42. Mikhail

"I'm surprised you're here, brother." Anatoly is sitting behind my desk, his hands steepled in front of him in mock seriousness. "I didn't expect you to come up for air for several more hours."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I wave him away from my desk. He hops up and I reclaim my chair.

I'd still be in Viviana's room if she hadn't fallen asleep. I can't blame her. After this morning and then tonight, she deserves the rest.

"I'm talking about what the rest of the household staff can't seem to stop talking about." Anatoly wags his brows. "The hallways in this house really carry sound. Did you know that?"

I usually try to show a bit more restraint, but it was impossible tonight. Viviana was feral. I wasn't much better.

What we did felt primal in more ways than one. After Helen's surprise appearance, it was like neither of us could settle until we'd staked our claims.

"You spend your time gossiping with the staff now?"

"Just Stella." He says her name a bit too casually. If I was Anatoly, I'd jump on that. But at least one of us has to have a little decorum. "She's thrilled for the two of you, by the way. She thinks you guys are living out a real life love story."

"It isn't love," I snap.

Stella only needs to look at the bruises already blooming on Viviana's throat and ass to know this isn't some fairytale. What kind of Prince Charming spanks the princess until she comes?

Anatoly narrows his eyes. He doesn't buy it, but I don't care. He doesn't need to buy it.

I just need it to be true.

For once in his life, Anatoly decides to keep whatever he's thinking to himself. Instead, he smirks. "What's so important it dragged you away from your woman?"

Pulling away from Viviana's naked, sleep-warm body should be counted as torture. Few things could have gotten me out of that bed.

This is one of them.

"Someone kidnapped her."

Anatoly frowns. "I'm going to assume you'd be a lot more upset right now if Viviana was missing, so kindly explain what the hell you're talking about."

"When she was little," I grit out. Even thinking about it has my blood rushing in my ears. "They locked her in a trunk. It's why she is claustrophobic."

"It's why she tried to rip my head off when I opened the closet door," Anatoly infers, the pieces coming together. "A-ha. I knew there was more there."

Raoul opens the office door and slips inside. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's okay. You just missed learning about Viviana's kidnapping."

I can tell Anatoly just wants to confuse Raoul the way I just confused him, but Raoul only nods. "When she was twelve?"

"How the fuck do you know that?" I snap.

"After we talked the other day, I looked into her past like you asked." Raoul looks from my blank face to Anatoly's, his frown deepening with every passing second. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Anatoly throws up his hands. "No, man! We talked about this. Mikhail needs to get to know Viviana the old-fashioned way. No private investigators and no background checks."

Raoul shrugs. "Guess I missed that memo. I dug up some stuff."

"Like what?" I ask.

At the same time, Anatoly barks, "Don't say a word, Raoul."

"I'll remind you both that you work for me." I wave Anatoly off and turn to Raoul. "Do you know who kidnapped her?"

"No. It was a small blip in the information I found out, but I could dig deeper. I could get names if you want them."

"Oh, I fucking want them," I growl. "And I'm not going to stop until every single person responsible for hurting Viviana is dead."

"And he says it isn't love." Anatoly is mumbling and snorting under his breath.

"What was that?" I curve my hand around my ear and lean towards him. "I couldn't hear you. Speak up."

He's wise enough not to say it a second time.

"I'm wondering if you want us to keep monitoring Helen and the Greeks," he says instead. "They might try to retaliate against Viviana."

I wish they would. I'll kill them, too.

"Do both," I announce. "Any threat towards Viviana or Dante needs to be monitored."

"And the men who kidnapped her eighteen years ago qualify as a ‘threat'?" Anatoly drawls, unconvinced.

"Anything causing my wife distress is a threat. The fact that those men survived to live another day bothers her. I intend to fix it."

Whatever Anatoly thinks about my motivations, his eyes glimmer with the promise of bloodshed. "What do you have in mind?"

"Their scalps could make a nice wedding gift," I muse.

"You want them dead and you want it to hurt," Raoul summarizes. "Done and done."

"When can you bring them to me?" I ask.

Raoul and Anatoly look at each other, silently communicating something. They've been working side by side for years and it shows.

Anatoly runs a nervous hand through his hair. "This kind of mission could have some blowback, brother. Especially towards Viviana. If these men found out she is involved, they could come looking for her."

"I'd like to see them fucking try."

"You might like to see it, but Viviana wouldn't." Anatoly waits for understanding to dawn.

I sigh. "You want me to get her out of here."

"Her and Dante," Raoul adds. "For their own safety."

They're right. Viviana could become a target if the men involved in her kidnapping all those years ago find out we're going after them for revenge. Since the bastards love kidnapping children so much, Dante isn't off the table, either.

"So I'll send them away while I stay here and kill those men with my bare hands."

"You'd leave Viviana and Dante in a strange new place without you, me, or Raoul with them?" Anatoly shakes his head, answering his own question.

Well, when he puts it like that…

"Fuck." I flop back in my chair. "Fine. You two handle it. But take pictures. I want there to be plenty of evidence to show Viviana. To prove that they're dead."

"Don't you worry ‘bout a thing," Anatoly reassures me, practically rubbing his hands together in glee. "You enjoy your honeymoon; Raoul and I will handle everything else."

"It's not a honeymoon; it's a distraction."

"I bet it will be very distracting." He hops out of his chair and heads for the door. "Oh, by the way… Nice scratch marks."

Unfortunately, he dodges just in time to miss the stapler I hurl at his head.