Page 106 of The Lazarov Bratva

Yes, he stole me away. But he saved me.

He taught me things and gave me space to learn about myself, and now he’s pampering me beyond relief.

I’m definitely falling in love with him.

It dwells on the outskirts of my mind as I sit curled up in a chair far too big for me and re-read the page of the story in front of me. Too often, I get eagerly drawn into a book and accidentally skip a paragraph. My other hand toys with the collar around my neck, tracing familiar stitching as I try to focus.

Fingers slide down the pages from above, and I glance up with a smile. Kristof stands over me, a light smile playing on his lips, and when we lock eyes, his smile widens.

“Alena.”

“Kristof.”

“What are you reading?”

“A smutty retelling of Anastasia where Rasputin gets the girl.” I slide my bookmark into place. “It’s always sexier when the bad guy gets the girl.”

“Is that what you like?” He slides onto the seat next to me, a sexy pillar of strength that sends my heart fluttering.

“Bad guys?” I prompt.

“Sure.”

“Yes. There’s something sexier about them, I think,” I tease softly. “Bad guys have a distinct way of making you more important than the world.”

“You’re not waiting for some prince to come and rescue you?” Kristof leans close, his breath ghosting over my cheek, then he presses a lingering kiss to my temple.

“I don’t want a prince.” I chuckle. “I want the tyrant.”

“Well, aren’t you just a little fucked up.”

“I wonder why.” His mouth swallows my chuckle as his lips seal over mine, kissing me deeply. My heart skips a beat, and I seek an anchoring grip on his shirt. The fabric twists between my fingertips as I pull him closer, and he grunts softly.

I snatch another brief kiss when he pulls away, running my thumb over his short, well-kept facial hair.

“You look stressed.”

“Life is stressful.”

“Can I help?”

“You already do.” Kristof’s eyes flick over me, and he licks his lower lip.

“No, I mean really help. I can be of use, y’know. If you’d just talk to me. Let me know what’s going on.”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he insists. Then he drops a long, sleek blue box into my lap and smirks lightly. “Open it.”

“Kristof, what is this?” Setting my book aside, I excitedly open the box and my heart stops.

Inside is an absolutely stunning diamond necklace that glitters like a thousand stars in the light of the nearby fireplace. The diamond surrounds all sorts of blue and red gemstones that sit inside the necklace, and a matching pair of studded earrings sits just beneath the clasp.

“Oh, my God,” I gasp breathlessly. “Kristof, this—this is absolutely beautiful.”

“Only the best for my girl,” he says. He kisses the top of my head, then his hands move to the back of my neck. “This is your new collar.”

“A new collar?”

“Yes.”

---