Page 54 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

Chapter Fourteen

Liya

“Morning,” I whisper as I take my usual seat at the dining room table. Viktoria pours me a cup of tea. “Thank you.”

She nods and retreats to the kitchen, the door swinging lightly behind her. For a split second, I wonder if she cleaned up after Pavel and I had our little adventure in there. I flush as I lift the cup to my lips. When I sip it, I sigh with relief.

Pavel slides past me, running his fingers over my shoulder. “Good morning,rodnaya.”

“Morning.”

His fingers linger for a moment. The warmth of them rivals my tea. A smile skitters across my lips that he notices as he sits in the chair next to me.

I cock my head. “Not your usual position.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Hardly.”

He smiles, though the humor doesn’t exactly reach his eyes. Viktoria sets a cup of coffee next to him. The scent of it makes my stomach growl. I pretend like it doesn’t embarrass me.

And I fail spectacularly as my cheeks flush with heat.

To my relief, Pavel doesn’t mention my growling gut. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, I guess. You came in late.”

“Business often runs late.”

I hum.Not lately though.

I move my hands out of the way when Viktoria sets a plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and a yogurt parfait in front of me. My mouth instantly waters.

While lifting my fork, I say, “Did you meet with Kiril?”

His eyes flash with something—I’m not sure what it is because it’s gone before I can try to figure it out. He lifts his fork and offers an emotionless nod. “He made amends to me, and I sent him on a mission.”

“What mission?”

“He’s the arrow heading straight for Cardona’s heart.”

I pause mid-chew. Did I just hear that correctly?

When I swallow my food, I whisper, “You ordered a hit on Cardona?”

“War requires strategy.”

Will it really happen that quickly?“And are you still trying to disband the NYPD network?”

He nods. “That’s the plan. My brigadiers are tracking their movements.”

“Are they coming up with much?”

“Their efforts are enthusiastic, but their reports are dry.”

I nibble on a piece of toast while staring off into space. “There’s got to be a way we can track them more thoroughly. We’re probably losing a lot of data on footwork.”

Pavel observes me quietly. I’ve grown used to this, almost encouraged by the way he patiently sits back as I think. I try not to let it get to my head.

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