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“I trust you…"

After Piers had expressed his outrage in a muted fashion, Lucien had put his foot down. Hard.

“It is either that or let them kill him,“ he announced bluntly.

That had got Piers's attention. He could not in his heart, think of giving his brother away to the Bratva for he knew how dangerous the large outfit was. But he also knew how the Russians would not hesitate to kill anyone who had appeared to dishonour their women.

He changed tack.

“Mumma?” he stuttered hesitantly.

"What about your Mumma?" growled Lucien, drawing his brows together in a fierce, threatening frown as he eyeballed his oldest son.

“I mean…Sir…What does she…?” asked Piers bravely, although his father’s cold stare was making him sweat uncomfortably.

Lucien grunted.

“Your Mumma knows to trust me when it comes to the good of our children.’

And the matter was ended with that pronouncement.

*

When the unsuspecting Claude returned late that evening, he was told to head to his father’s study immediately. Sweating profusely, t
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