Page 86 of Born into Sin

I kiss her again and then stand and leave so she can get taken care of. I walk across the hall to the room we’d made into a waiting room of sorts. There are a couple of couches and chairs and a counter in the corner with a coffeemaker and a small fridge. It’s a room where our men can wait if someone they care about is in surgery, and it’s the first time I’ve ever had cause to use it.

As soon as I step in, I turn to face Lev. He’s waiting for me like I knew he would be. His four brothers stand beside him, making it clear whose side they're on. I expected nothing less. I can feel the anger radiating off him, and when he rears back and punches me in the jaw, I don’t try and stop him. I give him this one shot because I deserve it. I fucked his eighteen-year-old daughter and took her virginity when he trusted me to keep her safe. I deserve every damn bit of this punch, but when he pulls back to give me another, I raise my hands.

“You got your hit, Lev. I’m not going to just stand here and let you take another.”

“You motherfucker,” he yells at me. “I trusted you, you fucking bastard!”

“I know, and I’m sorry we kept it from you. We were going to tell you after the Zolotov threat was taken care of.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, still looking like he’s going to attack me at any second. Lev is an excellent fighter, a man no sane person would ever willingly go against, but I’m not about to back down.

“I love her,” I say, and he lets out a harsh laugh.

“You’re old enough to be her goddamn dad.”

The others watch as Lev starts to pace the small room we’re in. At the sound of footsteps, I look up to see Dario and Sandro. They eye the Melnikov brothers and Dario asks in Italian, “What do you want us to do?”

“Nothing,” I tell him. “He’s just pissed. He’s not going to try and kill me.”

I’m not entirely sure I’m right about that last part, but there’s enough tension in this room without adding my men into the mix.

“Let’s just relax and talk about this,” Vitaly says, taking a step closer to Lev while giving me a Thanks so much for involving me in this shitstorm look.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Lev tells him. “He was supposed to watch over my daughter and instead he fucked her and then fucked with her head so she’s infatuated with him now. She’s only eighteen! She doesn’t know what the hell she wants.”

“Okay, don’t punch me right now, but Jolene was only nineteen when you met her.” Vitaly holds his hands up and lets out a forced laugh when Lev glares at him. “I’m just saying that sometimes you do know what the hell you’re talking about when you’re that young.”

“Alina was eighteen when we started our relationship,” Matvey adds.

Lev turns to him. “Don’t you fucking start. This is my daughter we’re talking about.” He looks back and points a finger at me. “We have a goddamn photo of him holding her at your wedding, Matvey. That’s fucked up!”

“I mean, it’s a bit taboo,” Vitaly agrees, “but it’s not like he helped raise her. He was gone the whole damn time because he’s a big wuss about changing diapers.”

I raise a brow at him but don’t comment. He’s not completely wrong. I had no desire to be anywhere near a diaper.

“What are your plans?” Roman asks. “Where do you see this going?”

“Yeah, you’ve always made it clear you didn’t want anything serious. Is this just a fling for you?” Danil asks.

“It’s not a fling,” I tell them. “I love her, and I want to marry her.”

“Fuck you,” Lev says, but it’s not quite as forceful as the last time he said it. He walks over and sits down on one of the couches, exhausted and worried and trying like hell to process what I’ve just thrown at him.

The rest of us follow suit and take a seat. We sit in silence, no one wanting to break the small truce we’ve established, but Vitaly can only hold out for so long.

“I found a grey hair on my balls the other night when I was trimming up, and I don’t know what to do about that.”

“Jesus fuck,” Matvey groans, looking over at his brother.

Roman sighs while Danil fights a laugh.

Lev just says, “I don’t know what the fuck you expect me to do with that incredibly personal bit of information you’ve just shared with all of us.”

Dario mutters a “These Russians are crazy as fuck” to Sandro in Italian, and I don’t bother correcting him because my cousin’s not wrong.

“The point is life is short,” Vitaly continues like that should’ve been obvious from his grey ball hair story. “We’re getting older. We’ve reached the grey ball hair stage of our lives.”

“Speak for yourself,” Matvey says with a soft laugh. “Not all of us have reached that milestone.”

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