Page 14 of Born into Sin

I smack his shoulder and finish my drink. “You can’t just go around shooting everyone who pisses you off. You have to learn to use your words, Lev.”

Before he walks off to join Jolene, who’s just stepped outside with the other wives, he says, “Perks of running a Bratva. Yes, I fucking can.”

I smile because he’s not wrong. We spend the next couple of hours eating and catching up. Their family is loud and boisterous and I end up laughing more than I have in a very long time. By the time dessert is done, my jacket is off, the sleeves of my white, button-up are rolled to my elbows, and I’m forcing myself to switch to coffee because I’ve had way too much to fucking drink.

Roman whispers something in Emily’s ear before kissing her cheek and then giving her ass a soft pat when she stands up from his lap. She cups his face and smiles at him like she’s just as much in love with him as when I first met them. All the couples around me are that way. They’re constantly touching one another, sharing secret, heated looks, and whispering in each other’s ears. The kids aren’t fazed by it, which tells me it’s not at all out of the ordinary and just something they see every day. My family has always tended to be a little more closed off about our feelings, unless we’re angry, then the whole fucking world knows it, but the sweet stuff? That’s not something an Alessi man shows in front of others. It’s seen as a sign of weakness, and appearing weak is a sin that’s just one step below betraying your blood. Unforgivable.

Emily kisses Roman once more before grabbing her drink and heading inside. The rest of the women follow her lead and kiss their husbands before doing the same. Their daughters stand to join them, along with the younger boys. My eyes briefly meet Natalya’s when she leans over the table to grab another water bottle. My eyes run down the curve of her neck, noticing the way a light blush hits her cheeks, and when our eyes meet again, her lips part ever so slightly, and it’s enough to make my cock stir in my pants. The look only lasts a few seconds, but it feels so much longer before she turns her head and walks inside. I force myself to not stare at her retreating ass.

When I look back around the table, I see that Luka, Maxim, and Val are still sitting by their dads.

“They need to learn how things work,” Roman says. “Do you mind?”

I look at the boys and give them a nod. “Not at all.” I trust the men around me, and if they want their sons in on this, then it’s fine by me. Bratvas may not be run in the same way mafias are, but we all know that loyalty and secrecy come above all else. I have no doubt that’s been drilled into the three eighteen-year-olds who are watching us but smart enough to not say anything. They’re here to learn, not participate.

Danil rests his forearms on the table and meets my eyes. “I know your men have been giving you updates, and for the most part things have been pretty damn peaceful. We’ve had some local gang shit, but nothing that wasn’t easily squashed.” He flicks the fingers of one hand out when he speaks, making it clear that getting rid of them didn’t even qualify as a slight headache. “There have been a few attacks on our men in the southern part of our territory, though.”

My brow raises in interest, waiting for him to go on, but it’s Matvey who takes over.

“We think it might be another Bratva.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask him.

He shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair. “Our men heard them speaking Russian. They were too organized and too well-equipped to be a local gang. This was someone coming in from the outside.”

I take a drink and think about what he’s said. “Any ideas on who it could be? My men tell me everything’s been quiet on our side. Whoever it is, they haven’t stepped foot on the east side yet.”

“We don’t know who it is yet,” Danil tells me. “I’m working on it, but there weren’t any security cameras in the area where the attack happened, and so far everything’s quiet, no rumors about anyone new trying to move in.”

I can hear the frustration in his voice, and I’m guessing he’s spent a lot of hours on his computer trying to figure out who could be behind this.

“Let me know if you need anything from me,” I tell them. “I’d like to continue working together now that I’m back on a more permanent basis. Dario and Alessandro will be handling my clubs, and I’ll tell them to keep an ear out for any news. Anything you need from me, just let me know.”

“Good to know,” Roman says, giving me a grin. “It’d be a real pain in the ass to go to war with you.”

“Tell me about it,” I groan. “Who the fuck has time for that?”

Lev looks over at the young men who are silently taking in every detail of what’s going on. “I hope you three appreciate how many people we had to kill to get to this point. Enjoy the peace we’ve bled for.”

“Yeah,” Vitaly says with a laugh, giving his son a smack on the back. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“We’re not planning on it, Dad,” Val tells him.

I can tell it’s lesson time, so I take another drink of coffee and sit back to listen. Roman watches his own son. Luka looks so much like his dad, right down to the stern expression on his face, like he’s already carrying the weight of his family on his shoulders.

“Never start shit if you don’t have to,” Roman tells him. “Don’t ever start a fight unless you’re absolutely certain you can not only win, but also decimate the other side, because any survivors are going to be threats that you’re going to always be worrying about.”

Luka nods his head, taking in everything his dad is telling him while the other two listen in just as hard. Max scrubs a hand over his face, reminding me that Danil once told me he was a gifted pianist. His long fingers look like they should be playing intricate pieces of music instead of holding weapons and taking lives, but we don’t always get to choose our path in life. I almost start to feel sorry for him until I see the look in his grey eyes. He’s hungry for this, just as much as his dad and uncles and the two cousins beside him. He may have another side to him, a softer, gentler side, but that’s not all that’s living inside him. Val, on the other hand, is a little harder to read. He’s quieter than I expected, considering who his dad is, but I get the feeling that not much gets by him.

Vitaly grins. “Don’t start shit you can’t finish, but,” he says, drawing the word out, “if someone fucks with your family or tries to encroach on your territory, then you have to do whatever it takes to send a message.”

“And sometimes that message is very bloody,” Lev says, making his brothers give a few soft laughs.

The boys smile, already impatient and anxious to make their own mark on the Bratva they’ve been born into. We talk for several more minutes. They fill me in on the new clubs they’ve opened. Pink, the strip club that Vitaly turned into one of the most respected gentleman clubs in the city is still bringing in a hefty profit every month, but they’ve also branched out and opened up a couple of nightclubs, one of them near the city’s most prestigious university, hoping to draw the rich students in.

“Like moths to a fucking flame,” Vitaly says. “Those rich kids can’t spend their parents’ money fast enough.”

“You selling there?” I ask.

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