The Monster (Boston Belles #3) - L.J. Shen Page 0,138

of her dress and pulled her down for a filthy, deep kiss.

“Not at all. Sometimes I’ll keep you on your back, too. And on all fours. But whatever your position, I promise you’ll fucking enjoy it.”

The following evening, Troy parked in front of Vasily Mikhailov’s Russian deli in Brookline. He tossed me a doubtful look.

“You sure you wanna do this? You can tell her you did it, and she’ll be none the wiser. I know you’ve worked hard to conquer Brookline.”

“Whatever happened to chewing more than I could swallow?”

“Just playing devil’s advocate before you make a move.”

“You don’t have to play devil’s advocate with me. I know what goes on inside the devil’s head.” I pushed the passenger door open, sliding out and cocking my gun as I did. I heard Troy doing the same behind me. We rounded his car, popping the trunk open. Vasily’s daughter, Masha, blinked at the sudden light coming from behind our shoulders, her mouth gagged, her hands and feet tied together behind her back.

I smiled cordially. “Miss Mikhailov, thank you for contributing to our cause.”

She murmured something hysterical around the fabric covering her mouth, but I couldn’t distinguish it.

“What’s that?” I asked. “Never mind. You were never captured for your conversational skills. Only as a pawn to ensure your daddy knows I will slaughter you if he doesn’t bend to my will.”

I hoisted her up over my shoulder, marching toward the deli.

The bell above the deli’s door chimed as we stepped inside. I aimed my gun toward the shop owner with my free hand, an elderly Russian man with a weather-beaten face marred with red and blue from years of braving the cold. Masha was still draped over my shoulder, like a pig on its way to slaughter, still dressed in the same expensive coat and designer heels she wore on her shopping spree this morning.

“Where’s Vasily?” I clipped.

The man’s eyes flared at the sight in front of him. Masha thrashed desperately, trying to wriggle out of my hands.

“I … I …” he started, knowing full well he was not allowed to let people into the back office. That was where his boss was situated.

I turned my aim from his head to Masha’s spine, digging the gun into her bones. “Better fucking hurry or you’ll have to explain to your boss why his daughter’s guts are spilled all over your floor. I’m guessing it’ll be a bitch to clean up, too. Though, I doubt he’ll spare your life after letting it happen.”

“Come with me!” the man blurted out, jumping from his place behind the counter, rounding it and pushing an old wooden door open.

The place smelled of pickles, dried meat, and smoke. I followed the man’s back, Troy at my heels. After passing through a narrow, dusty corridor we reached another door. He opened it.

Vasily was at his desk, surrounded by three of his high-ranked men. He had the pointy, fox-look of a comic book villain, which he highlighted with good suits and bad manners. But not even a fucking ball gown could hide the fact that his face was riddled with knife scars. My initials—S.A.B.—were carved into his forehead, jagged and white.

His bodyguards were on alert, two on each side, all of them possessing the peculiar look of semitrailers and similar IQs. The middle-aged man with silver hair and pale blue eyes looked up at me, putting his cigar down in an ashtray, sending smoke whirling to the ceiling.

“Brennan. You’re alive.”

“And you’re surprised.” I rearranged Masha on my shoulder. Even though I used my healthy shoulder to carry her and not the one his men put a bullet through, I still wasn’t my usual self. Normally, carrying a woman of Masha’s slight weight was akin to wearing a goddamn scarf.

“And I see you brought your daddy.” Vasily’s eyes slid from me to Troy, who stood beside me.

“Seemed fair,” Troy clipped dryly, “seeing as you have an entire army surrounding you. Not used to doing the dirty work anymore, are you, Vasily?”

“And it shows. Two bullets, and not one pierced my heart,” I tsked, shaking my head. “My toddler nephew has better aim in the toilet while potty training.”

Masha twisted in my arms, responding to her father’s words and tenor. I drugged her a little—enough to keep her silent and easy to manage—and I knew these animals were wondering if I used the opportunity to shove my dick in her, and maybe even arranged it so a Brennan bastard was inside her to ensure