The smallest amount of disquiet flickered through Albert’s eyes. Mine told him to take his concern and go fuck himself with it. He pulled his gaze back to Alexander, whose expression seethed.
As the hostility in the room grew too abrasive to ignore, Mila finally took in our guests. She seemed to focus on the one with a pretty face.
“Don’t get too excited, kotyonok,” I drawled. “He’s your cousin.”
Her lips parted, the grip on my hand eased, and she took in Alexander and the scene more thoroughly now—from his bound wrists, to the man beside him, to the revolver that sat on the table.
I caressed her soft thigh with my thumb. “No better time for a family reunion, don’t you think?”
She swallowed, and, in unveiled aversion toward my dinner party, she said, “A funeral would be a better time than this.”
A smile touched my lips. “As you can see, we’re still working on my pet’s manners.”
Mila either didn’t like the degrading nickname or her manners being criticized because her nails pressed into my hand, leaving little crescent moons behind, if not blood. Her hair was in my face, curly, untamed, and exuding a faint summery scent. While I would usually be annoyed with a resentful woman on my lap who smelled like innocence and sunshine, I wasn’t there yet.
“Do you remember what I said to your papa?” I asked her.
She shook her head, her eyes on Alexander. I couldn’t say I’d ever had my hand between a woman’s thighs while she stared at another man with devotion. The fact he was her cousin didn’t quell the frustration that flared to life.
Pressing my thumb against her clit, I rubbed it in a slow circle. She tried to ignore me as goose bumps rose to her bare skin. The subtle reaction, the feel of how soft and wet she was . . . fuck me. When I continued the motion, her breath slowed to little puffs of air, and a pink flush rose up her neck. She turned her face into my neck and whispered, “Please don’t.”
The soft words ghosted down my spine, melting the irritation to a liquid heat that coiled in my groin, but with her attention back on me, I pulled my hand away. Maybe because she forced “please” past those lips. Or maybe because I knew I could get her off in a room full of men and something in me didn’t like the idea.
“I told your papa if I found him in Moscow before I invited him, we’d need a lot of FedEx boxes to ship you home.” I ran a thumb across her jawline. “Ty pomnish eto?” Do you remember that?
Her eyes finally met mine, iridescently blue and wary, and she shook her head like it had slipped her mind. I wanted to smile because, fuck, she was kind of adorable. But the awkward fact I thought that about anyone other than my niece quelled the impulse.
“Considering it wasn’t your papa I found but two of his men, we need to discuss a different course of action.” I reached into my suit pocket and set a single golden bullet on the table. “Since you’re so fond of games, shall we play one the Russian way?”
She stared at the bullet for a long second before Alexander interrupted the thick silence.
“She has nothing to do with this,” he snarled.
Viktor got to his feet to cut out Alexander’s tongue for speaking, but I stilled him with a hand, and he sat back down.
It was when I met Albert’s severe gaze, I recognized everyone in the room believed Mila would be on the other end of the barrel with a chance of one out of six. Dry amusement filled me at the ridiculous realization.
I wasn’t going to shoot Mila.
I hadn’t even fucked her yet.
Albert seemed mollified by whatever he saw in my expression, but I was no longer amused. My gaze hardened, telling him I would do whatever I wished with Mila, and he wouldn’t intervene. As he held my stare, a dark, ruthless heat emerged at the idea he might actually be challenging me. I didn’t want to fight Albert, and it wasn’t because I thought he would win. He wouldn’t. In fact, beating him half to death in prison after he insulted my brother even though he had three inches and thirty pounds on me was one of the reasons I gained his loyalty. He was also . . .