Soon, Mila had an audience. Pavel stepped into view and appeared ready to catch her if she fell, which was laughable given Mila’s height outmatched his and the fact she’d only take him down with her. It became clear his stronger motivation was to get a glimpse up her dress. I couldn’t blame the kid, but I also experienced an odd desire to punch him in the face. And then there was Albert, the sensible one, just watching Mila navigate her way up a tree with a bird in one hand. Her boot slipped on a branch, and bark fell to the snow before she found a better footing. I was beginning to feel itchy and uncomfortable everywhere. Yulia better not have put peppermint in my tea. She knew I was allergic and that I broke out in hives worse than a Benadryl commercial. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I dialed Albert and brought it to my ear. “Da?” “Get her down from there now,” I ordered in Russian. His gaze coasted over to meet mine through the window. “I tried, boss. She won’t listen.” “Are you telling me you can’t corral one fucking woman?” “No. Just not this one.” What was so fucking different about this one? My eyes drifted up the tree to watch Mila’s ascent. How high was the nest? Heaven? I gritted my teeth and asked, “Why does she look like she’s been bikini mud wrestling?” He hesitated for a beat before admitting, “She was playing with the dogs.” The line went intensely silent for a beat. “Not Khaos.” It was more of a growl than a question. The dog had turned aggressive and unpredictable, and he needed to be put down. “Nyet.” I was glad he had a little sense. “I told her to not touch the bird. The mother won’t come back now.” This was why Khaos still breathed even though he’d bitten five of my men. Albert couldn’t kill a fucking insect. “That’s a myth,” I told him impatiently. He scratched his cheek and made a casual sound that felt anything but. “That’s exactly what she said.” “T want her down in the next five seconds,” I snapped and hung up.