Kostya: A Dark Mafia Romance (Zinon Bratva) by Nicole Fox (my reading book .TXT) 📕

Shit. And now I have to face my mother, a woman not known for her discretion or her ability to hide her feelings.

I walk down the stairs and hear her seconds before I see her. She’s rambling at someone. “What would make someone shoot at your boss? Is he into something illegal? Something that could end up hurting my daughter?”

Her concern would be a comfort if it was actually concern. But it isn’t. There’s too much of an edge to her tone. She’s digging. Hoping to extract information from someone other than me.

I peek around the corner of the room. Mom has her arms crossed as she stares up—way up—at the man in front of her. I can’t see a weapon, but he doesn’t look like he needs one. He’s big, with dark hair and narrow eyes. But if my mother is annoying him, his face betrays nothing. Instead of glaring at her, he stares back, unspeaking.

“Mom,” I interrupt. I smile because I don’t want her to know I’m onto her, but I’ve known her my entire life and I can tell when she’s up to something. I also know it’s smarter to figure out what she’s up to before I call her on it. And that requires reconnaissance. “How about a cup of coffee before you go home?”

Her eyes narrow and her lips purse. “No. I should get back to the apartment.” She looks me up and down. “Why don’t you come with me? We haven’t spent any time together in days.” Her voice softens. “I miss you, Char.”

Oh shit. She’s thrown down the guilt gauntlet and I’m powerless to resist. “Okay.” It’ll be nice—okay, informational, at least—to spend a few hours with her. “I just need to check with Kostya.” Her eyes are no more than little slits now and I know why. “Because of Tiana.”

The soldier stands straighter, more rigid, and I turn to find Kostya in the doorway as if I’ve developed the power to summon him by thought alone. If only.

I don’t want to be one of those giddy girls who can’t control her giggles. But I giggle at the thought of rubbing a lamp and having Kostya pop out—shirtless, in this particular fantasy—and Mom cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Mrs. Lowe—” His voice is low as he walks in with his hand extended.

“Ms. It’s Ms. Lowe.” There’s a bite now in her tone as if he’s crossed a line by addressing her with the wrong title. This is the man who pays my salary, which in turn lets me pay her bills. Her obvious animosity is over-the-top ridiculous.

“Ms. Lowe.” He nods apologetically but his tone says he can hold his own. “I want to thank you for staying with Tiana last night.”

Mom’s slight nod is her only acknowledgment that she’s heard him. She turns back to me. “I’m ready to go now. We can take your car.”

Kostya glances at me. “Charlotte, I need to speak with you.”

I glance from him to my mother. Her look says going into the hallway is the wrong decision, but I have no choice. He lifts an eyebrow and waits.

My stomach is in a hundred and ten knots because I haven’t the foggiest clue what’s wrong with my mother, nor can I imagine why Kostya has picked this minute to decide we need a chat.

I nod and turn back to Mom. “I’ll be right back.”

“Then I want you to take me home.” It’s a demand laced with vinegar, and I don’t think I even want to know why.

I follow Kostya to the hall. As soon as we’ve cleared the doorway, he turns to look at me. “You can’t leave. One of my men will take your mother home. The Whelans are still out there.” He cocks an eyebrow as if I should immediately understand. I do, but there’s no way my mom is going to let me out of this.

“It’ll be a quick trip and if you want your driver to take us, that’s fine. But I have to go. There’s no way …” And my words die because I’m arguing with a man who has admitted he’s a criminal, a man who could end my life with a nod of his head. “It will be better if I go along with her.”

Even angry, with a deep frown turning his lips down, he’s beautiful. “Charlotte …” He tilts his head in that way he does that stirs my heart every time. “Only if Dmitri waits for you and brings you back when you’re done.” He leans in to kiss my cheek and the touch is as potent in its own way as every other I’ve experienced. This man has an arsenal of sexual weapons at his disposal, every bit as dangerous as the guns he wields. He lingers a second longer as my mother clears her throat from the doorway.

“Charlotte? Are you ready? I have things to get done today and I’m already behind schedule.”

Things to do? I think she means talk shows to watch, Facebook posts to type. But I turn to her and smile. “I’m ready when you are.”

Kostya nods to the man my mother was questioning. He speaks in Russian and the man nods. “Da.”

If Kostya notices Mom’s scowl, he doesn’t mention it or even react. I hurry her out before she gives voice to the disapproval in her eyes.

It isn’t until we’re in the car that I relax enough to let out a normal breath. Because I don’t want to argue with her, I paste a goofy smile on my face. I don’t want to talk about Kostya or my job because I don’t want to hear her opinion. I can already see she isn’t exactly over the moon about it. And there’s only one thing I can think of that might sway her toward him.

“Kostya’s making really good progress with Lila.”

Mom shifts her body to face me as Dmitri drives. He ignores us, but I’m certain he’s taking down every word