King's Ransom (Ruthless Doms 3)

“I saw something I shouldn’t have,” she says, her cheeks flushing faint pink. “And I…”

“She came as my prisoner,” I supply. “Taara witnessed an execution.”

“Oh,” Larissa says, her eyes wide. But a second later, her voice hardens. “And the brotherhood thought it best to get rid of her, I’m presuming? Though she’s served you for…”

“Decades,” I tell her, my own voice tight. I understand why she’s upset, but she doesn’t walk in my shoes. “And that’s why she’s with me.”

Larissa holds my gaze for a moment before finally nodding, accepting this. She sighs and looks to Taara. “I fear for you, but you’re not ignorant of the workings of Bratva life, are you?”

Taara nods and reaches under the table for my hand.

“And she’s no longer my prisoner,” I explain. When did she stop being captive to me? When did she become so much more?

“Brother, how do you propose ending the slave trade, when the Thieves have such a stronghold in America?” Demyan asks. He sips coffee from a teacup.

“That’s why I’m here. I need to find who commands this and end any insidious plans from the top down.”

Demyan nods. “But someone ordered you dead, so they already presume you know too much.”

“Correct.”

He strokes his chin and looks over my shoulder. Contemplating.

“Then tonight, we will form a plan. We have confidantes and spies we can utilize that work with the Thieves.”

I exhale in relief. “Thank you.”

“But it might not be as simple as you think,” Larissa says.

“I never said it was simple.”

Larissa nods. “Yes. It’s just that those that run the operation are many and varied. You’ll have to find all that want this to happen and eliminate all of them.”

Tarra squeezes my hand tighter.

“I’ll do whatever I have to,” I tell them, looking from Larissa to Demyan. “I have no choice. If I don’t, the Bratva in America is all but done.”

Demyan’s eyes cloud and his jaw firms. “We cannot have that,” he says. “Bratstvo ne padet.”

I swallow hard and repeat, “Bratstvo ne padet.”

We get up from the table, and Larissa takes us to a room.

“Leave a message for me or Demyan, and tell us what you need.”

“Thank you.”

She smiles and leaves, and we enter the room. The bed’s turned down, and the bathroom filled with toiletries. It’s nicer than a luxury suite, but I breathe easier knowing I’m once again surrounded by brothers at my back. Tonight, we rest. Tomorrow we’ll begin our next job.

But I can’t stop thinking of Taara’s mother. I take my phone and text Nicolai.

How is her mother?

But he doesn’t respond. I have to tell her. I cannot delay it much longer.

I turn to Taara, who’s looking about the luxurious room with wide eyes. She yawns widely.

“Sleep for you, little one,” I say. “Let’s get you ready.” I have a burning need to help her to bed. To tuck her beneath the sheets and see that she’s safe. Taking care of her feeds a need in me I didn’t know I had until she came along. And when she looks at me with those wide, luminous eyes and whispers, “Yes, daddy,” I know. She is a gift to me. The King’s ransom, as Larissa said. So precious. I don’t deserve this—any of this. Her trust or loyalty. Her kindness and steadfast obedience.

“I’d like to shower first, though,” she says. “After traveling and all.”

“Of course.” I take her by the hand and lead her to the bathroom.

“I can do this myself,” she says sheepishly, biting her lip, but I can tell she doesn’t want to. She gets all submissive and shy when I take care of her like this.

“Of course, you can,” I respond. “But I enjoy being the one that does. And no more protests from you.”

Her eyes grow concerned for just the briefest of moments, before she nods her head and smiles at me. “Alright, then.”

I help her out of her clothes, slipping each garment off her beautiful body and tossing them into the laundry hamper. Who knows how long we’ll be here. We might as well make the most of it.

I kiss her naked shoulder and run my hand down the length of her back to her ass. I put the shower on, placing my own hand under the steaming hot water to check the temperature.

“Are you joining me, daddy?”

Fuck, I love when she calls me that.

“Of course.” She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I quickly strip and join her, then take a washcloth and soap it up.

“Come here,” I murmur, pulling her to me. I clean her hair and lather her body, enjoying the sweet scent of honey and vanilla. And Christ, predictably I’m getting hard again. But not tonight. Not now.

“Tonight, we’re just getting clean,” I say.

“If you say so,” she says with a grin.

“I do,” I groan.

She drapes her arms over my neck and kisses me. “Okay, only more question.”