Mikhail

21

"Who's next on your list, Natalia?"

The rough pads of Mikhail's fingers danced over the dip of my lower back, hot lips brushing along my jaw pleasurably.

"I haven't decided yet."

He wouldn't need to know, because there wasn't a chance in Hell he would approve or help me. It was time for Mogilevich to die.

--

The newspaper was thrown against the mahogany table in front of me.

I peered down at it curiously, only to find the front page a tribute to the late Byrne brothers. 'Respected family-men, notable for their work in' bla-bla-bla.

I scoffed out a laugh and rested back in the leather armchair.

My father wasn't as amused, falling back down against his office chair with a leer directed at me.

"Care to explain?" his brows raised expectantly. I shrugged.

"I know you're tired of hearing this, but this time it actually wasn't me," I insisted, "I'm quite certain it was Julio."

"And how would you know that?" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he awaited the unpleasant reply.

"Before the explosion, the man with the bomb waved at us-"

"So you were there?" he snarled, glare harsh enough to silence a room full of men, "with Vinnie or that man?" His refer to Mikhail was like poison leaving his lips.

"With Mikhail, yes," I informed him without standing down, "we were across the street about to shoot the two."

"My God, Natasha..." he shook his head with deep disappointment.

I remained unfazed, trusting my instincts and knowing I was doing the right thing. Maybe not for my future position as head of our business or its power, but I was thinking further ahead, of the young children and adults kidnapped and sold so inhumanely to live unspeakably horrible lives. I considered the lives of tens of thousands far more important than mine, and wouldn't stop until these disgusting men ended the business. Either they ended six feet under or I would, and I had come to terms with that. I could only hope my mother would've been proud.

"Julio knows that I'm after his father's friends. Mogilevich doesn't," I began confidently, "their relationship seems to be unstable and untrusting."

"This... Mikhail told you all this?" The distaste in his tone was strong, but there was a hint of curiosity.

"I assume based on what he told me."

His eyes moved to the corner of the room with a deep exhale. I knew he despised actually getting close with an enemy, anyone working for Mogilevich in particular. I hated it as much as I loved it, but could manage to make it work in our advantage.

"If Mogilevich fears Julio will stab him in the back, he's more likely to ally himself with us," I continued, "as long as Julio is after me and not our family, and Mogilevich is unaware of it all, we have the upper hand."

Instead of ranting about my safety and security, I was surprised to find him actually thinking my suggestion over. A sense of pride tugged my lips up with a smile.

"Julio is crazy, but unable to attack us without Mogilevich. We take one of them out," I finished.

"Julio is crazy, especially not to have a son..." he agreed, considering the idea.

"If he were smart, he would've had a daughter," I corrected with a light grin, and my father chuckled.

"For once I fully agree with you, Natasha," he offered me a trusting smile, "we'll need to talk it over with our men, but Julio is the wisest kill."