Page 58 of Used By the Bratva

She steps away from me as the last people leave our row, making a clear path for us. “Marina used to talk about the day we would go and see them. I don’t think that she thought we would ever get to go, but she still liked to plan an entire trip for us.”

“I’ll book tickets for you and Marina if you want me to.” I keep a hand on the small of her back as we move through the crowds to find our car outside.

Natalie stops dead in her tracks, looking at me. “Are you serious? Leon, that’s too much. You don’t have to spend that kind of money on me.”

“I have more money than I'll ever need. If I can do anything to make your dreams come true, I will. Whatever the cost.”

The words come spilling from my lips before I have the chance to stop them.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve given a lot of thought to what I’m willing to do for Natalie, and it all boils down to one word:

Everything.

Chapter 22 - Natalie

Swapping my dress for a pair of loose linen shorts and a camisole is a welcome relief.

Although it’s fun to get dressed up every now and then, it’s even better to strip down and crawl into bed at the end of a perfect night.

Leon is out on the terrace, the doors closed behind him as he paces up and down, talking on his cell phone. He is still wearing his tux, but his jacket is open, and his tie is undone and hangs loosely around his neck. The top three buttons of his shirt are open, revealing a bit of his fine chest hair.

Desire pools between my legs as I watch my insanely handsome husband, but there’s been something nagging at the back of my mind since tonight’s performance.

When he said he did some ‘investigating,’ he quickly led me off-topic. Something about it didn’t sit right with me.

Once again, it was the wrong time to push him to tell me more about my family, but I have a feeling there's more about the past than he's willing to say.

I bite the inside of my cheek and look back and forth between the door and the bedside table.

The other night, when Leon thought I was asleep, he had taken a small photo album from his bedside table and gone out onto the terrace. He stayed outside for hours with a bottle of beer, flicking through the pages until the sun came up.

I should have asked him about it right away, but something in his body language told me it would be a better idea to stay away. He seemed to need the moment to himself.

He knows more about my life than I do, and I know so little about him. What has made him the man he is today?

I take a deep breath and glance at the door before sitting down on his side of the bed.

As I open the drawer, my heart races. This is wrong. I should just talk to him, but part of me still doesn’t quite trust him. I want to find out for myself.

Our relationship is based on a terrible event in the past. He took everything from me when I was little, and now, it seems, he wants to give me everything and more. Is guilt the reason he is so possessive and protective of me?

And the strange thing is that I really liked him and succumbed to his charms the night he became my ‘hero,’ but we were destined to find out about our past. This was never a one-night fuck, even though I thought it was.

It is time to peel back the layers to the core and find the truth.

I take out the small photo album and turn to the first page. It’s an old photo, torn at the edges and creased. Three little boys are sitting together, staring at the camera with big grins. All three look so much alike, from the shape of their faces to the clothes they’re wearing.

One of them is Sergey. I recognize him by the expression on his face. The same stern look he gave me when we spoke at the wedding.

The other is Leon. The shape of his mouth and his full lips were the same then as they are now.

It’s the third boy in the picture that I don’t recognize.

I leaf through the book and try to find more pictures of Leon, but there are only pictures of adults I don’t recognize. I assume relatives no longer alive.

Sighing, I flip back to the first page and hold the album closer to my face to get a good look at the third little boy.

There is a third brother.

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