Sinister Promise – Ivanov Crime Family Read Online Zoe Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Zoe Blake Advertisement

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She swallowed hard, fingers tightening in my shirt. "I was scared."

I closed my eyes, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her hair. "I won't let it happen again. You will be protected, sheltered. I swear it."

She tilted her head, gazing up at me remnants of that fear swimming in her dark eyes.

"You promise?"

I cupped her face, my thumb stroking her cheek. "I swear to you with everything that I am."

She hesitated, then whispered, "Then I'll hold you to it, Pavel."

My chest ached.

She trusted me. She believed me.

Anyone who tried to take her from me again would beg for death before I was done with them.

CHAPTER 33

PAVEL

We had an unseen enemy.

That much was certain.

Someone had been lurking in the shadows and stalking our organization for some time now.

But they fucked up…big.

They made the mistake of going after my wife.

For that, they would die. Painfully.

One thing was clear, Los Infideles had a new, very well-funded leader, with intimate knowledge of our business.

A war was coming.

Usually the prospect of blood and violence would set my pulse racing.

Although I didn't seek it out, I didn't exactly shy away from violence. In my world, it was a necessary tool of business. Every now and then you needed to remind both your enemies and your allies why you were to be feared, and your authority never questioned.

This would give us the opportunity to reassert the dominance of the Ivanov bratva. Especially with my brothers now in the country to reinforce Gregor, Damien and Mikhail's already extensive and influential syndicate.

A new era for the Ivanovs was coming.

And yet…all I could think about…all I wanted to do… was get back to Alina.

The last thing I wanted to do this morning was leave my bed. I could have stayed there forever, just savoring her warmth cuddled up against my body while the soft cadence of her breathing surrounded me.

It had been a few weeks since those fake cops had tried to use her to get to me.

The bruise on her cheek had faded but the memory of the traumatizing event hadn't.

It still was a battle within me to leave her side each day.

Never again would I allow her to be put in danger.

Hopefully the message of that pussy “detective's” badly mutilated body found in a ditch right outside the precinct had sent a very clear message.

Don't. Fuck. With. Us.

It would only be a matter of time before we learned the hidden leader's identity.

Then we would strike.

Gregor had reluctantly agreed to bring in Roman for just that reason.

I'd gone with him and Damien to inspect the new dock warehouses we had purchased to receive arms under the radar.

We were headed back to the city and I was already anticipating all the decadent things I had planned for my new wife when I spotted a JoAnn Fabrics coming up on the right.

I leaned forward from the back seat and tapped Damien, who was driving, on the shoulder. "Do me a favor and pull in there."

Damien raised an eyebrow as he realized where I was pointing. "Are you serious?"

"Just do it."

Gregor turned to stare at me from the passenger seat. "I'm sorry, are we cutting into your craft time?"

I threw off my seat belt as our Range Rover pulled into the parking lot. "Fuck off."

Alina and I were visiting her grandmother at the end of the week, and I wanted to bring her some yarn and a few other supplies. Her grandmother was a sweet woman. Neither of them deserved the bullshit her father put them through.

I was more than happy to be the one to step in and spoil them both rotten.

Like my brothers, my life had a new focus beyond blood and money.

And it felt good.

A rush of cool air hit us as the metal doors slid open.

The store was brightly lit with an aggressive number of fake flowers at the entrance.

All eyes turned to stare as three towering, tattooed Russians invaded the pastel paradise of suburban crafting.

Several women grabbed their young children and pulled them out of our path as we walked deeper into the store.

After passing wedding favors, fabrics, and something that looked like an entire aisle dedicated to something called scrapbooking, I found the yarn.

Damien shook his head. "Fuck. Who knew there were so many colors of fucking yarn."

I smacked his chest and gestured to the horrified women scurrying out of the aisle. "Watch your fucking language around the women. Have some respect."

Gregor picked up a bundle of pink yarn. "What is this for?"

I placed my hands on my hips as I surveyed the yarn options. "Alina's grandmother."

He smirked. "No, I figured that. What is she making—a scarf, a hat, a sweater?"

I gestured with my hands. "What are those blankets with all the squares?"

Damien chimed in. "Afghan."

I pointed to him. "Yes! Afghan. She's making an afghan for one of the nurses who takes care of her."


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