“No. No, I won’t have this. Get out.” Ania came off the bed right in front of Mitya and shoved at his chest.
She was strong, but she didn’t so much as rock him. Mitya wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into him. She resisted, pushing against him, struggling for a moment. Mitya held her to him, refusing to allow her to escape. It took several minutes before she slumped against him and then began to weep. He wished she would just cry loudly, but she didn’t make a sound. He knew she wept because he felt the wet tears on his shirt, and from the way her body shook, but she was absolutely silent.
Mitya rubbed her back and stroked caresses down her hair. He looked at her father over Ania’s head. He nodded his answer to the man. His leopard could definitely take Antosha’s in a fight. When it came down to it, Dymka would be able to kill Antosha’s leopard as humanely as possible.
Antosha regarded the couple for a moment and then mouthed “thank you” before he closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.
“I think it is safe for his nurse to return,” Mitya said.
“Annalise was my nanny,” Ania corrected, lifting her head from his chest. “Dad’s been slowly going downhill. The doctors all said he would. We consulted with the best. It was impossible to remove the bullet without killing him, but over time, the bullet would most likely begin traveling on its own.”
“You had three years with him, Ania,” Mitya reminded her as gently as possible. “If the bullet had killed him outright, you would have been alone that entire time. How long has this been going on?” He took her arm, pushed up the sleeves and examined the long scratches.
She squirmed, trying to pull her arm away, embarrassed on her father’s behalf. “His leopard broke free a few times and I had to contend with it. Not all the way—Dad managed to fight it back—but enough that his claws raked me a few times. I’m lucky that Annalise is so loyal, but I’m afraid to leave her alone in the house with him now.”
“You’re avoiding the question, kotyonok. How long has this been going on?”
She moistened her lips, avoiding his gaze. “The last three months he’s been steadily going downhill.”
Mitya shook his head, took her hand and strode from the room. He could feel her reluctance with every step they took back to the main part of the house. He went straight through the formal dining room to avoid the kitchen and continued into the great room. He let her go when they neared the fireplace.
“Sevastyan, have Vikenti and Zinoviy pack up the dinner and remove everything from the house. If there is anything we need to know immediately, have them pass the information to you to determine whether or not I need to be interrupted.”
Sevastyan knew what he was saying. He wanted all the men to make themselves as scarce as possible while still doing their jobs. The moment they were outside, Vikenti and Zinoviy would use their leopards and the cover of darkness to find out as many things as possible about the Dover family and their estate.
Sevastyan nodded, shot one look at Ania, started to say something and then closed his mouth and moved away.
Mitya went to the bar. “Do you want a drink?”
Ania shook her head and then took a deep breath. “There’s water in the small fridge, maybe a bottle of that.”
Mitya located one and brought it to her. She sank down onto the thick rug that lay right in front of the long fireplace. The fireplace was very modern, with a long glass window and an abundance of flames leaping and flickering inside.
“I’m sorry about your father, Ania. He’s a good man, and very strong to endure the suffering he has.”
“He won’t use any painkillers because he says the leopard could defeat him.”
He kept her gaze captive in his. “Ania. Baby. You know his leopard will eventually defeat him. He’s dying. He’s in terrible pain.”
She leapt up and paced away from him. “Don’t you think I know that?”
He watched her, her female close due to her extreme agitation. She was graceful, pacing back and forth like a restless, caged leopard. He didn’t reply, because of course he knew. She had to come to terms with her father’s dying on her own. She was resisting because she really believed she would be alone. She’d been handling her father’s business as well as taking care of him by herself for a long time.
She stopped pacing beside a long leather couch, the color a soft rust. Her fingers dug into the top, gripping it hard. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You have to let him go, Ania,” he said quietly. “You aren’t alone anymore, even if you feel you are. You have me to lean on.”
She shook her head, rejecting his decree. “I have things I have to do, and I can’t do them with you around.”
His gut knotted at her disclosure. He’d been afraid all along she was preparing to go to war with a crime lord, one she was certain had set her father up and had killed her grandparents and mother.
“Tell me what those things are.”
She got a stubborn look on her face. “I have to do them, not you.”
“Ania, you are in my care whether you like it or not. Your father knows me. He knows the kind of man I am—”
“You aren’t killing him.”
He continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him. “He gave his consent and approval to our union. My leopard has claimed yours. We live by shifter law. Look at me, kotyonok. Really see me. I am not a man you ever want to fuck with. When I give an order, it is followed. You are my woman, and you will not go behind my back and do anything without my knowledge and my agreement.”
She lifted her chin at him, her eyes flashing fire. It wasn’t her leopard facing him with fury; her anger was all woman. “You will not be dictating to me, nor will you take over my life. I’m not one of your men to be ordered around.”
“No, you’re not. You’re my woman. That means, to me, at least, you will answer to me when I ask something of you. I am asking what these tasks you have to complete are, and you clearly don’t want me to know.”
“I want you to leave. We’re not a couple, and I can assure you, we’re not going to be.”
“Ania, you’re striking out at me because you know your father is dying and it scares you to death. I’m telling you, I’m the man who will stand in front of you every time. You don’t have to like me for it, but I’m going to do it. No one else is going to see a man as great as your father lose the battle he has fought so hard to win.”
She had opened her mouth to protest but at his declaration, she pressed her lips together and shook her head, tears shining in her eyes again, even dripping on her long, feathery lashes, but she didn’t shed them.
“I don’t want him to die, Mitya.”
“Of course you don’t. He’s a good man. You have good memories of him. Keep those close. But you will break his heart if you continue to go into that room without aid. He knows his leopard will kill you. One day, you won’t win, Ania. His leopard will kill you. Then it will get out and kill Annalise. If it gets out of the house, it could wreak havoc on the neighborhood. It might kill children. Do you want that to be his legacy?”
She pressed her hands to her ears. “Stop talking, I don’t want you to say another word.”
“You have to hear this.”
“I won’t let you murder him. That’s what it would be, murder.” She hurled the accusation at him. “He won’t be able to defend himself.”
“It wouldn’t be murder. It would be self-defense. Or, you could say, a humane end to his brilliant life. What is your plan? You must have one. Once his leopard slips out, what were you planning to do?”
She pressed her fingertips to her face. “I don’t know. I just know I’m not going to hurt my own father.”
He went still, muscles locked in place. “Tell me you took a gun into that room with you. You are armed, right?”
When her gaze left his and color swept up her neck t
o her face, he moved. One leap and he was beside her. He caught her arms and gave her a little shake. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You know he’s going to lose that battle with his leopard. You know it will kill him to know that he’s hurt or killed you, and yet you still went in there without a weapon? Do you have a fucking death wish?”
His fingers bit deep and he shook her again. Abruptly he let her go and began pacing to lose some of the adrenaline rising so fast.
“I’m not going to kill him.” She kept her voice pitched low, absolute conviction stamped into her delicate features.
He swung around. “I forbid you to enter that room again. If necessary, I will have Sevastyan lock you in our safe room until this is over. You are not risking your life unnecessarily. Nor will I allow you to throw it away.”
She stared at him, shock on her face. “You can’t do that.”
“I can do it, Ania, and I will. You aren’t sacrificing your life because an asshole shot your father and set these last few years in motion. I’ll be moving into this house until it’s over.”
“I’m calling the police and having you arrested.”
“You do that. And keep doing it. Each time they come to get me, more men will enter this house and keep you from going into that room. Eventually, Sevastyan will get to you, and he’ll do exactly what I say and lock you up. I’m not fucking around with this, Ania. Your life is in danger, and so is that man’s soul. He’s terrified. Not of dying but of harming you. Can’t you see that?”
Ania didn’t want to see it, but she did. She wanted to be angry and shout and scream and protest to the heavens, but what would be the point? Mitya was a good target, one she could shoot as many arrows into as possible, but she knew that wasn’t fair either. She was being a first-class bitch and bringing out the absolute worst in Mitya—at least she hoped that was his worst.
She swept a hand through her hair and regarded him for a long time while she attempted to get her ragged, labored breathing under control. “I’m sorry, Mitya. I shouldn’t be yelling at you. I know you’re just trying to help. The thought of him dying is terrifying to me. I keep thinking if I can keep him alive long enough, the doctors will find a way to remove the bullet and he’ll be back to normal. I just want him alive.”
Mitya regarded her with cold, almost arctic blue eyes. So cold she shivered. “He’s suffering, Ania. You have to let him go.”
She closed her eyes against the truth. One hand went defensively over her throat, the other over her heart as if it ached so badly, she couldn’t take the pain. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered. She looked up at him and there was pleading in her eyes. “I don’t think I’m that strong.”
He curved his palm around the nape of her neck. “You don’t have to be that strong, Ania. I am. That’s why you have me. I promised him I’d take care of you. That I’d keep you safe. You heard him. You know what he wants. Dymka, my leopard, will make certain his leopard doesn’t suffer.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’d ever forgive you.”
“I can’t pass this duty on to one of my men. First, I respect your father too much for that. I gave him my word, and I’m your man. Not one of them. I trust Sevastyan’s leopard, but no other, to make his leopard’s death quick and painless. I don’t want Sevastyan, who has no anchor, no woman to tame his leopard, to have to control him to that point. This is a debt of honor, Ania. I have no choice. None. I must do this for you, to keep you safe, whether you want it or not. I must do it for your father, to preserve his honor. That means so much to him.”
He would not plead with her. He would state facts, but he wouldn’t seek forgiveness. If she didn’t understand now, he was certain she would eventually. Now, she was emotional and afraid. He didn’t blame her. Her father seemed to be a wonderful man. Mitya didn’t have that. He knew nothing about the emotional ties between a father and daughter. The fathers he’d known hadn’t been good men.
Ania took a deep breath and moved away from him, going to the floor in front of the fireplace again. Just dropping down as if her legs wouldn’t hold her another moment.
Mitya followed, bringing the bottle of water for her. He took the chair just behind her so she could rest her back against his legs and put her head in his lap if she wanted to do so. Right now, she remained stiff and upright, holding herself away from him, staring into the flames.
“Tell me about him, kotyonok. Clearly, he is a man of integrity. It is obvious he loves you. What did he do for the many crime lords he worked for?”
She was silent for so long he didn’t think she would answer him. He moved carefully. His body was still aching and painful from the bullet wounds. One especially still bothered him, and he often eased his position in order to try to remove the chronic pain. He was patient. He knew silence and sorrow often went hand in hand.
“My father was always laughing. Always. He could turn the worst situation into something happy, as if every occasion had some kind of sunshine in it. My mother loved his sense of humor. Every morning they smiled at each other over the breakfast table. We always ate together. They laughed a lot. They were always touching and kissing. I grew up that way, in a house filled with laughter and love.” She turned slightly to look at him. “The exact opposite of you.”
That was true. She hadn’t made it an accusation, but Mitya felt as if she was accusing him, saying without words that he was a killer and always would be. It was true. Even if she had made the allegation aloud, he wouldn’t have been able to deny it. He was a killer and he always would be. Drake Donovan had given him a purpose, a way to try for redemption, but deep down, he knew he was what he’d been twisted into.
He nodded. “That is true, Ania. The exact opposite.” That would be why he could keep her alive. No one, especially her father, was going to harm her.
“He acted as if he likes you. Even respects you.”
He couldn’t get that from the slow, slurred words, but Ania knew him better than anyone else and her voice rang with truth, so he chose to believe her. That assessment humbled him. Her father was a good man, and to have his respect meant something.
“I knew the moment his leopard saw yours, Dad would ask you to help him. I knew he would.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, rubbed her temples and then looked back at the fire.
He caught the despair written into her face. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn’t do that until she came to terms with what he had to do. Shifters couldn’t be autopsied. They had to be cremated and only another leopard could handle it. That was their sacred law and all of them, good or bad, abided by it. She was well versed in the lore of the leopards. Her family had allowed her to see their leopards. She knew about a leopard’s heat. Her estate was made for leopards. He knew because he’d spent time exploring his property as well as his neighbors’, although he hadn’t yet known them, or anything about them. The reports were still lying on his desk, just skimmed until he’d met her.
“I know he’s suffering, and he needs to be able to let go. I just haven’t been able to let him. He’s always been so strong. The rock in our family. Without him . . .” She trailed off and removed the cap to the water bottle he’d already loosened. “They stepped out of the alley and shot him so many times. One stood over him and put the bullet in his head.”
He heard the sob mixed with her rage. “They were cowards. They knew they couldn’t take him any other way. Were they leopard? Do you know those that were there?” If she did, she was the only one. There was no whisper of a hit on Antosha Dover. Not a single rumor.
“My father took jobs for various clients. We take care of their cars, keeping them in top shape. We go to them. We maintain their garages and their car collections. We provide drivers if asked to do so. Anything to do with their cars, we manage. Our family has an affinity for cars, so we often have to turn away new clients.” She fell silent again, staring into the flames.
&
nbsp; Mitya reached out to stroke a caress down her dark, thick hair. She didn’t pull away, so he began a slow massage on her scalp. She leaned into it with a little sigh, so he waited until she leaned back completely, her body between his legs so he could reach her easily.
“Dad was like my grandfather. Very fast reflexes and good eyes. His leopard probably helped, but very few could outdrive him. He cut his teeth on street racing.”
Mitya closed his eyes. Sevastyan had wanted to hire a street racer to drive him. There was a young driver no one wanted to race against because no one could beat him. He went by the name of Andi. Pieces clicked into place. Ania was Andi. She was honing her skills against some of the best drivers in the business.
“If one of our clients needed something moved from one city or state to another, and it had to get there fast and safe, they called my grandfather or father. They never failed in a single delivery.”
“Did they know what they were transporting?”
“They always knew. They just didn’t care. They said it wasn’t their business. It was our policy. Dad had contracts with our customers, and if they needed something special done and it was within his power to do it, he would oblige them. After he was shot, there were still a few jobs left undone, and I took them for him.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m a very good driver. It’s in the genes.”
“I imagine you are.” He kept his tone neutral. She wouldn’t be taking any more special jobs for any of her clients, not once he put the word out that she belonged to him and anyone asking for anything needed to come through him first.
Ania took a sip of water. “I hate being so emotional. My eyes burn and I’m not a pretty crier.” She dabbed at her eyes with the water bottle. “I think either he or my grandfather took a job with one of our clients and they didn’t want them to see what was being taken.”
There was hesitation in her voice. She was skirting the truth. “Ania, I am your mate. I can hear lies. Between us, no matter how painful, there must be truth at all times. Did one of them keep something they shouldn’t have? Not complete the drive? Take part of the shipment?”
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