9. Leo
LEO
Patience had never been my problem.
Viktor second-guessed every variable before committing a move. Misha had patience, but his hunt drive and hair-trigger twitched at the first sign of resistance.
It was this complex interlocking of abilities that made us unique.
Most would have fallen apart by now, one man attempting to lay claim to the entire empire. We remained happy to share, to lean into our strengths and let the others cover our weaknesses. It was why I managed to sit quietly while Misha paced as we waited in our penthouse.
I had always been able to hold still, to read a room and wait for the exact right moment to make a move. Useful in board rooms and dangerous everywhere else.
Peyton stripped that from me, leaving me tattered but unwilling to bend and relinquish my hold.
I stood and made my way to the floor-to-ceiling window that ran the length of the penthouse’s main room. The city spread out below did nothing to settle the restlessness coiling at the base of my neck and tightening my pulse to a loud thrum in my ears.
The sun dropped behind the skyline, and Peyton had confirmed that she was on her way. That should have been enough.
It was not.
“She’s seven minutes late.” Misha paced in my peripheral vision, hands loose at his sides. The veins stood out, which meant he’d been flexing, trying to relax.
I focused on the building across from us, counting windows and examining their interiors.
Those people should invest in privacy windows.
Just because we were this high up did not mean they should leave their windows unprotected.
Take the window on the twelfth floor, third from the east corner.
A painting hung on the wall directly in front of the window.
A very valuable painting that the rising sun would destroy in a matter of months.
Lazy. They did not deserve such an artifact if they did not care to preserve it. “She will be here.”
Misha growled low in his throat. “What does ‘where things go from here’ even mean?”
Footsteps sounded from behind the bar. Viktor moved into place, and the clink of ice, followed by the splash of liquid and the scent of whiskey, told me he’d poured Misha a drink.
Viktor’s tells were invisible to most people, but I’d spent fifteen years learning them. The quiet pour of a second glass, the slow clink of three ice cubes in his own glass, told of his uncertainty.
I understood the feeling. None of us had any business being uncertain. We did not, as a general rule, invite uncertainty into any situation. We planned. We neutralized. We did not doubt.
And yet, I could not stop myself from scanning the street in search of Peyton’s car. We were Bratva, three of the most powerful men in the world. And we stood in my family’s penthouse acting like the arrival of one woman might break us.
That was what worried me.
Peyton had power over us. Power I had never given anyone. And we’d only slept with her once.
“What if she ends it?” Viktor didn’t do anxious, but he drank the whiskey and poured a second.
“Then she ends it.” I shrugged, giving them my own strength though my heart pounded at the thought of losing Peyton. Over my dead body. “We handle it like adults.”
Misha blew out an exhale mingled with enough expletives to cause Viktor to chuckle.
“She is the best assistant we’ve ever had.” I turned away from the window. “If she does not wish to continue, we do not argue. We do not give her any reason to quit. Understood?”
Viktor lifted his glass.
Misha stared at the ceiling, his jaw working.
The intercom chimed. I checked the screen and buzzed Peyton up.
Seconds later, the elevator doors opened. Peyton stepped out and stopped.
She did that sometimes, stopped like she needed a minute to recalibrate before moving on.
I’d seen her do it outside Viktor’s office when she thought no one was looking.
It charmed me. Now, watching her move around the room, I understood she did it because the world kept presenting her with things she hadn’t expected.
The penthouse had that effect on people.
Three thousand square feet, with those floor-to-ceiling windows and the bones my grandfather refused to update beyond what was structurally necessary.
Fifty years of accumulated pieces brought from places most people only saw in photos.
It was not a humble or subtle space, and Peyton stood in the middle of the room with her jaw slightly unhinged.
Awe, and mild alarm shone in her green eyes.
“Hello, Peyton.” I took a step, drawing her attention over to me.
Misha had stopped pacing and stood in front of the bar, his drink firm in his grasp.
“Hi.” A shy note lowered her voice. “Sorry I’m late. I misjudged how long it would take to get from the parking garage to here.”
“We have our own garage. You should have parked here.” Misha shifted, his bulk lifting to his full height. “Did we not include that in the address?”
Her cheeks colored. “I thought it might be best to find a place on my own to park.”
Viktor started to say something but snapped his mouth shut.
“Your home is incredible. Do all three of you live here?” The wide-eyed look continued.
I guided her through the archway, working our way deeper into our home and toward the dining room where Viktor had prepared dinner.
My hand settled on the small of her back. “Yes. It made sense for us.” That was the simplified version. The full truth involved a level of trust few people survived long enough to earn. “Are you hungry?”
We’d set the table, spreading out the food much like in the club where we’d first tasted her, only with more elegance.
I pulled out a chair for her, indicating that she should sit.
“I didn’t expect dinner.” She perched on the edge of the chair, startling when I scooted it forward and poured her a glass of wine.
“This is a meeting, yes?” I winked as I finished the pour and started on my own. We’d planned a lavish meal to wine and dine Peyton in the hopes of creating the atmosphere for another incredible night. But if she turned us away, at least we’d fed her well.
She nodded, caught herself, and toyed with the stem of her glass. “It’s a bit intimidating up here. You have so many beautiful pieces of art. I can see why so many of your clients are always praising your tastes and looking to acquire.”
Misha darted a look at Viktor, who gave a barely there shake of his head. Peyton was only spewing the codewords she’d heard during her time with us. She would have no idea what they meant, and I intended to keep it that way.
I sat beside her and motioned at the food. “Viktor did his best to make some of your favorites. Please enjoy.” I added a few bites to my plate and kept a close eye on Peyton to see what choices she made.
People always told you their intentions, if you knew how to look.
She fiddled with the serving spoon on the bowl of green beans, but her eyes lingered on the baked sweet potatoes. Seconds passed, and she let out a tiny sigh that dropped her shoulders as she spooned the green beans onto her plate and fisted her napkin in her lap.
The conversation circled around work for a few moments. Peyton picked at her food, her gaze roaming the room and us for several minutes before she sat back, dropping her fork. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Excuse me?” Misha spoke before I could warn him.
Peyton’s cheeks flushed. “I mean… I…” She groaned and ran a hand through her hair.
“I can’t keep sitting here and not say what I came here to say.
” An exhale dropped her shoulders. “You gave me the most incredible night of my life. I can’t stop thinking about it, which is inconvenient because you’re my bosses and I have to sit twelve feet from your offices and pretend I don’t know…
” The color spread down her neck and across her chest beneath the white lace blouse I’d been tempted to rip from her body.
“I don’t want to lose my job. And I refuse to be someone you call up at midnight just because you feel like it. ”
Speech complete, she breathed in and held it, then let it out in a rush.
“Peyton, look at me.” I managed to lower my fork to my plate without a sound.
Peyton shifted her body toward me, her chin lifting until she stared into my eyes.
“We are not going to fire you. Not over this. Not over any version of this. Whatever happens has no bearing on your job. It never did.”
Some of the stiffness left her shoulders, but not all of it.
Which meant I had to address the other thing.
“As for the rest.” I forced out a smile.
“You are not… what is it people say? A booty call?” She nodded, biting her lower lip, until I rubbed my thumb over her chin to stop her.
“You never were. If that was all we wanted, we would not have spent weeks learning your coffee order or your deepest fantasies. We are interested in you, not a version of you that rushes to fulfil our desires at midnight.”
Her gaze roamed my face, then Misha’s and finally, Viktor’s.
Viktor gave her a slow nod.
I slid my hand across her shoulder. “We understand if you wish to end things because of the power imbalance.”
Misha snorted. “Leo speaks for himself on that. I am not willing to walk away from this because of who ranks higher on the payroll. And if anyone in the office decides to make your life difficult over what we are to each other, I will gut them.”
Peyton blanched. “Are you threatening your own employees?”
“I’m making a promise.”
I glared at Misha. “He’s joking.” The look conveyed that he needed to keep his mouth shut and follow the plan.
Misha returned my glare with one of his own, and I made a mental note to revisit that once Peyton was not around.
“Viktor, help me out.” Misha waved toward Viktor.
No doubt he’d already weighed up both sides of the argument. He twirled his glass around before setting it on the table. “Tell us what you want, Peyton. Forget what you’re afraid of. What do you want?”
It was the right question, the one we should have asked from the beginning.
She glanced around again, her eyes going to the bedroom door we’d left open.
She gestured toward it, which made Misha’s mouth twitch.
“I want to know you, and I want you to know me. But I’ve worked too hard to get where I am.
So, thank you, Misha, for the offer, but I’d rather not have any of this spill over into work. ”
“Then it won’t.” I made the promise for all of us, which brought Peyton’s head around. She’d been watching Viktor, under the impression that he had the final say. I was happy to prove I owned that spot of power. “Professional at work.”
The tension around her eyes eased. “You’d do that?”
“You said it is what you want.” I tipped my head to the side. “If it is what you need, it is what we will do.”
She looked between all of us. “All of you?”
“We keep things that matter close.” Viktor held a hand over his heart. “This is not a complicated request.”
Misha wore a tight-lipped face that told us to stop speaking for him. His possessiveness might make it difficult for him, but he would fall in line. He always did.
I couldn’t help pushing. “Though I would argue that there is a thrill in the tension of it all.” I gave her the smile she’d described in one of our messages as dangerous.
“The secret of it. Knowing what’s between us while keeping the secret.
” Her pupils dilated, and I pushed a little further.
“But we’ll keep our hands to ourselves if that is your preference. ”
“It is.”
“Then it is.” I shrugged. “Unless you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
“We’ll see.” Misha muttered it under his breath, but we all heard the promise.
She laughed. The sound caught her off guard, and she covered her mouth with one hand. “Then I guess we’re doing this.”
“You are willing tonight?” Misha pushed to his feet, his body leaning toward her. “Or would you like to go home?”
Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. “I’d like to stay.”
I’d seen Misha move faster than a striking snake, but that had nothing on how quickly he pounced on Peyton and pulled her into his arms, kissing her with enough passion to set the carpet in every room of our penthouse on fire.