“She was a woman who made her own way in a world dominated by men,” she says. “She may not be the warmest person, but that’s what the Bratva does. It hardens you.”
I roll my eyes. “You think I give two shits about the fact that she’s a cold bitch? I don’t. In fact, I respect it. But Anya Mikhailov is a woman without loyalty. Just like Spartak Belov.”
She shakes her head, and I can tell that nothing I’m saying is getting through to her. “And you have loyalty, do you?”
“Fuck yes, I have loyalty. Loyalty to my men and my Bratva. Anya and Belov? They work only for themselves.”
“She’ll protect him,” she snaps. “He’s her grandson!”
“He’s nothing more to her than a trump card.”
“Like I was to you?”
“I made you my wife,” I say, moving forward. “I gave you my fucking last name. Don’t you understand? You have power as a Mikhailov and you have protection as a Solovev.”
“Don’t pretend that you did this for me.”
“I didn’t do any of it for you,” I admit. “But it’s funny how everything worked in your favor anyway, isn’t it?”
“Don’t. Don’t. You’re trying to get in my head, and I won’t let you.”
I grab her by the neck and pin her against the wall. She barely reacts.
“You can’t intimidate me, Leo,” she whispers. “You’ve made the mistake of telling me that I’m too important to kill.”
I almost smile. “You’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I get whatever the fuck I want,” I growl. “And I will get my son back. With or without your help. But if you help, I might let you see him again.”
I can see the naked fear in her eyes, but she lifts her chin in defiance, apparently forgetting my hand is still around her neck. “My mother will never surrender him to you.”
I shake my head. “You’re putting too much trust in a woman you barely know.”
“She’s my mother.”
“Which means fuck all.” I sigh. “I thought you were smarter than this.”
Her hand curls around my wrist. She doesn’t try to pull my hand away; she just rests hers there and looks in my eyes. “I wasn’t smart enough to see you for who you really are. You had me fooled from the moment we met.”
“Don’t blame yourself for that,” I say, leaning in close. “I’m good at what I do.”
My breath tickles her nose. And then I release her. She inhales sharply and stays pasted against the wall as I turn away.
I want to look back over my shoulder before I leave, but I swallow the instinct.
This game is all about appearances.
And Willow still isn’t ready to see all of me.
10
WILLOW
There is no time.
Now that Leo knows about our son, things are only going to get worse. I have to get out and warn Anya before anything can happen to my baby boy.
The door to my room is locked from the outside, but Anya didn’t just get me a personal trainer—she also taught me plenty of tricks Leo doesn’t know a thing about.
I steal two springs from the soft-close drawers beneath the wardrobe and uncoil them. It’s possible Leo has some advanced type of super lock on the door, but I have nothing left to lose at this point. Might as well try.
I can’t roll over and play the subservient wife. I can’t give up. If the last eleven months have taught me anything, it’s that fighting is the only way to survive in the Bratva.
The black bags my clothes were delivered in are too big to be useful, but it’s fine. I don’t need to take much with me. Just a good coat and a solid pair of boots. I’ll figure everything else out on the way.
Once I’m dressed, I kneel in front of the door and start on the lock. Seconds later, I hear a click.
“No fucking way,” I breathe.
Can it really be this easy?
I decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I open the door as quietly as I can and step out into the corridor. Only one of the hallway lights is on, making the shadows beyond cluster close and thick.
It strikes me that I’m walking through the cabin without a weapon. Maybe I can pick one up when I pass through the kitchen.
I make it all the way downstairs before I hear movement. Unfortunately, it’s coming from the kitchen. No weapon for me, then. I change direction and move towards the front door as silently as possible.
“Ma’am?”
I stop short and turn towards the voice. It’s one of the maids. She takes a tentative step towards me.
“You should be in your room, ma’am,” she says. “It’s late.”
It doesn’t take a genius to understand she’s giving me an order.
Fuck ‘lady of the house.’ All I am to these people is a prisoner.
I plaster a fake smile onto my face and act casual. “I’m just gonna go for a little walk,” I say, knowing there’s zero chance that excuse is going to work. “I’ll be back in, like, fifteen minutes. I need some fresh air.”
Her smile tells me that she’s not buying what I’m selling. “I can open a window for you, ma’am,” she says, edging closer still. “It’s too cold out there for a walk.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. I like the cold.”
“You know there are wild animals in these parts. I’d be careful about going out there at this time of night.”
I wave away her concern. “I can handle it. I was always an outdoorsy kinda gal.”
Her smile is as fake as mine is. “I’m afraid I can’t let you out, ma’am.”
I manage to keep the smile on my face, but just barely. “I don’t see why not.”
“I have my orders, ma’am.”
The smile drops and I narrow my eyes at her. “And what were your orders?”
“To make sure you stayed in your room,” she says pleasantly.
“You do realize that aiding and abetting abduction is a crime, right?”
She doesn’t seem in the least bit concerned as she takes a step toward me. “I’m not worried.”
“Is that because you’re stupid or just delusional?”
She doesn’t seem at all bothered by the insult. “I know Don Solovev will protect me.”
“You’re putting way too much faith in a man you don’t really know.”
“But I do know him,” she says. “I’ve worked for his family since I was eighteen years old. And before I worked for the Solovevs, my mother did. The Solovev brothers protect their own.”
“Do you have a name?” I ask, inching closer to her.
“Nicole.”
“Nicole,” I repeat. “I’m going to give you one chance to do the smart thing and let me walk out of here.”
She sighs. “Like I said, I’m afraid I can’t do that, ma’am.”
I suppress a sigh of my own. “Very well then. Hard way it is.”
I lunge forward and land a punch right on her nose.
I hear a crunch. She stumbles back, and I see the blood oozing between her fingers.
I don’t bother hanging around to find out exactly how much damage my strike did. Instead, I launch myself out of the front door. The moment I’m out, cold air wraps around me like a cloak I can’t remove. The coat I grabbed is doing next to nothing to keep me warm. My teeth are chattering by the time I’ve taken half a dozen steps.