Page 9 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
With a sigh, I pull out the lipstick I hid in my bra, which is miraculously still there. I reapply and leave the bathroom.
“If you’re trying to get to Tatiana,” Iosif says, his blue eyes cold, sounding completely American even though I know he’s Russian through and through, “you need to forget it. The only reason I don’t have your head or forced your hand into marrying my son is for your stepmother and your father’s sakes.”
“You were close, I know,” I say evenly. At least he was to Elena. “Tell Tatiana?—”
“Nothing from you.”
“Whatever,” I mutter.
I turn away from him, but he grabs my arm, fingers biting deep into my flesh. “She’s safe here, as are you. When you turn twenty-five…”
“Surely you’ve got more on your plate than my safety,” I say, curling my other hand into a tight fist. “With this merging of families,” I say, sarcasm and disdain dripping from my words.
His eyes narrow. “It’s a mutual act to grow strength, but I won’t bore you with politics. Stanislav was weak and a fool?—”
“And murdered.”
“He died in a bar fight he started, everyone knows that. Don’t even pretend you care beyond the fact that you think his death took away your chance to rule. You’re not a fool, even if you act like one. Run along, Ava. Back to where you came from. My offer stands.”
I try to hide the flinch. “Being under your so-called protection is nothing more than a prison sentence.”
“So be it. But with me, your money issues end.”
“I think,” I say, ripping my arm free of his grasp, “I’ll forgo the rest of the festivities.”
I walk toward the door.
“Be careful, the fireworks display malfunctioned,” he says. “I’d hate for one to accidentally go off if you got too close. I hear the cartel and other unsavory enemies are interested in all things Volkov. Stay inside, and I’ll have a car for you out front with an escort.”
Like hell am I getting into his car. I storm out the door, and it’s not until I get to the party that I slow my gait and skirt the edges of the crowd so I can make my escape. I’m shaking as I slide out through the mostly empty foyer and into the front courtyard. I have a crappy car parked two streets over, so if I leave now, maybe I can check for the crest.
But as soon as I step outside, I let out a frustrated breath. I don’t have my little penlight with me, and it’s too dark to see a damn thing. I didn’t even really see the face of the man who tackled me.
Or rather felt me up.
And then I kissed him.
A wave of heat hits and I ignore it. Iosif’s warning is ice enough to chill the memory.
Shit. What if I’m wrong and he wants to kill me?—?
“Where the fuck are you running off to?”
The Irish voice is soft, warm, and utterly deadly, and it hits me with a jolt of electricity.
He moves quick, light on his feet, and before I can take off, he cages me in the shadows at the edge of the courtyard against the wall. The brick presses into me. And wild heat blooms inside. Everything’s so alive.
“That’s none of your business,” I say, my voice a little breathy. “I was taught not to talk to strangers.”
I keep my eyes down, trying to center myself as he laughs softly. Despite myself, I breathe him in. All that hypnotic, smoky darkness fills me.
For a moment, everything flies high, a roller coaster in my stomach. Then I look up.
And everything goes cold.
Because I know him. He’s…
I squeeze my hands tight, trying to control the fury bubbling in my veins.
