Page 66 of Victor's Lethal Desire
"This is different." Her voice hardens with conviction. "He wouldn't allow it."
"Well, Bogdan had tons of pictures in his desk. Did you see them? Those women bound and terrified."
"I saw them," she says quickly, her voice dropping. "But I don't know who he was or what he's a part of, and that doesn't mean..."
"Doesn't mean what?" I ask, keeping my tone gentle. "That the Volkovs are capable of it? Danika, you don't get to where they are in life by being saints."
Her jaw clenches. I can see the war playing out behind her eyes. She wants to defend them, to believe they're above this, but the doubt is creeping in.
"Do you think I'm lying?" I ask.
"No," she says after a long pause. "But what if you're mistaken?"
"I'm not. We have records. Proof. It's what got Maxim killed."
Her expression falters, the cracks in her armor showing. She rubs her face, exhaling sharply. "I didn't know it was because of that."
"There's a lot you don't know. Which means there's a lot I don't know." I shift closer, my thigh brushing hers. "So tell me, who exactly holds your allegiance? Who sent you after that tablet?"
She drops her hands, looking at me. "I was tasked with getting the intel because I think the family feels he's going rogue or something. I don't know."
"Who thinks that?"
"His brother."
"His brother?" I repeat, processing this. I didn't know Dimitri had a brother, let alone one pulling strings behind the scenes. Why would his own brother accuse the leader of the Bratva ofgoing rogue, though? Self-interest, maybe? Trying to edge him out to take over?
"Yeah, Ivan," she says, her voice softening. "If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead on the streets of Moscow."
The vulnerability in her eyes shifts the entire energy of the room. The mafia politics fade into the background, replaced by the raw truth of the woman sitting beside me.
"Dead on the streets? What happened to you?" I ask soft enough that she'll continue to open up to me.
She looks away, staring at the wall. "My parents were murdered when I was young. Collateral damage in a Bratva dispute. Ivan took me in. He saved me from being hunted down next. He fed me, housed me, and trained me."
She looks back at me, her blue eyes filled with mixed emotions. "He made me a weapon. It's all I've ever known how to be. A cleaner. A ghost who fixes other people's mistakes."
My chest tightens. I reach out, my fingers wrapping gently around her wrist, pulling her slightly closer. "I know exactly what that feels like."
She tilts her head. "Don't mess with me."
"I'm serious. My father, Nicolae," I say, the name stirring up a bit of anger in me. "He didn't care who my brothers and I were as men. He only cared about what we could do for his empire. We were tools to him. Instruments meant to be pointed and fired to keep his paranoia at bay."
"Is that why you became a politician?" she asks softly.
"Exactly," I say, my hand sliding up her arm. "I refused to be just a weapon. I wanted to control my own board. Make my own name. I built my political career so I could protect my brothers, my circle, on my own terms."
Danika leans into my touch, her eyes searching mine. "Must be nice. I'm tired of being the weapon, Victor," she says, a confession that feels heavier than anything else she's said tonight. "I always think maybe after this job or that job, I'll disappear, but I can't. What would I do? Be alone with nothing but time on my hands?"
The admission strikes a chord deep inside me. I've felt that way before, too. Before I leaned on my political endeavors.
Shit, not only is she lethal, brilliant, and terrifying, but underneath all of it, she just wants to be free.
I stroke my thumb across her cheek. "Don't disappear on me, Danika," I say, my voice dropping.
The tension from everything has completely changed, leaving only the charged pull between us.
I want to push to find out more about Dimitri's brother, Ivan, but it doesn't feel right now. Plus, we'll have the morning to discuss things.
