Page 69 of Devil's Vows
Worst of all is I can’t take the stairs two at a time to get to her and pull her out of that shower and into my arms to comfort her. Help her…show her that what she’s experienced isn’t how it is. I can’t drop to my knees, splay her open with a leg over my shoulder, and kiss her, lick and suck her until she comes, her hands clinging to my hair, dripping cold water all over me.
This is fucking madness.
I swipe to close the app on my phone, put it down on the counter, and drag my fingers through my hair. She isn’t going to get off while I watch her like the fucking stalker I am, because she’s a good Catholic girl and doesn’t do that type of thing, or?
There are so many reasons, so many layers to this woman, and I can’t just tear through them. On the other hand, every day waited is a day wasted.
“Pakhan.”
Yuri’s footsteps sound behind me, and I suppress a groan.
“Yes?” I hate the intrusion, but already, Irisha and Katya are making a mess behind my back, and I need my thoughts channeled away from Gabriella. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
He comes around to me, and I nod toward the coffee machine when I spot the brown envelope in his hand. Letter-sized. Blank. No label. Slightly wet as if it lay in the dew.
“Another drone-drop this morning.”
Fuck. It’s unopened, but our security team would have subjected it to standard protocol tests for poison before sending it my way. “It’s clean?”
“Yup.”
Of course it’s fucking clean. It’s extortion, not assassination. I take it from him and place it on the counter next to my phone. I can’t deal with this shit right now.
Yuri’s gaze jumps over my shoulder, and I curse my life as I hear my sister’s footsteps.
“What’s this?” Milana’s soft voice cuts through the silence.
I close my eyes, suppressing another groan. Should have stayed in bed this morning. Even better, should have gotten into it with Gabriella and the girls and cuddled.
But this… For weeks, I would have given anything for Milana to stroll into the kitchen at this time of the morning as she used to, getting coffee before she warms up at the piano. More than an hour of scales, arpeggios, octaves, drills, and everything else she does. Breakfast. Two hours of practice, polishing difficult passages. Lunch. Walk. Repeat. More coffee.
Now all I want is for her to leave. I place my hand over the envelope, already knowing what it is, wanting to protect her.
“Ivan?” she asks as she comes up to the kitchen island, eyes on the envelope.
I take it off the counter and glance at her. She looks better. Probably had a good night’s rest for the first time in months. Thanks to Gabriella. “It’s nothing.”
“And yet, every time there’s one of thesethat’snever for me, everybody goes around as if I’ve drowned a litter of kittens.”
Yuri raises his hands in the classic I-give-up gesture, walks over to the coffee machine, and starts making a cup. “You can’t hide it from her forever, Pakhan.”
With one word, he’s put me in that godawful position. The one where she is no longer my sister to protect, but a woman in the Bratva—one that’s been causing trouble. Trouble I need to deal with.
Ice-blue eyes meet ice-blue eyes in a dare as Milana reaches for the envelope in my hand and tugs. I let go. Let her have a look. At erotic photos of her, taken by who knows, that some fucker has been dropping via drones latelyintoour property. No longer just by the gate. It took us a hot minute to figure this out and now the fuckers are getting cocky.
“Thank you,” she says as she turns away from me, already ripping at the envelope.
I rub at my eyes and drag my hand down my face with a sigh, waiting for her reaction.
She knew about the photos I got the hacker to scrub off the internet, but this… I’ve been able to protect her from this since the first fucking envelope. Now I feel like a failure. I don’t know who sends the shit, or what to do about it, or even worse, what the fuck do they want?
Gabriella, gorgeous, beautiful, sweet Gabriella, chooses this moment to walk into the room. She homes in on the girls, who have been left to their own devices with the Lucky Charms. “Oh, gosh, girls, what a party!”
I only notice now that Irisha tried to pour more into her bowl, but something went wrong, and the entire contents of the box is overflowing from her bowl onto the table.
Milana shoots the spectacle a quick glance, but she has the envelope open now and she pulls out a photo. She freezes, the photo only out halfway. I can’t see what’s printed on it, but Idon’t care to. I’ve had my fill. She pulls out another, also only halfway, and now she’s visibly quivering.
