Page 110 of Bratva's Mercy
By the time I returned to the house, sweaty from spending the last hour away at the gym, the office was done and looked straight out of a magazine. The dark wooden desk he’d talked me into getting when we bought the furniture sat near the window now, wide enough to contain my laptops and security equipment.
Shelves—they must have arrived when I was gone—lined one wall, filled with books I hadn’t bought, small decorative pieces I wouldn’t have chosen, and a few framed black-and-white prints. There was a leather chair behind the desk, deep brown and soft enough that I’d sat in it the first time and immediately understood why Leo had ignored my original plan.
A rug tied the whole thing together. There was even a plant in the corner, which I still wasn’t convinced I could keep alive, though Leo had informed me that if I killed it, he would put a cock cage on me. I was tempted to, just to know what that would feel like, but I didn’t want to hurt something living that Leo had gotten me, so I’d spent half an hour onthe internet learning everything I could about keeping a Dracaena Marginata plant alive.
Now every time I looked around, I felt a stupid pull at the corner of my mouth.
Because the whole room reminded me of him.
Not just because he’d chosen everything, but because he’d cared enough to do it and to put thought into it. Leo had used up every bit of his days off making my house look like someone lived there. Like someone might want to come home to it. He’d argued over rugs, measured walls, ordered things online, called delivery companies, bullied me into approving colors I barely understood, and somehow turned empty spaces into a warm home.
I had spent most of my life making sure other people were safe. Leo had looked at the shell of my house and decided I deserved comfort too.
My phone buzzed against the desk, dragging my attention away from the ridiculous softness threatening to take over my chest. Hazel’s name flashed across the screen, and I leaned back in my chair as I answered.
“Tell me nothing’s on fire.”
“Nothing’s on fire,” she said, her tone brisk. “Yet.”
I closed my eyes. “Hazel.”
“I’m giving you a heads-up before you hear it from someone else. Mr. Morozov booked one of the private suites for tonight.”
My good mood died instantly.
I opened my eyes and stared at the lamp Leo had picked out. “Maxim’s coming in?”
“That’s what the reservation says. Suite three of the Diamond Club. Eleven o’clock. Small party, but you know how that goes.”
Unfortunately, I did.
I rubbed two fingers over the bridge of my nose. I’d takena few days away from the club because things had mostly settled after the mess with Arkady’s people, and Hazel was competent enough that it made hovering unnecessary. She knew the staff, knew the regulars, knew which men needed to be watched and which women could empty a rich idiot’s wallet. If she called, it wasn’t because she needed me to hold her hand.
It was because she knew I would want to be there if Maxim stepped foot inside my club. God forbid anything should go down while I wasn’t there to take care of it.
I groaned and leaned back farther in the chair. The last thing I wanted was to leave the house tonight. Leo was here, and we still hadn’t christened the sex couch. He had to report to the hospital tomorrow, and with his busy schedule, when would I get this alone time with him again? He was always so exhausted after work that we didn’t talk. He ate, we had sex, and he was usually out cold.
But I liked the talking. Liked the way he laid his head on my chest and talked about cars or food or told me hospital horror stories. But if Maxim was going to be at the club, I needed to show my face.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Hazel,” I said on a sigh. “I’ll come in.”
“I figured.”
“Keep suite three sealed until he arrives. No staff inside without your approval, and I want the hallway camera feeds monitored.”
“Already done. His security detail got in touch.”
Fuck, that’s right. I’m no longer working Maxim’s personal security.
“Good. I’ll see you later then.”
I ended the call and sat there for a moment, staring at my phone while irritation crawled through me. It wasn’t Maxim’s fault exactly. He owned the club, and he had every right touse the suite when he wanted. But the timing was shit, and there was a selfish part of me that hated anything interrupting the fragile peace I’d been building with Leo.
I was about to call Nik when a soft knock came at the office door.
“Come in.”
Leo poked his head in, his shoulder braced against the frame. He wore one of my shirts again, his collarbones bare from the too-wide collar, showing off the lovebites on his neck and chest. Last night I’d been ravenous, but it’d been his damn fault for ordering me on the bed with my back arched and my hands above my head. Since I hadn’t been able to use my hands…
