Bloodlines: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (The Snake Eyes Series Book 4) (10 page)

“Sofia!”
Gio stands up and claps his hands to make her come back. “Please alert the staff to make up the guest wing. The Lutrovas are staying the night.”

She locks eyes with me but she turns away just as quickly. “Yes, sir,” she says, casting a sweet smile at him.

It’s enough to make me nauseous. Not only will I have to endure an entire evening of watching Sofia suffer through Zappia tradition, I have to do it with her taste on my tongue.
Again.

But I suppose there is a silver lining this time.

I’ll get to spend time with my son.

***

“His eyes are quite bright
.
Aren’t they
bright
?”

Fucking hell, Yuri.

I glare at his pink, drunken face beside me at the dinner table as he and Gio lean in to get a better look at Lucian. Even Rosalie casts a quick glance at her nephew before dropping her eyes back down to her plate again. Occasionally, I’ll catch her sneaking a harsh peek over at me but I imagine if she were going to say something about what she saw earlier, she would have done so already.

Sofia looks at me from her place across the table. Her spine straightens as she silently waits for Gio’s reaction.

Finally, he leans back and waves his hand. “It’s just the light in here, I think,” he says, reaching over to poke Lucian’s chin.

The boy twitches in his high chair between Gio and Sofia, obviously favoring the attention of his mother over his not-so father. He whines and Gio rolls his eyes before grabbing his drinking glass.

“Besides,” he adds, pausing to take a long sip, “he takes everything from Sofia and there’s not a bright feature on her entire face.”

Yuri frowns. “I don’t know…”

I clear my throat. “Where did you say you got this vodka, Gio?” I ask. I don’t even pay attention to his answer. I just wanted to pull Yuri’s eyes off of my son’s and the best way to distract a Russian is to bring up decent booze.

Sofia relaxes her shoulders and I can’t help but stare at her chest as it heaves softly with her breath.

“Well, it’s
great
,” Yuri slurs. “Excellent choice, Gio.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Gio chuckles. “There’s plenty more in my study and I’ll be more than happy to break it out. The night is still young.”

“Here! Here!” Yuri tips his glass down his throat and I take a sip to participate.

Lucian.
It’s definitely not the light in here and I wasn’t just seeing things earlier. His eyes
are
bright, enough to make anyone take notice. Sofia and Gio have brown eyes. I’m no geneticist but I can’t imagine the odds of brown plus brown equaling gray are that high.

I try to keep my head down but I can’t stop staring at him across the table from me.

He stares back at me, too.

Gio claps his hands. “Let’s go break open that other bottle now, shall we? The ladies will clear the table.”

As he stands up, his chair legs grind loudly across the floor and Lucian reacts to the harsh sound. His face squishes up and my gut aches as tears fill his little eyes.

Sofia throws on a soft face — one far more convincing than mine would be — and quickly tries to comfort him enough before the waterworks start.

Instead, he cries, letting out a piercing wail and Gio rolls his eyes.

“And there he goes…” he slurs loudly. “Sofia, shut that damn kid up!”

I dig my nails into my palms under the table.

Sofia pulls Lucian out of his chair and holds him against her as she makes fast strides towards the hallway. I watch her leave, once again admiring the very
essence
of her as she carries him away.

Mother and child. My child and his mother.

I turn back to find Rosalie staring at me with a judgmental brow raised high.

Yuri slaps my shoulder and slides out of his chair. “I have to take a piss.”

I roll my eyes, though I can’t be surprised. I’ve never once described my big brother as
classy.

“Walk with me, Luka,” Gio says, making a grand gesture at me.

I force myself out of my chair to follow him outside into the hall, wishing my brother had chosen a better time to go relieve himself.

“Talk to me,” he says, downing the last of his glass down his throat. “Tell me about what’s going on with security over in Moscow. A lot of my work is moving papers and handholding. It’s not nearly as exciting as your job.”

“There’s not much to tell,” I say, being vague.

“But what do you
do
? Luka Lutrova wakes up on Monday morning and what does he do? Where does he go?”

I bite my inner cheek. “I accompany my family in public and investigate threats towards them.”

Gio’s brow rises. “What kind of threats?”

“All kinds.”

He sighs as we round the corner.
“Like…?”

I look back to see if Yuri is on his way yet. Knowing my brother and his drinking habits, he’s probably not just pissing in there. I think hard, trying to come up with something to throw at Gio and I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“There’s
the kobra.
”

He laughs.
“The kobra?
What’s that?”

“I wish I knew.” I pause, wondering how much detail I should give, but Gio is drunk as hell right now. He probably won’t remember this conversation even happened at all. “There’s been some murders in Moscow over the last few years. I think they’re connected but I can’t prove it.”

“Why do you think that?”

“The victims. They are found with bullets through their eyes but there’s no connection other than that, so it’s hard to say. There hasn’t been anything like it in Moscow for three decades but they’ve come back recently. We call them
the kobra
because my grandfather caught one years ago and he had a cobra tattoo on his chest…”

Gio pauses outside of his study and bites his lip. “Hmm…”

“What?”

He raises his hand, pointing his finger upward as he furrows his brow. “I might be able to help you.”

I blink. “Really?”

“I want to say…” he pauses to let out a quiet belch, “I want to say that I read of similar murders in Venice last month but I can’t be sure. Let me look into it for you.”

I fight the urge to take a long step back as his hand lands on my shoulder. “No, Gio. That won’t be necessary.”

He scoffs and lays his free palm over his chest. “It’s no trouble. I want to help. Really. Let me help you, Luka.
I insist.
”

“Fine,” I sigh, banking on the idea of him never remembering this. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispers, pushing his alcohol-laced breath in my direction. “You know, you and I might make a pretty good team.”

I force a laugh. “Whatever you say, Gio.”

“I should come to Moscow sometime and help you
investigate threats
,” he says, his voice high-pitched with zeal. “We could put our brains together, compare notes, chase down the bad guys — or I should say, the
badder
guys. Is there a lot of running involved? Jumping over cars? Gun fights?”

“I don’t think you quite understand what I do, Gio…”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m in. Unless there’s
heights.
I don’t do heights.” He pauses with a far-off look in his eyes. “You ever have that dream, Luka? The one where you’re falling from the sky towards the ground?”

“Yeah.”

He shudders and wanders into his study. “I don’t do heights.”

Chapter 11

Sofia

It’s been hours but I can still feel Luka’s hands on me… and
in
me.

The bed feels warmer than usual. The pillows feel thicker. The blanket hugs me with comfort. Every nerve inside of me sings and I have to fight not to touch myself all over.

And the way he was looking at Lucian tonight? Like he’s the most perfect child that ever existed? It’s taking all of my restraint not to seek Luka out and drop to my knees.

The bedroom door opens and I pretend to be asleep.

Gio stumbles through the dark and flicks on the lamp on his side of the bed, no doubt in an attempt to wake me but I keep my eyes closed and unmoving. The last thing in the world I want right now is for Gio to touch me — not after what I felt today. Not after Luka Lutrova made me feel so—

“Sofia.”

No. Please, no.

He shakes my shoulder. At this point, if I continue faking it, he’ll know it.

I let my eyes flutter open and I look up at him. His cheeks are red and puffy, the same way they always look once he’s thrown back a few drinks. The soft lamplight behind him halos his head, casting most of his face in shadows but I can still make out his eyes. There’s only one thing he’s looking for when they’re as dark as they are now.

He pulls the blanket from me and kicks his shoes off before reaching for his belt.

“No.” The word slips from my mouth before I can even think to stop it.

Gio pauses. “No?” He leans over me and I bite my tongue. “Did you just say no to me?”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I stutter. “I’m not feeling well tonight. You understand.”

“I understand that you’re my wife and that it is your duty to submit to me.”

“Please…”

“And now you’re
begging…
” He stares down at me, his eyes trailing a line down my nightgown to my toes, each moment filling his face with more anger than before. “You’re begging when you should be silent; when you should be faithful and obedient.”

“Gio, please—”

I wince, realizing far too late the mistake I’ve made. His palm collides with my face and I taste blood before I even feel the pain on my cheek.

“You dare speak my name.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Get out,”
he spits. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow. I don’t want an ungrateful wench in my bed tonight.”

I dart up and keep my head down as I walk towards the hallway door. He says nothing else and I say a silent prayer of gratitude as I close the door behind me. The sound echoes, traveling back and forth through the empty corridor, just barely overwhelming the pulse thumping in my ears.

My feet move me directly across the hall and I push open the door to Lucian’s room. I can tell before I see him that he’s sleeping, the quiet sounds of his breath rising his chest up and down in the darkness.

Run.

I shake my head as I sit down in the rocking chair. It’s the obvious solution. Take Lucian and walk out the front door — but we’d never make it. The guards rarely stray from their paths and there’s never a moment when every exit of the estate isn’t being watched.

Kill him.

I look into the crib, listening to my son’s steady breath. Killing Gio would be a mistake. Even if I managed it, I’d never survive the aftermath and then what would become of Lucian? Would he be sent to America to be raised by his Zappia uncles? Or even Antony himself? I shudder at the thought. Gio is evil but he’s the lesser of them compared to his father.

Luka.

There’s a shimmer of hope in my chest but it leaves me just as fast as a passing breath. Luka Lutrova owes me nothing and I’ll never ask him for anything, just as I promised. I can’t ask him for help again.

Even if he wanted to help me again, there’s still the matter of the family truce to consider. He’d never risk that and I wouldn’t either.

No one can ever know.

I lick my lips and, for a moment, I feel his tongue and taste his breath mixing with mine. That warmth teases my toes again but I can’t let this become the norm. I can’t let these feelings deep down get the better of me.

I have to stay away from Luka Lutrova until the day I die.

Chapter 12

Luka

I stare across the table at Sofia, feeling a quiet rage building inside of me.

She hasn’t raised an eye to me all morning. Her attentions are laser-focused on Lucian instead, with her head down and her long hair draped over her face, covering her left eye in painfully obvious ways.