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a big, deliberate step.

I blasted across town and pulled up outside Fenbrook

Academy in plenty of time. I sat there outside the red-

brick building, watching the students milling around on

the steps: musicians with instrument cases on their

backs, dancers with their hair up in buns and a few

cocky guys I guessed were actors, hitting on all the

girls. All of them just sitting there, happily chattering

away in their nice, safe world where crime was

something you heard about on the news.

I frowned. I’d almost forgotten that world existed.

Then Irina hurried down the steps wrapped up in a long

black overcoat, so beautiful it made my chest hurt. Her

hair was still up in a dancer’s bun from class. I pushed

open the car door so she could get in, but she shook

her head.

“I need to keep moving,” she told me. “I have another

class in ten minutes and if I sit still, my legs will stiffen

up.”

The air coming in through the open car door was so

cold it took my breath away. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “Walk, or don’t talk.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. I grabbed my coat

and jumped out. She’d already taken a few paces along

the street by the time I caught her, her long legs eating

up the distance. She hadn’t been kidding about keeping

moving.

Or…. I glanced over my shoulder at the students on the

steps. Or she didn’t want to have this conversation in

my car, right in front of them.

She was afraid I was going to end this and reduce her

to tears in front of her friends. Jesus. Just the idea of it

made me feel ill. Even though ending it was the only

smart thing to do.

I grabbed her hand, but she didn’t stop walking.

Wouldn’t even look at me. “Irina,” I said, “I’m sorry. I’m

sorry I ran out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She kept walking but she slowed just a little. Maybe

something in my voice told her I meant it.

“It’s...understandable,” she said at last. “Everyone’s

scared of Vasiliy.”

I stared at her in horror. She thought I was scared of

him? I’m not scared of anyone. But what explanation

could I give her?

The truth, a little voice inside me urged. Tell her the

truth. Tell her that you’re her uncle’s number one

rival...and then watch her walk off into the sunset.

Maybe it won’t be like that. Maybe she isn’t loyal to him.

But I couldn’t risk that. This was about more than just

wanting to fuck her, now. I couldn’t get her out of my

head and I wasn’t about to give her up, not even if it

meant lying.

I drew in a deep breath. “I just...I know what your

uncle’s like,” I said slowly. “And I couldn’t believe that

someone as amazing as you was connected with

someone like that.”

I waited to see how she took it. I hoped it rang true

because it was the truth.

She slowed a little more. And then, for the first time,

she turned and looked at me. God, even now, even

when we were in the middle of all this, she was

heartbreakingly beautiful. Those blue eyes burned with

so much emotion, so much pain. It took everything I

had to stop myself just grabbing her and pulling her into

my arms.

“Vasiliy has done very bad things,” she said slowly.

Down in the depths of my soul, the hot black anger

uncoiled and stirred. I knew exactly what bad things

Russians were capable of. I’d had personal fucking

experience. And Vasiliy was no different to the bastard

who’d—

Irina’s gorgeous voice cut me free from the memory

that had threatened to drag me down into rage.

“Sometimes because he had to,” she said. “But

sometimes—especially in the last few years—just to

grow his empire. He didn’t used to be this ruthless.”

I forced the memories back down inside me before they

could take over, but the bitterness remained. Just to

grow his empire. Just another power-crazed Russian,

trying to take what wasn’t his. At the same time,

though, I felt a tiny shred of hope. She sounded bitter,

too: maybe they weren’t close. Maybe she’d cut ties

long ago. “Are you close?”

She nodded. “After my parents died, he practically

raised me.”

Shit. My disappointment must have shown on my face

because she shook her head. “But I turned my back on

that,” she said with pride. “I don’t take his money. I

hate everything about his business. Vasiliy wants me to

marry someone like him, a gangster. I never will.”

Oh Jesus...it got worse and worse. She hated gangsters.

When she found out I was Cosa Nostra she’d never

want to see me again. I have to end this now, before

she finds out.

I opened my mouth to say it.

But nothing would come out.

I stared at her, completely fucking helpless. Just do it! A

moment’s pain. She’d cry. Then it would be over. I had

to be honest with her. I’m a vicious son of a bitch, but

I’m not a complete asshole.

But I just...couldn’t. Whenever I went to speak, the

thought of losing her felt like someone crushing my

fucking chest.

“What?” she asked. She finally stopped walking and

turned to me. I could hear the fear in her voice—she

could tell something was wrong. “What are you trying to

say?” There’ll never be a better time. Do it! Tell her!

I stared into those cornflower-blue eyes and thought of

never seeing her again.

“I need you.” It was out before I even knew I was

going to say it. “I need to keep seeing you.”

She blinked...and then a smile spread across her face.

Immediately, I got a stab of something I hadn’t felt in

years: guilt. What the fuck are you doing, Angelo? What

happens when she finds out?

I knew it was wrong. But every second in her presence,

watching her look up at me with that little smile tugging

at her lips, felt so valuable that I would have done

anything just to buy a few more of them.

Something inside me snapped: I had to have those lips,

had to have them now. I grabbed her waist and pushed

her back, almost lifting her clear of the sidewalk as I

slammed her up against the trunk of a tree. She yelped

in surprise and then, for the first time, I heard her

giggle. The sound rippled through me like champagne

bubbles, light and intoxicating, fucking glorious. I hadn’t

been able to imagine her laugh: she was always so

serious. Now I wanted to hear it again and again.

But I wanted something else more. I moved in close

and put one hand on her cheek, heard her breathing

hitch as she realized what I was about to do.

Then my lips came down on hers.

11

Irina

As soon as his lips touched mine, I could feel the animal

hunger in him. Ferocious, savage: he didn’t just want

me, he needed me. It made me go weak inside and the

feeling was as unfamiliar as it was fantastic. I’d had so

many years of being hard, of never showing weakness

for a second, that being just...overcome was incredible.

This is what it’s meant to be like. This is what I’d been

missing from all the Russian men Vasiliy had tried to set

me up with.

His kisses were soft and brutal, tasting me and directing

me, pushing me one way then the other so that he

could sample every inch of my lips. The kisses got faster

and I felt his hands tighten on my waist, his lips working

down across my cheek and then along my jaw, tilting

my head up and back. Each kiss was a little explosion of