Page 66 of Forced Bratva Wife

He tried to shrug but only moved one shoulder since the other was a bit touchy.

“Honestly?” Lev eyed me, and I nodded. “No. I didn’t think I’d be coming back. And I wasn’t unarmed. I had a knife.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I shook my head. “That does not count. Though…”

I lifted up the halves of his button-down shirt.

“You’re full of surprises.”

“I may be impatient, but I’m not stupid. Of course, I wore a vest. Pavel should have thought of that.”

An odd well of sadness opened behind my ribs. My father was dead, but it wasn’t so much his loss that I mourned as much as the loss of the chance to have any type of relationship with a parent. I’d also come so close to losing Lev, which I knew would have killed me.

“I’m glad he didn’t. I…” My throat tightened. “You would have died otherwise.”

“I didn’t. And I think that’s because of you.” Lev gripped my hand tighter, and the strength there was reassuring.

“Sorry, I had to cut your shirt. I needed room to work.”

He regarded the flaps of fabric hanging loosely around him. With a tired smirk, Lev’s attention moved from his own disheveled appearance to mine.

“Jesus, I’d almost forgotten.” His hand left mine to smooth over the growing bruise on my face, and I looked down myself. “Are you okay?”

With a shake of my head, my eyes falling to the space between us, I just sighed.

“I’m fine. Just a few bangs and bruises. Nothing I have dealt with before. I took care of all the cleaning while you were resting.”

I gestured down to the bandage on my knee before holding up my wrist and giving it a little wiggle.

“All good.”

Lev’s eyes darkened, that fury I was used to seeing there back in place. I’d sort of missed it, and my body warmed despite the situation.

“If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill that fucker for having ever laid a finger on you.” His eyes found the middle distance, and he snickered menacingly. “I’m tempted to just keep his body around to shoot up some more.”

I laughed, a bit disgusted but also somehow…touched. “Gross, Lev. No. But thank you.”

Meeting my eyes again, I lowered my chin, looking directly at that dark stare, and squeezed his hand between mine.

“I really mean that, you know. Thank you. You came to get me, even though Pavel could’ve…” I couldn’t get the words out; the memory still too fresh. “Well. You know.”

Lev grunted quietly as he sat up from the pillows, and I hurried to meet him halfway through the movement. He shook his head, wanting to do it himself, of course. But he did, and as he eyed me hard, Lev pulled his hand back to use both to cup my face.

“I will always come for you, little one. Always.”

Fucking crying was not what I wanted to be doing right now, and I fought against the tears. I lowered my face into Lev’s hands, and then Lev’s forehead was against my own.

“Can I…” I sucked in a shaky breath. “I’d like to stay. Here. With you.”

Lev laughed again, but it was easier this time, softer. When I looked up at him, he rubbed his thumb across my swollen lip, touching the split gently.

“I don’t know what gave you the idea that you had a choice. You’re my wife, Parker, and you’ll stay wherever I tell you to.”

Before, Lev's voice would have been filled with tension and anger when he commanded me like this. But now, it was simply a statement of fact. We both knew that the darkness would return soon, and we were both eager for it to come. This wasn't an angry demand, just a reminder of our current reality. Lev moved his thumb from my lip to the front of my throat, pressing just enough.

“You belong to me, little one. You’re mine. To fuck, to command, to corrupt.” He hovered his lips over mine. “And to love.”

My heart skipped, and I couldn’t stop the hushed sob that tore free.

---