I have no idea what “the cabin” is, but I nod, making myself agreeable. I’ll have to cancel the few massage sessions I have booked, but it’s not like I have any choice, here, is it?
Ravil’s always played the part of the benevolent dictator to our community—the Russians living in his building. Our rent is low—probably one-quarter what it should be for such a beautiful building and highly-prized location. In return, we offer our loyalty. If the cops come asking questions, suddenly no one speaks English. When Ravil tells us no strangers are allowed in the building, we obey his rules and bend to his will.
My mother didn’t want to accept his generosity because she knew what he was, but she was drowning in debt from getting her Nurse Practitioner licensing to practice midwifery in the United States. She moved into the Kremlin for me—so I’d have a fighting chance at affording college—but she always cautioned me to keep my distance from the tattooed men who serve as our self-appointed protectors.
Ravil turns to look at Dima. “I’ll let you sort the rest of it out with her in private as you see fit.”
My stomach flip-flops as Dima turns an assessing gaze on me.
Does that mean he’ll be punishing me somehow? In a way that requires privacy? I resist the urge to swallow, knowing he’ll see it.
Dread mingles with something else. Something more...intriguing. A heat coils in my core now, thawing the ice that was clogging my veins.
“Yes,” Dima agrees, his blue gaze on me stony and hard. “I will deal with her.”
Dima
I watch Natasha squirm under my stare. I hated when she shook and trembled over answering to Ravil, but I don’t mind it so much now that I’m the one in charge of her.
Ravil just remanded her into my custody. Part of me wanted to refuse—I can hardly stand to look at her after the way she played me—but the thought of her having to answer to anyone else makes me want to punch the wall in.
If she’s going to be punished for her sins, it will come from me.
Not that I’m the sadist in our bratva cell. That would be Pavel, through and through. I suspect Ravil and Maxim also get a little kinky with their wives—and Gospodi, yes, I wish I didn’t know that, but living in the same suite makes some dynamics a bit hard to hide.
I don’t have big plans to torture Natasha. I’m still too pissed off to even speak to her at the moment, but having her managed by anyone else would only enrage me further.
“Is there anything else you need to tell me?” Ravil asks Natasha. “Anything you’re keeping from me?”
Blyad’.
Based on the way she goes a little pale and starts scratching at her fingernail, I know there is something.
What now, my beautiful traitor?
“Um… I have a cat.”
It takes me a moment to assimilate her words, and I have to ignore the way my heart flip-flops in my chest.
She has a cat. That’s her last big secret.
There is no way this girl is a mole. She’s far too innocent. She’s not working with the Feds. She got played by a guy and then played me to make him happy. I fight the urge to forgive her for everything.
She rushes on, “I know we’re not allowed to have pets in the building, but I found him abandoned as a kitten, and he needed nursing back to health, and then… I just couldn’t let him go.”
Gospodi, she’s adorable. I rub my face to hide my fascination with her. This is why I find this girl intoxicating. Addictive. She’s so youthful—pure and precious. Undamaged. A bright light in a world with so few bright lights.
Ravil’s lips twitch. “I already knew about your unsanctioned pet.”
“You did?”
He touches his fingertips together. “Very little happens in my building that I don’t know about, Natasha.”
Thanks to my cyberstalking, of course.
He sits back. “I will have someone stop in and feed your furry friend while you are at the cabin and your mother is in Russia.”
She ducks her head. “Thank you.”
“Go back and see if Dr. Taylor requires your assistance.”
She stands, her high heels making her slender legs appear even longer than usual. I loathe the revealing dress she’s wearing. That she wore it for him. In my irrational and over-emotional state, it seems like Nikolai got shot because she put that fucking dress on for Alex.
Ravil waits until the door to the clinic shuts then asks, “What do you think?”
“I’m inclined to believe her,” Maxim says.
I scrub my hand across my face. “Me too, but my judgment is shit when it comes to her.”
“Obviously,” Maxim says drily.
“Svetlana’s in Russia now? The timing of that is suspicious,” Maxim muses.
Svetlana is Natasha’s mother, the proud and stubborn midwife who delivered Ravil’s baby, Benjamin.
“Right. She could’ve gotten her mother out of harm’s way before taking this risk.” Ravil looks at me. “Look into it. See if you can find out exactly where she is now and what she’s doing.”
“I left my computer in the hotel room.”
“Adrian or Oleg would’ve taken it. I’ll have someone drive out to the cabin tomorrow with food and supplies,” Ravil says.
“Thank you,” I mutter.
Ravil’s eyes narrow as he considers me. “Are you going to tell me if you find anything after you investigate her?”
He’s asking whether I’ll protect Natasha from him if it comes down to it.
I hesitate. Would I protect her? Fuck yes. The instinct is there. Even as angry as I am with her, I’d still take a bullet for that girl in a heartbeat. But would I hold back information from my pakhan for her?
No. Ravil is the fairest man I know. If Natasha’s trouble for us, I trust him better than I trust myself to handle things.
I nod. “Yeah.” I scrub a hand over my face. “I’m sorry about the car—”
“We’re good,” Ravil interrupts. “I understand she’s your soft spot.”
“More like my fucking Kryptonite,” I mutter. Because Natasha single-handedly wreaked me tonight, and I’m usually the one who’s thought of and prepared for everything. I lost all reason when she looked at me with those sea-green eyes and asked for a favor that made no sense.
The door from the clinic opens, and Dr. Taylor comes out, Natasha trailing behind. “I’m finished. I repaired the colon and put a drain in. He’s on a drip of painkillers and antibiotics. Moving him isn’t advised, but you obviously can’t keep him here.” He addresses Ravil but includes me in his eye contact. “Natasha knows how to administer the drip and adjust the drain. I’ve packed up the supplies you’ll need. I’d like daily updates and am willing to do a home visit in the next forty-eight hours to check on his progress if that’s… agreeable.”
“Video or teleconferencing would be preferred,” Ravil answers smoothly. Showing an outsider the location of the cabin would defeat the point of having the cabin. Of course, Natasha would know now, unless I make her cover her head with a hood, an idea that turns my stomach.
Dr. Taylor nods. “That’s fine. Let’s video tomorrow, so I can take a look at everything. I’ll send you with a pressure cuff as well.” He glances at Natasha. “You know how to use it, I assume?”