Page 45 of Forced Bratva Wife

“I want to come with you. It has to do with my father. I need to see this through.”

Lev’s glare flicked up to mine from his watch, his fingers stilling on the band. As he held my stare, he narrowed those dark eyes, tilting his head as he considered me. The soft give of the bed beneath me felt too squishy like it wasn’t there to help me keep my spine straight.

“I don’t think that’s wise.” He finished tucking the leather strap of his Rolex for the day into the loop. “You remember how my men came in here the other day.”

Rolling my stare to the ceiling, I sighed and blinked long. “Of course I do. But I need to be a part of this. My father made my life a living hell. If something’s going to happen to him, I…I just need to be totally in the loop. Not on an information delay.”

“Parker,” Lev folded his arms over his chest as he regarded her, “this is just a meeting with my men. I’m not seeing your father. I’m not going anywhere near him. If you’re that concerned, I can detail the information to you when I return.”

Standing up from the bed, I mirrored Lev’s position. I couldn’t wait like that. I wasn’t about to set the precedence of being a push-over when I had finally made some ground with Lev—and was also apparently his wife now. Mobster or not, I’m not getting pushed around. I worked too damn hard to get some control over my life.

“I’m going.” Glaring right back at him, I nodded once. “If it’s just a meeting with your men, I’ll be even safer. So you can’t use that as your excuse. We’re married now, right Lev? So, if I’m in this, then I’m really going to be in it.”

He scowled at me—vitriol and amusement warring behind his eyes. After a few moments of playing chicken with each other, Lev sighed, his shoulders relaxing.

“Fine. But you will not speak, understood? I will carry the conversation with my men. You open that naughty little mouth of yours once, and I’m dragging you back to this room for punishment.” He leaned closer, putting a hand on the bedpost. “And you won’t like it as much as the other times.”

Part of me desperately wanted to poke the bear in this moment, make a joke about tempting me with a good time. Still, we’d already dallied quite a bit this morning. I’d be the first to admit that my body needed a break—unfortunately.

“Understood,” I smiled, seeming polite, “husband.”

I knew the term elicited a strange, potent response from Lev. Apparently, I couldn’t resist just a tiny bit of teasing, no matter what my rational mind said.

Lev smirked, opening up his arm toward the door, and I stepped past him. As I slipped by, his hand found my back, the pads of his fingers pushing into my bruised skin, and I hissed.

“Two can play this little game of yours, darling.”

Without looking back at him, I straightened the thin cream sweater he’d chosen for the day, smoothing it over the waistband of my gray wide-leg pants.

Thankfully, sensible flats were on the menu today, and when I reached the door, I snagged the loose jacket I’d worn before to keep me from getting too cold in the Chicago wind. From behind me, Lev threaded his arm through mine, leading me from the bedroom and down the long hall to the main floor.

Mafia princess, eat your heart out.

***

The restaurant where we were meeting Lev’s men was right in the heart of downtown. A Greek place that was just opening for lunch. The bell above the door jingled as we walked in, and the scent of mouth-watering Greek staples filled the air. I could smell gyros, tzatziki sauce, the toasted chickpeas of falafels, and the overarching fragrance of roasted garlic behind everything.

Shit, I’m starving. This probably isn’t an actual lunch date, though.

Lev led us to the back of the restaurant behind a curtain of beads. There was a table set in the corner where any conversations could be kept private, and as he B-lined straight for it, he nodded at the older man standing in the kitchen.

“Mr. Vadim. Good to see you. Would you like any drinks or something to eat?”

Pulling out a chair for me, Lev helped me to sit down, circling behind the table to sit to my left with the wall at his back. I could see why he’d want the spot. He could see the entire place from his position.

“Thank you, Georgio. We’ll take the usual.”

Lev offered a polite smile, but I could see no malice behind his stare, which meant he was actually okay with the owner. It was a strange thought, considering all I knew about mobster stuff was that they usually harassed these kinds of people.

“Sure thing, Mr. Vadim. Good to see you.”

All right yeah, I know nothing about this world.

After a few minutes of waiting, some drinks were brought out, a scotch for Lev, I assumed by the look of it, and then several plates of appetizers. I looked down at the spread, and my stomach actually growled.

With a chuckle, Lev handed me a small plate from the stack the waiter brought. “Eat up, little one.”

At that, I wasted no time being proper or whatever the fuck Lev might have expected from me as his wife and dug right in. As I was finishing a piece of falafel, a few men pushed through the beaded curtain, and I swallowed down my bite along with a heaping dose of anxiety.

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