Page 74 of The Enemy Protector
“I’ve been watching you for a long time, Sofia.”
There it is again. That admission that he’s been surveilling me. Tracking my movements. Knowing things about me I never gave him permission to know.
“That’s creepy,” I say.
“That’s protection.”
“No, protection is standing between a bullet and me. What you’ve been doing is stalking.”
He almost smiles. “Call it what you want. It kept you alive.”
I want to argue, but he’s not wrong. If his men hadn’t been there at the park, at the club, I’d probably be dead.
I hate that I keep finding reasons to agree with him.
18
Sergei
I watch Sofia move through the crowd. The black dress draws attention exactly the way I knew it would. Every head turns when we enter. The other family heads are already seated, drinks in hand, conversations pausing mid-sentence when they see her.
I see a few of the women smirk. They’ve all had their own arranged marriages. They respect her defiance.
“Sokolov.” Castellano stands first, extending his hand. “Congratulations.”
I shake it, keeping Sofia close to my side. “Thank you for coming.”
The Yee brothers approach next, offering their congratulations with the polite distance that characterizes all our interactions. The Irish contingent follows. Everyone is here. Everyone sees.
That’s the point.
Sofia handles herself well. Better than I expected, actually. She shakes hands and accepts congratulations. I realize she knowsmost of them. They all ask about her father. She has practiced her response. She smiles, kisses cheeks and asks about families to deflect.
I feel a sharp, unwelcome surge of pride.
We’re halfway through the first course when I hear the commotion.
“Sir,” one of my guards appears at my elbow. “Yuri Baranov is here. Demanding entry.”
Sofia’s hand freezes halfway to her wine glass. She looks at me. I see the flash of fear before she masks it.
“Let him in,” I say, my eyes still holding hers.
“Sergei—” she starts.
“Let him in,” I repeat. “He’s going to find out eventually. Might as well be now. Let him see.”
The guard nods and disappears. Conversations around us have gone quiet. Every man in this room has survived long enough to know what that kind of quiet means.
Yuri storms in, eyes scanning the room until they land on us. He looks from me to Sofia. She’s wearing a black dress, but even so, he knows what this is.
I stand slowly, buttoning my jacket. Sofia rises beside me. Her hand catches mine for half a second. That brief contact sharpens everything.
Kirill stands beside me. I feel another one of my men behind me.
“Yuri,” I say calmly. “What a surprise.”
The other family heads are all watching. No one moves. I feel the tension. It’s a weapon-free dinner. At least that’s what the invitation stated. I know damn well everyone is strapped. My men are. They’re all waiting to see if bullets fly.
