Chapter 27
Lev
Baron doesn’t move. He just stares at her with those cold eyes.
He’s looking for a reason to tell me I’m thinking with my cock instead of my head.
I pull Varvara closer, my fingers digging into her side.
She’s stiff, but she doesn’t crumble. If she’s going to be mine, she needs to stand her ground against the man who runs our world.
“You found something on Mercer,” Baron says. It’s not a question. “The too-clean DI is not so clean?”
I guide Varvara to a chair and stand behind her. I want him to see she has my protection. “He’s a fucking liability.”
Varvara looks at the books, the desk, anywhere but at my uncle. I can see the pulse in her neck. I want to reach out and feel the rhythm of her fear, but I keep my hands to myself.
“Tell him what you know, moya sladkaya,” I say. The endearment is purposeful. It lets Baron know who he is dealing with.
I see the slight raise of his eyebrow, but otherwise, he gives no reaction.
She clears her throat. Her voice is small but steady. “He attacked me two years ago in an alley on my way home from work. He mugged me and ripped my clothes. He… groped me.”
Baron’s eyebrows go all the way up now. It’s the only sign of surprise he ever gives. He sits back in his seat. “A too-clean detective who moonlights as a thug. Interesting.”
I want Mercer’s head, but I need the Pakhan to see the profit. If I go rogue, I risk my position. But for her, I’ll burn this fucking city. “Not just a thug. This isn’t a one-off. From what Varvara has told me, I get the impression he was… interrupted.”
Baron reads between the lines, and his face goes harder. “You think he makes a habit out of this?”
“Yes.”
“When I reported it,” Varvara blurts out.
“He was the officer I spoke to. He dismissed it as an impossible case to pursue. I didn’t know it was him.
He wore a mask and gloves when he attacked me.
But I remembered something when he paid a visit to Lev’s house earlier.
A swallow tattoo on his hand. I remembered seeing it in the alley.
I clawed his hand and tugged the glove low enough to see it. I didn’t remember until earlier.”
Baron remains silent. He taps a gold pen against the mahogany desk, a rhythmic click that grates on my nerves. I want to reach for my blade and hunt Mercer down before he makes it to his next shift. My hand rests on the back of Varvara’s chair, the wood solid under my palm.
“A swallow,” Baron says. “The mark of a man who thinks he can fly above the law he serves.”
“He’s a predator,” I state. I don’t look at Varvara, but I feel her tension. “He uses his badge to clean up. He’s the reason she’s lived in fear.”
“He polices himself,” Baron says. “He creates the crime and then buries the evidence. It is a perfect system.” He stops tapping the pen and fixes his gaze on me. “You want to break it.”
“I want to erase him,” I growl.
Baron looks back at Varvara. She meets his eyes this time, and I feel a surge of pride so sharp it nearly chokes me. She isn’t just a victim anymore. She is the witness to the fall of a man who thought he was untouchable.
“He’s being blackmailed,” I add, drawing his attention away from her and back to me. “I suspect whoever holds his leash is using his ‘extracurriculars’ to force his hand against us.”
Baron nods slowly. “Any lead on that?”
“Voran is digging as only Voran can. Apparently, the Baranovs bumped up against him last year. He shelved the investigation.”
“And now he is our problem.”
“In more ways than one.”
Baron searches my eyes. “This woman you brought into my home, she means something more than obligation?”
Varvara stifles her sniff of indignation but knows better than to call Baron on talking about her like she isn’t in the room.
“She’s mine,” I say, and I don’t give a fuck if he hears the obsession in my voice.
It’s a declaration of war. I reach down and rest my hand on the back of her neck, my thumb stroking the skin just below her ear.
Baron watches the movement with a calculation that makes my blood run hot.
He knows me. He sees the way I refuse to let her move an inch away from me.
“She is mine,” I say again. “Her history is now my history. Her enemies are now my enemies.”
He knows I wouldn’t bring a woman here unless I’d already marked her. The silence in the room stretches, thick and suffocating, until he finally gives a single, sharp nod.
“Then the DI is a dead man. But if he is being squeezed to target the Voronovs, I want to know the hand on the throat before you cut the head off.” Baron leans forward. “Go to the club tonight as planned. Take Popov out. He is the priority tonight.”
“I want Mercer, Pakhan.”
“You will get him. But you will do it when the timing serves the family, not just your temper.”
I tighten my grip. My blood is a dark, rushing river. I want to tell him that Mercer’s life ended the second Varvara remembered that tattoo, but I am a Voronov first. “Understood.”
“Good. Now take her away. She is a distraction I don’t need in my study.”
I don’t wait for a second invitation. I reach down, grab Varvara’s hand, and pull her to her feet.
We leave the room without another word. The door clicks shut, and I march her toward the exit, my blood roaring with a violent, possessive need to get her back into my car and away from the cold eyes of my uncle.
We reach the Ferrari, and I shove her inside before closing the door. I get in behind the wheel.
“Take her away?” she splutters, her cheeks red with annoyance. “He is a real dick.”
“He is a real Bratva pakhan,” I correct her. “Don’t expect tea and flowers.”
“Right,” she grits out. “Forgot I was dealing with a bunch of high-end criminals.”
I rip the Ferrari out of the driveway, the tyres gripping the red brick as I hit the street. Baron is right about one thing—she is a distraction. She is the only thing that matters in this wasteland of a city. I reach over and catch her hand, threading my fingers through hers.
“You did well,” I mutter.
She snorts, staring out the window at the blurred lights of London. “I felt like a bug under a microscope.”
“You’re not a bug. You’re the queen of this board.” I shift gears, the engine’s roar filling the cabin. “Tonight, we finish Popov. Mercer comes next. I promise you, Varvara, he will regret his actions.”
She gives me a nod. “I believe you. But what about tonight? What if Popov has more men than you expect?”
“Then I’ll need more bullets.” I don’t give a fuck about the odds. I have her in my car and my name on her skin. I feel invincible. I am invincible with her next to me.
We pull up outside the club too early. It doesn’t matter. It’s better this way. I’d rather be inside when whatever Baron has plotted goes down. I turn to Varvara and unbutton her shirt. She swallows and looks down.
“Ready?”
“No.”
“Try again.”
“Yes,” she croaks.
She doesn’t move as I climb out and walk around to her side. The street is loud, the club pulsing with a bass that vibrates through the pavement. I open her door and guide her out.
“Stay on my left,” I say.
I lead her toward the entrance. The bouncers step back immediately, clearing a path.
They don’t look at her. They know the rules of this house.
We step into the dark. The neon flickers over the crowd.
I feel her fingers thread through mine, her grip tight.
The bass thumps against my ribs. It provides a heartbeat for the violence I’m about to unleash.
I lead Varvara toward the VIP section, my hand firmly on the small of her back.
The crowd parts. Men turn to look. Their eyes drop when I growl.
They know she’s off-limits, and anyone who breathes too close to her is a corpse.
I stop at the edge of the velvet rope, my gaze scanning the crowd. The club is a sea of faces I recognise, some I don’t, all swanning around drinking, laughing and making deals. I pinpoint each hostess, each manager, bartender, and cleaner. None of them looks shifty or undercover.
“Do you see him?” Varvara asks.
“No, he isn’t here yet. It’s still early.”
“What exactly are we waiting for?”
“Anything. So be ready.”
“That isn’t helpful,” she says, her gaze catching on a woman and following her path through the crowd.
“What is it?” I ask immediately.
“Nothing. She was looking at you.”
I snort. “Didn’t notice.”
“Well, I did,” she huffs. “Bitch.”
I cup the back of her neck and draw her closer, brushing my lips over hers. “I like you jealous.”
“Not jealous. Possessive. You are my monster, my protector. Not hers.” Her eyes are filled with a darkness that makes my cock rock hard.
I press it against her. “Fuck, I want you right now.”
“Right here?” she murmurs.
“Up there,” I take her hand and lead her to the stairs, where there is a mezzanine level that looks out over the bar.
“Lev,” she rasps when I push her up against the railings, covering her body with mine.
I flick her jeans undone and slide my hand in, cupping her pussy. She is soaking wet.
“There are people up here,” she moans as I slide my fingers over her clit.
“And?”
“They’ll see us.”
“That’s part of the excitement, moya sladkaya.
” I push her jeans over her hips and arse, exposing her to anyone who looks up.
There are probably a dozen or more looking.
I don’t give a fuck. They will see her impaled on my cock.
I undo my pants, shielding her body from behind, and wedge my cock between her tightly bound legs.
“Fuck,” she rasps as I work my way inside her.
“So tight,” I murmur in her ear, shoving forward with my hips to bury myself as far as I’ll go. “Can you see anyone watching?”
She clutches the railing with both hands to keep herself steady. I drive deeper and feel her whole body tense around me.
“Yes,” she whispers, breathless. “A man by the stairs. Two at the bar are looking up. They’re pretending not to.”
I close one hand over her throat, not squeezing, just holding her there while I fuck into her in slow, hard strokes. Her arse presses back against my hips, spreading her thighs as wide as the tight denim will allow. Every thrust makes her shake.
“They need to see. Need to understand that you are mine to fuck wherever I want.”
Her cunt clenches hard.
I slide my hand down between her thighs and find her clit. She jolts, biting back a cry. Below us, the club carries on. Lights flash across the lower floor. Men keep glancing up and then away, too late, because I’ve already seen them.
“Come for me,” I say. “Let them see you break.”
Her head drops back against my shoulder. “Lev.”
“Do it.”
I rub her clit harder. My cock drives into her with a brutal rhythm. She comes with a broken gasp, pussy locking around me so tightly I nearly lose control there and then. I keep fucking her through it, forcing her to take every filthy second while I watch the room below.
“There you are,” I murmur as Nikolai Popov moves into the club, surrounded by four men.
I breathe in deeply and pump once, twice, and then I let out a soft groan as I come inside my woman. She is panting raggedly as I withdraw, and she is quick to pull her jeans up and get herself covered up.
“He’s here?” she asks.
“With the handler.” I focus on the woman who has joined them.
“Where?” Varvara asks, her gaze following mine. “Oh, fuck no,” she groans a moment later, causing my head to snap to the side. “Are you fucking kidding me?”