Page 25 of Scarred Ruin

She nodded, taking the glass of wine from me. Our fingers touched and as I’d seen before, her body tensed. There was no denying the electricity we shared, a flareup of the very same series of sensations as experienced during the dance.

But she certainly had no intention of acknowledging anything.

“We’ll go to my office.”

As we walked through the house, I could sense she was being very observant of the open rooms as we passed. When I ushered her into the corner space, her expression immediately brightened.

“What a fantastic view. Wait. Is that a badminton net?”

I closed the door before answering.

“Yes,” I offered and I sensed a pained look on my face. “Mina came home from school on Tuesday telling me everyone had one and that she was being deprived. And yes, she used that term.”

Isabel laughed until she choked. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Apparently, I’m not coordinated enough to play in her league. I think my daughter will grow up to be a shark with anything she puts her mind to.”

And there it was, a moment when the attempt at being nothing but two typical colleagues ended and her curiosity became too much to ignore.

“Who was trying to kidnap Mina?”

At least with her asking the question, I could feel free to delve into the situation. “I don’t know as of yet.”

She turned toward me, shaking her head slowly. “You don’t know?”

“Don’t sound so shocked, Isabel. In my world, I have any number of enemies depending on the day of the week. There were no overt threats, in fact none at all. At least recently.”

“That’s terrible. Are you assuming it’s the same person who tried to kill you and… And who killed your friend?” Her words were terse and I couldn’t blame her.

“Undoubtedly.”

Her expression shifted from one emotion to another. “What did you do to cause someone to be so utterly reprehensible?”

“Often, I don’t need to do a thing.”

“Because of the business world you created.”

I offered a single nod. “Yes, and of the power I wield.”

“Because you’re mafia.”

She was hoping for a truthful answer. Why lie at this point? “Bratva.”

“What’s the difference? Aren’t you involved in illegal underground activities while disguising your crimes behind a legitimate business in hopes of avoiding arrest? Don’t both organizations use violence to achieve their goals, which includes horrific acts of torture and kidnapping?”

I was getting another taste of her directness, which I appreciated. “The Bratva follow a code of honor. Vorovskoi Zakan, which translates to Code of Thieves. Other crime syndicates are far less respectful of each other.”

“Code of Thieves. Is that anything like a den of vipers?” Her distaste was evident, but certainly not off-putting.

“My men have sworn an oath to me and my family. They would die to protect us. In turn, they are treated with the same respect.”

“Would you do the same for them?”

No one had ever asked me that question before. “In certain circumstances, yes, I would.”

At least she seemed to appreciate my answer. “I’m sorry, Mr. Aristov, but I do have scruples. I don’t know if I can knowingly work on a project funded by mob money.”

“That’s what you think? That all the investors in the room and the members of the trust are connected to crime syndicates?”