Rebellion (Cavan Gang #3)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

“ D rat! This is so annoying. What was I thinking?” Sofia grumbled to herself as she stomped her way through the closed restaurant to her office.

How had she forgotten to grab her handbag?

They’d been halfway home before she’d remembered, and she’d had to get Arseni to turn around and drive her back. He was waiting just inside the door of Solynshko while she grabbed her bag.

Idiot!

She was tired after working late and her back was killing her. There were painkillers in her handbag. Hopefully they’d would take the edge off so she could sleep.

Grabbing her handbag, she headed back out. Her head was down as she searched through her purse. Where was her phone?

God. Had she left it somewhere else?

She swore she could barely remember her own name at the moment.

Suddenly, she walked smack into a wall. She barely managed to hold on to her handbag as she flew backward.

Crap!

The landing was going to be hell on her back.

But before she could land on her ass, two large hands grabbed her, pulling her back onto her feet. She stumbled slightly, feeling disorientated, but the hands held onto her waist, steadying her.

“Since when do walls have hands?” she muttered.

A low chuckle greeted her. “Well, lucky for you that this wall does since you’d have landed on your ass otherwise.”

Wait.

Now the wall was talking? This was so weird. Did someone spike her drink?

And even more strange . . . the wall had a Scottish accent.

“A Scottish wall? That’s bizarre,” she said.

The wall laughed.

Dear Lord.

Obviously, not a wall, Sofia!

“You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” he murmured.

She winced, aware that she was acting like an idiot. Blinking, she stared at the man-wall in front of her. Her gaze hit a broad chest encased in a black shirt.

Um. Yum.

Then she raised her gaze up. Then up some more.

“Whoa, you’re tall,” she exclaimed.

Intelligent, Sofia. Really intelligent.

The man-wall grinned. “How big can a wall get?”

“As big as it wants, I imagine. But it seems that Scottish walls are really, really big.”

“That we are.”

Oh, dear Lord.

That double meaning made her body heat.

Was he big all over?

And how could she find out?

Easy, Sofia.

As the Princess of the Bratva, she wasn’t exactly free to be with whoever she wanted. Sacha likely wouldn’t approve of this big Scottish wall.

But, damn, dreams were free.

“You all right there? You’re looking a bit stunned.” He waved his huge hand in front of her face.

She blinked and frowned at him. “I’m not stunned. Not in the slightest.”

His grin just grew. Was there no shaking this man? “No?”

“No.”

“Hmm. What were you doing racing around with your head down? You could have hurt yourself falling over like that.”

“I wouldn’t have fallen if a giant wall hadn’t placed himself in my way.”

“Ahh, I’m giant now, am I? You shouldn’t be jealous, Squirt. If you eat your veggies, you could get this big one day.”

“Will I get that hairy too?” she asked.

He threw back his head and laughed again. “I hope not.”

She grinned. “Me too. I don’t really want to start shaving a beard each morning.”

He ran a hand over his thick beard. “You don’t like beards?”

Sofia swallowed heavily. Wow, he was gorgeous. All that red hair, which was a touch darker than his thick beard. Blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. There were tattoos over his hands and going up his neck.

How much of him was tattooed?

“Uh, no. I like beards,” she said in a husky voice. “I mean, on you. Not on me. I mean, on men. I like beards on men.”

Dear Lord.

Stop!

Please, someone, make me stop.

“Aww, so I’m not special? That’s not what my Ma used to say.”

Oh, he was special. But she didn’t think it was wise to tell him. His ego already seemed big enough.

He glanced around. “What are you doing back here, lass?”

“I forgot my handbag.” She held it up.

“You work here?”

“Actually, I own the place.”

His eyes widened and she could feel him pulling back.

Great.

Someone else who was either intimidated by Sacha or disliked him. Although, why was he here?

“And you?” she challenged since she actually had a reason to be back here.

“You’re Sofia Anisimov?” he asked, looking her up and down.

“Yes. I am. And you?”

“Colm Finlayson,” he said as the door behind him opened. The man who stepped out wasn’t one she knew well, but she knew who he was.

Rogan MacGuire.

Head of the Cavan Gang. Irish Mafia. A dangerous, handsome man.

Sofia knew that her cousin often met with other dangerous men in the back room of the restaurant. Criminals. But he tried to keep her out of the family business and away from them.

“Sofia,” Rogan said in a soft voice. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I’m just leaving. Arseni is waiting for me. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Finlayson.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Darn it. Why were the gorgeous ones always weirdos or criminals?

Not that she could start anything with a member of the Irish Mafia.

Sacha would never allow it.

Six months later . . .

He was sitting at a table in the back of Solynshko.

Alone.

Sofia loved it when Colm came in on his own. It meant that she could speak more freely to him than when his boss or her cousin were around.

A rush of giddiness went through her, making her feel a bit lightheaded.

Sheesh. Anyone would think she was a lovesick teenager.

Get it together, Sofia.

She headed his way before she could stop herself.

It was like he was a magnet pulling her closer and closer, yet she was unable to resist him. She wasn’t the only one. She’d seen the way her staff stared at him.

Both male and female.

Colm was strong and confident in a way that wasn’t at all asshole-ish. It was a hard mix to pull off, but he did it.

“Good evening. You came back for the pelmeni, huh?” she asked, referencing the dumplings he was currently eating.

He grinned up at her. “I’m addicted, and I haven’t been able to get my fix for a while.”

“You’ve been busy?”

She was trying to act casual but wasn’t sure she successfully pulled it off. The fact was that she’d absolutely noticed that he hadn’t been around much lately. If he had been, it was after the restaurant closed and she’d gone home.

And she’d missed him.

It wasn’t healthy. She really needed to push him out of her mind, but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about him.

“Yeah,” he said tiredly. “What about you, lass? You’ve been busy?”

“A lot has happened,” she replied.

Colm leaned back in his chair and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Jeez, that really shouldn’t be sexy.

But it was.

What was wrong with her?

“Sofia, I was wondering if you’d like to?—”

“Ahh, there you are, Kulkolka ,” the voice said from behind her.

Shit. Fuck.

Why did he have to turn up now? What had Colm been about to say?

Had he been going to ask her out?

That would be just her rotten luck to get the one thing she’d wanted since she’d met him.

“ Kulkolka ?” Colm repeated as Oleg’s wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her into him.

Sofia had to fight hard to keep the revulsion and fear off her face. Oleg smelled like garlic and onions, and while she liked both of those things, his scent was fast turning her stomach.

God, she hated him.

“It mean, little doll ,” Oleg said gleefully in his broken English. “Isn’t she beautiful? Just like doll.”

She hated that nickname and Oleg knew that. Sofia knew she had to be careful to hide her true thoughts and feelings around Oleg, though.

“Don’t think we met,” Oleg said in that slimy voice that had vomit rising into her throat. “I am Oleg, Sofia’s boyfriend.”

God.

It was horrifying hearing him call himself that. Her stomach rolled and she had to swallow hastily, worried she would actually vomit.

You have to do better than this, Sofia.

“Boyfriend?” A look of shock filled Colm’s face before it disappeared just as quickly, and he appeared only mildly interested.

Oleg squeezed her side when she didn’t say anything.

Play your part, Sofia.

“Sorry. Yes, this is Oleg. My boyfriend. He moved here from Russia a few months ago. It’s . . . new, but we’re very happy.”

“You look it.”

She couldn’t tell if Colm was being sarcastic or not. She certainly didn’t feel the slightest bit happy.

“Well, we better get back to work,” Oleg said. “Come on, Kulkolka .”

“It was good to see you again, Colm,” she said.

“You too, Sofia.”

Sofia? Not lass?

Ouch. That hurt, but she got it.

She understood it all too well.