Page 76 of Little Blue

“Yes,” I confirm.

She releases a shuddering breath. “And your dad is a part of it.”

“He was the bratva.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“He was the Pakhan for a very long time. Before him, my grandfather was Pakhan.”

“T-the—I don’t know what that word means.”

“My father was the head of the bratva, Irelynn.”

Now, it’s her entire body that shudders. I tighten my hold. “That makes you—some kind of—what?” She giggles, but it’s unhinged. “A mafia prince?”

I chuckle. She’s so freshly, innocently adorable. “You could say that.” I grow quiet, contemplating the truth, the whole truth, or easier to swallow versions for now. I decide to go with the truth. “My father was a very successful man both within the criminal world, and outside that world. As you know, he had three sons. My older brother Kirill, myself, and my younger brother, Kane. You know what Kane does for a living.” I huff. “I’m pretty sure the entire world knows what Kane does for a living. Kirill heads Volk Vault Bank and I—” I pause when she twists in my lap to look at me. “I am now the Pakhan.”

Her puffy pink lips, lips I think near constantly about kissing, part. I see the moment she absorbs the meaning of my words, her blue eyes widening with alarm. “Y—you. You’re the—that means—you’re not a prince. You’re a?—”

I lift a wry brow, because I know where she’s heading. I tease darkly, “I think the word you’re looking for is king.”

Her eyes flit quickly back and forth between mine. The color drains from her face, even her freckles pale with her shock. She whispers, “You’re the head of the Bratva?”

I nod. “I am.”

I see the moment she realizes she’s being held by a true devil. A crime boss. A monster, as she’s so accurately called me.

She’s naked, wrapped in a blanket in my arms, horrified.

“Ilya.” The sound of my name on her lips is a decadency I’ll never tire from. “I need you to let me go.”

“No.”

“I need space.”

“Why?”

She huffs an exasperated sound. “To think.”

“There is nothing to think about. Thinking will do nothing but cause you undue stress regarding a situation you have no power to change. I am a crime boss, and you are mine.”

“It’s—” She’s breathing fast again. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is.”

She lifts her hands to cover her face, shaking her head. I continue to hold her, determined to be a pillar of strength as her foundation begins to crumble.

It takes her a moment, but she gets control over her breathing. Then she looks at me over one shoulder.

Fuck, but she’s lovely. “Your father took your mother like you took me?”

“Yes.”

“Is it—is that like some family tradition or something?”

A smile quirks my lips. “No.”

Her brows dip. She looks adorably frustrated. “I don’t understand any of this.”

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