The Code To A Don's Heart

t w e n t y

V I K T O R     M A K A R O V I C H — T H E     B U T C H E R

"Curse this damn weather," Peach grumbled from beside me, wrapping herself tighter into the long warm faux fur coat I'd given her. She was practically hidden in the brown bear skin. "Why did I wear this damn dress?"

I turned my gaze away from her and back to the road, trying hard not to think about what lay beneath the coat. Thick wide hips, a small waist and an ample chest. I knew Peach looked good but I hadn't thought she'd be so tempting. My mind run with sinful thoughts about what I could get her to do for me to truly be my entertainment for the night.

Our little banter after I'd tried to lay down had caused tension to fall between us until we'd gone out of the room and Peach had grumbled about the weather even with her warm coat. I wore the one she had before, a slight feminine scent on it. It wasn't strong but it was different and it affected me.

I liked her wearing my clothes.

"Is the AC on?" Peach asked looking at the dashboard of the car I'd had brought for us to go to the hotel in style and avoid suspicion.

My black Bugatti Chiron would do. I wasn't a fan of the smaller car but Peach had gushed about when she set her sights on the machine and it caused pride to rise in my chest, lifting my mood and my ego.

"Yes, it is," I assured her. "It's not that cold in the car."

"I'm warming up for when I have to get out," she explained and extended her leg, flashing her silver stappy heels. I wondered what they would look like over my lap but I turned my gaze back to the road. I needed to focus.

"Why hasn't it stopped snowing?" she asked angrily. "Don't the skies ever get tired?"

I shook my head, increasing the speed of the vehicle as we closed in on the restaurant. The hum of the vehicle was soft and slightly soothing for my nerves. I really wanted a smoke. It had been too long. The remaining journey was comfortingly silent as Peach stared out the window. I kept glancing at her, my eyes running over her hair and her make-up. She was quite pretty without it but she looked sexier with it on. I'd never realised how long her lashes were and how hooded her gaze could be when she talked to me.

My brain somehow short circuited when I thought of Peach and her well being. I still couldn't believe I'd asked her to be my consigliere but it was a decision I would never regret or take back. I had been deathly serious when I asked her and I'd be honoured to work with her on Bratva affairs. I needed all the help I could get. I didn't even want to think about the fact that I'd let the knowledge that I might not want to be a Don slip.

Peach did that to me. She made me want to open up about all the things I thought and planned. She was the kind of person I'd tell good or bad new to first, just to know what she thought. I glanced at her again and wondered how her opinion had become so important to me. That's why I felt uneasy with bringing her into the Bratva. She'd know the part of me I was trying to keep hidden. The Butcher wasn't a title I was proud of.

When we reached the hotel, I parked and unbuckled my seatbelt easily. Peach didn't have much luck. I got out of the car, shutting the door softly before rounding to Peach's side and opening it up.

"The damn belt is stuck in the coat or something," she reported to me, looking up with her brown eyes soft and angelic. I resisted the urge to rub my hand on her cheek and bent, reaching over her in the seat to help her out.