Page 128 of The Lazarov Bratva

“You are the daughter of a Pakhan. You know I cannot promise such things,” he replies.

My heart sinks further into the despairing depths of my gut.

“But,” August continues, “I can promise that whatever happens, I will protect you. No one is getting past my defenses.”

“That’s what Kristof said,” I murmur back.

“I am not as cocky as he is.” August chuckles. “A gift of experience.”

“It’s been hours.” Two small bubbles swirl on the top of my tea. “Why hasn’t he called?”

“This is not enough.” August ducks and takes the tea from my hand, replacing it with his large glass of alcohol.

Alyona rises from her seat right next to the fire and scoffs sharply. “No! She cannot have that.”

“Why on earth not?” August’s voice booms. “The poor girl is in shock. After what she saw, tea isn’t going to cut it.”

“She’s got sensitivities that need to be taken into account,” Alyona snaps, facing down August with the boldness of a woman half her age.

Andrev takes the glass from my hands as Alyona’s argument with August grows in volume. I don’t hear a word.

Both of them know why I can’t have alcohol, but even thinking about that right now feels alien.

I’m pregnant.

With Kristof’s child, and yet he’s nowhere to be found. He went to face down my father with such determination that he would win, but that was hours ago. I fear it’s not enough, even with Ivan and Nastja by his side. My father is a cruel man, a calculating man, and it benefited him greatly in his years as Pakhan. Even if his influence is slipping, he’s not one to be trifled with.

I’m sure Kristof knows this, and yet his absence curls around my heart like steel vines.

I can’t lose him.

I can’t.

My head dips, and my hair falls forward like a curtain, hiding me from those around me. I close my eyes and silently pray to everything and anything that might be listening.

Please return him to me.

“You are a shrewd woman,” August snaps, his voice bringing me right back to reality. I lift my head.

Alyona is on her feet, prodding August in his chest, and it’s amusing to see, given their incredible height difference. Alyona is small enough and weathered enough that someone like August could swat her like a fly, yet it seems she has won their discussion.

“She is sensitive,” Alyona snaps. “Understand?”

“Okay?” August chuckles and holds up both hands in defeat. “Remind me to introduce you to my wife. You both would have a field day scolding me.”

“You’re married?” I ask.

All eyes snap to me, and a pulse of warmth shoots down my spine. I need a distraction, or else I’ll go crazy.

“Yes.” August beams. “Eighteen years my darling wife has put up with me, although to this day, I do not know how she does it.”

“How does she deal with it all?”

“Deal with what, my dear?”

“The worrying,” I say quietly. “The fear that when you walk out the door, it’ll be the last time she sees you.”

August slowly drops down to his haunches, and yet even like this, he’s taller than me sitting on the couch.

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