“What the fuck’s wrong with her?” Alexander demanded. His wary gaze took Mila in, and he didn’t even glance at the dead man beside him. After adjusting Mila’s weight so her head rested on my shoulder, I picked up my cigar and puffed on it while viewing her unconscious form with feigned narrow-eyed concern. “Not sure. Do you think she needs to eat?” I blew out a breath of smoke and met Alexander’s gaze, mine sparking. “I thought Mikhailov women only needed to be fucked to survive.” For some reason, I didn’t want to tell him about her phobia. Those little details were mine. “You son of a bitch,” he seethed. “She’s not her mother—” “Save it,” I said, bored. “I’ve heard it before.” “Let her go. You can take me instead.” “Tempting, but you’re not my type.” I sent a look to Viktor to get him out of here. “Strip him,” I ordered. “He can crawl back to Alexei like a wounded dog.” Meeting Alexander’s eyes as Viktor hauled him to his feet, I said, “Make sure you tell Alexei how well his daughter fares.” He glared. “Fuck you.” Viktor punched him in the stomach before slamming his pretty face into the table. I sighed when blood splattered onto my piece of cake. “Watch out for the wolves,” I added while he was being dragged out. “Although, I hope they have better taste.” “Go to hell, D’yavol—” Viktor yanked him out the door. Sitting back in my chair, I held an annoying look with Albert before he got to his feet and left the room. I was blowing out a smoke ring, feeling oddly content, when Mila roused. I bit my cigar between my teeth and pulled the bloody cake to her. “Medovik, kotyonok?” Her expression paled, and as a soft chuckle left me, she scrambled off my lap and puked into a potted plant. OceanofPDF.com