Ravaged Throne: A Russian Mafia Romance (Solovev Bratva #2)

She chews slowly, sensually, her eyes never leaving mine. Imagine this is Leo in my mouth, she’s saying.

The moment the thought crystallizes, I see it unfold in my mind’s eye. I picture Brit getting on her knees in front of Leo. I see her unzipping his pants and pulling out his dick. I see his head tilt back as she takes him between those perfectly plump lips and sucks him off with all the confidence and power that I can never seem to muster.

I only snap out of the waking nightmare when Brit cranes her neck towards Leo and bends her lips to his ear. She whispers something to him.

There’s an ease in their body language that makes me feel queasy. Maybe it’s a good thing I haven’t eaten since yesterday.

Leo’s eyes snap to Brit’s. He looks… annoyed? At least, I think he does. But that may just be wishful thinking on my part.

He says something to her. I don’t catch the words, but his tone is harsh and commanding. Brit just laughs, though, and turns back to me.

“Something you probably don’t know about Leo,” she says. “He’s funny. He just doesn’t mean to be.”

I bite down on my tongue and choose to stare at the cheese plate in front of me. I’m desperately craving alcohol. There’s wine on the table, but I already know I’m going to need something stronger.

“Can I feed you something, Mr. Solovev?” Brit murmurs.

She doesn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she plucks a strawberry from the cheeseboard, takes a bite, and then offers the rest to Leo.

That feeling in my chest is growing. It’s cold at first, but it’s the kind of cold that burns, makes it harder and harder for me to breathe.

A phrase comes floating up from the recesses of my memory.

If someone is in your way, remove them. Anya’s words, spoken to me in the midst of an endless training session, when my muscles burned and all I wanted was to quit.

If someone is in your way, remove them. Anya’s philosophy, shown to me in every single thing she’s done since the day I was born to her. I was in her way back then, so I was removed. That should have given me a new lease on life. But it didn’t. It just meant that one day, she’d come back and claim me. And she’s done exactly that.

If someone is in your way, remove them. Brit is in my way now, and I want her the fuck out of here. I can imagine it so perfectly. The sight of my fist, burying itself in her face. All that red blood on all that blonde hair.

“I’m not hungry,” I mutter, pushing my chair back. “Excuse me.”

“What’s wrong, honey?” Brit asks innocently. “Something the matter?”

“Don’t call me honey,” I say, my tone dripping poison.

She smirks and glances at Leo. “It would seem your precious little wife is jealous.”

Leo looks right at me, his eyes sharp and filled with fire. “No. Not possible. She can’t be jealous. She’d have to care to be jealous. Isn’t that right, Willow?”

This is his payback for what I said in the room this morning. For claiming I don’t love him. For throwing my hatred of him in his face. This is punishment for that.

“Fuck you,” I hiss. “Fuck you both.”

I twist around and head towards the stairs.

“Wait.”

I hate myself for stopping, but his voice sends a current straight through my body. I glance at him—at them, rather.

“My room. Not yours.”

I narrow my eyes and shake my head. The moment I do, I realize my mistake. He snaps his fingers and two guards materialize out of nowhere.

They drag me up the stairs to Leo’s room.

I struggle, but I don’t scream. This is humiliating enough without me adding fuel to the flames. I can feel her eyes on me the entire time.

She’s laughing at me.

And as she does, the thought runs through my head one more time. With all the violence and fire that my mother infused in it.

If someone is in your way…

Remove them.





16





LEO





“Get off.”

With a laugh, Ariel gets off my lap and retakes the chair opposite me. She crosses her legs and reaches for the wine. “You have to admit, that was fun.” She swirls the wine in the deep glass and takes a long sip, then swallows, sighs, and smacks her lips as though she’s finally found the relief she was craving.

“Since when do you drink red?” I ask. “That was always his preference.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you even like the taste?”

She shrugs. Her smile falters for an instant before she regains control of it. “It transports me,” she says quietly. “I can almost imagine kissing him if I drink enough of the stuff.”

“Not sure you need any more alcohol right now.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Alcohol is the only thing that’s kept me going these past eight years.”

“I was hoping you’d say it was me.”

The smile comes back, but it’s darker now. Half-hearted. “She’s kinda perfect for you, you know,” Ariel observes grudgingly. “I might actually like her if she didn’t look at me like she wanted to take my head off.”

“Can you blame her?”

“I tortured her a little so that he wouldn’t torture her a lot,” she says defensively. “I had a role to play.”

“You don’t have to lecture me.”

“That’s not why she hates me. You do realize that, don’t you?”

I grab a beer and take a swig. “Who knows what’s going on in that head of hers? Anya’s definitely fucked with her.”

“It’s not like you to play coy,” she says pointedly. “It’s charming—but out of character.”

“Ariel…”

“She hates me because of what she thinks is between us. I think that’s your strongest point of entry right there.”

“You’re underestimating how stubborn she is.”

“And you’re underestimating how hot you are.”

“Ariel…”

“I only do it because it makes you uncomfortable,” she quips. “A girl’s gotta have some fun, you know?”

Her smile deepens and transforms. It becomes warmer. For a moment, I see a flash of the girl she used to be before circumstance turned her hard and cunning. Before life broke her in ways that cannot be fixed.

I head upstairs to my room. Patrik and Moritz are standing guard outside. I dismiss them with a nod and go in.

Willow is standing in front of the window, her back to me. The moment she hears the click of the door shutting, she turns around slowly. Her eyes are shining but she’s not crying. She just looks… broken.

I know I’m pushing her. I know I’m not being kind.

But I never promised to be fucking kind. I can only be what I am: the man who always gets what he wants.

“Are you fucking her?”

Willow’s question is direct and certain, unwavering in a way she wasn’t always capable of. She wants a clear answer. An end to the torment of not knowing.

A kind man would put her out of her misery. Unfortunately for her, I’m the farthest thing from it.

“Why do you care?”

She glares and crosses her arms over her chest. She’s still in her tight blue jeans and black crop top. I can see the toned abs of her stomach, and her strength is fucking sexy. She’s not wearing makeup, but she doesn’t need any.

It would probably only get smudged anyway.

“Cut the shit, Leo,” she snaps. “What’s your deal with her?”

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