Page 43 of Blood Oath Christmas
“Only me,” Viktor says. “He wanted the message hand-delivered.”
“He’s going to try and blackmail me with it,” I say, disgust pouring through my voice.
Viktor nods. “He’ll use it as leverage to try and force you to marry Mila.”
I laugh. “Like that will work. Damn, Mila must have called her dad the second she left me and Ivy in the garden for Ivan to already be trying to come up with something.”
I pause for a moment and scrub my jaw. “We need to tighten down the house just in case Ivan gets a wild hair up his ass and decides to do something stupid.”
Viktor nods. “On it.”
He reaches for the door, then stops with his hand on the latch. “One more thing,” Viktor says without turning. “About Baratino.”
He’s switched the subject to my restaurant which means that was his true purpose for seeking me out. “What about it?”
“I’ve been at this since before sunrise—bank managers, a clerk who files the shells, a night cleaner with a long memory and a short temper. Looking for who has been cooking your books and stealing from the restaurant.” He looks over his shoulder now, meets my eyes. “I have a name in mind. The pulls happen on days only a handful could touch the deposits. I won’t say who I suspect yet, but if I’m right, it’s someone we both know and trust.”
23
IVY
Iwake suddenly with the feeling of being watched. And I’m not wrong. Mila’s face is the first thing in focus when my eyes blink open. She sits in a chair at the foot of my bed, one leg crossed over the other, filing her nails with leisurely strokes. The sound is a soft rasp, over and over, a little metronome for dread.
My heart rate spikes before my brain catches up. The lamp on the dresser throws a pool of warm light across her cream coat and glossy red hair. Her gaze never leaves me. It’s a cool, fixed glare that says she’s here for a purpose and plans to enjoy every second of it.
“How did you—” The question comes out hoarse. Sleep still clings to my voice.
She smiles without warmth and pauses with the nail file just inches from her fingers to cock her head at me. “You should get used to no privacy if you plan to live here.”
My mouth tightens in anger as I push myself into a sitting position. My first thought is to pull the blanket up to my chest, but I disregard that. Doing so would give the impression that Mila intimidates me, and I’m not going to give her that satisfaction.
“Get out.” My voice is calm and controlled.
“Not yet.” Her tone stays light, like this is a social call. “I came to do you a favor.”
“Breaking into my room isn’t a favor.”
“Convincing you not to ruin your life is.” She sets the file on the arm of the chair and leans forward, elbows on her knees. Her green eyes narrow. “Don’t marry Konstantin.”
I lift my chin and meet her gaze squarely. “What I do or don’t do is none of your business.”
“Konstantin is mine,” she says with a low growl. “He always has been.”
“Does he know that?” I ask sarcastically, drawing an irritated frown from the other woman. “Because, last I checked, he askedmeto marry him—not you.”
I lean back against the headboard, my arms crossed over my chest as I try to act as casual as possible. I may not want Mila to know she intimidates me, but she does. Mostly because I don’t know anything about her. Because she’s like the equivalent of a princess in her Mafia family. For all I know, she could be hiding a gun under that fur coat she’s wearing. My eyes drop to her lap as fear skids across my nerves.
Does she have a gun? Has she come here to kill me and get me out of the way so she can marry Konstantin?
“He’s only marrying you because there’s a price on your head and he has some kind of blood oath to protect you,” Mila says, dragging me out of my panicked thoughts. “He doesn’t love you.”
My chin jerks up a notch. The insult hits home. I know Konstantin doesn’t love me. I don’t love him either, but it still hurts that my marriage will be so—impersonable.
Not after that kiss. Not with the way his heated gaze follows me around. Not with the desire barely banked in his eyes. Things between us will definitely be ‘personal’.
But no love.
“He doesn’t love you, either, Mila.” I’m surprised at how calm my voice is. “Now, please get out of my room and find someone else to bother. I have a wedding to prepare for.”
