should make me happier. But my thoughts remain scattered. Half of them still linger in a turquoise folder tucked away in my filing cabinet.
“You okay, Ko?” Osip asks, his voice carefully neutral.
“Fine.” I force myself to focus. “Double the security around Luka. And I want eyes on Ihor twenty-four seven.”
“Already done,” Pavel confirms. “What about the doctor?”
My step falters for just a second. “What about her?”
“Should we keep monitoring her? In case she becomes a problem?”
I pause. Only a second or so of real time passes, but in my head, I’m reliving the entirety of our interaction, from the moment Vesper came charging down that hallway to the feeling of tile cracking beneath my knees when I saw that she’d done it, she’d saved Luka, that I wasn’t going to lose him the way I lost Vitalii. I see the curve of her spine when she turned her back to me in that cramped, overheated dressing room. I see the tiny smudge left by her lips on the rim of the wine glass at dinner. Most of all, I see the fear warring with the hurt in her eyes when I told her that we’d never speak to each other again. I feel that hurt. I am that hurt.
“No,” I say finally. “She’s not our concern anymore.”
