Page 11 of Claimed By the Bratva Brothers

“Oh, no, he’s been nothing but—”

“Let me guess,” I cut her off with a flat tone. “Kind? Personable?”

“What’s wrong with him being kind and personable?”

“Under normal circumstances, nothing. But my father isn’t normal. Next thing you know, he’ll invite you into his inner circle. You’ll be rubbing elbows with his Jack Bowmans and other powerful, high-caliber campaign contributors. His fellow political heads and congressmen. His state senator buddies and their Golden Retriever aides. Next thing you know, you’re working twenty-four-seven for the man, fetching his coffee and drycleaning. You keep that up until election day, and if he wins, well, you’re looking at more of that until your body gives out. If he loses, you get sacked as he cuts his losses. I’ve seen it before, Shelby. This state senate campaign is insanely ambitious.”

“Wow, you have no faith in the man whatsoever,” she replies, her brow furrowed with dismay. “I mean, I get that you two have a complicated relationship, Lyric, but I never really understood how much you despise him.”

“What? No, I don’t despise him. That’s harsh,” I say.

It’s not that far from the truth, but it’s not the angle I’m coming from, either. I wish Shelby could understand where I’m coming from. She’s been an intern for his campaign for about two months now, and I can already see that she has lost some weight and plenty of sleep. It was supposed to be an informative internship for one chapter of her doctorate thesis. That’s all. She wasn’t supposed to get in this deep nor this close to my father, and I have to admit, I’m a little worried.

He’s not a bad man, but he is an accurate example of a higher politician in the making. I wish I could have a bit more faith in him but I know how natural he is at breaking his promises. He’s also remarkably good at making them sound extremely convincing. It worked for local council seats—three times, actually—but the state senate, that’s a whole other bucket of fish.

The waiter comes back to take our orders. Shelby goes for a flimsy shrimp salad, while I decide to eradicate an entire burger and sweet potato fries, with a slice of pecan pie at the end. After yesterday’s events, I am famished. Max, Ivan, and Artur really gave me one hell of an appetite, it seems.

“Something’s different about you,” Shelby says as we dig into our plates.

“Define different,” I reply, suddenly on edge.

“I don’t know. Glowing? Yeah, you’re glowing.” She pauses and gasps. “Ah-ha! You met someone.”

I could tell her the whole story. Shelby is my best friend, after all, and despite the minor tensions surrounding my father, I know she’d keep it a secret. But I don’t think I’m ready to hear any of the warnings that would come attached to her reaction. On top of that, I did just have mind-blowing sex with the men who kidnapped Jack Bowman. This is minefield territory, and I really need to be careful with my disclosures.

“Okay, you caught me,” I giggle softly. “I met someone.”

“Tell me everything!” she says, her eyes widening with excitement.

“There’s not that much to tell just yet. We’re only just getting to know one another. But I promise, as soon as I have a clearer picture of the guy, I’ll spill all the beans.”

Or guys.

She nods slowly. “Okay. I get it. But can you at least tell me where he works?”

“He’s in the corporate world.” It’s not as if I can exactly tell her the truth. Besides, I’m not sure myself what it is they do as mobsters.

“How old is he?”

I think of Artur, the youngest of the three. I might as well make this story as believable as possible and with fewer lies to remember down the road. “Early forties,” I say.

“Oh, wow. You went straight for a silver fox, huh?” Shelby chuckles softly. “I bet he’s handsome.”

I laugh. “Yeah, he’s handsome. Hell, he’s hot. Ripped. I’m guessing he played some kind of sport in his younger days based on his stamina. He may play still. The man can go on and on and—” I pause when I see the look of shock on my best friend’s face.

“Lyric.”

“Yeah?”

Shelby lets a heavy sigh roll from her chest. “You had sex?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re just telling this now? After I had to ask? I thought we were best friends.”

“We are! But, well, we only just met. Yesterday.”

She freezes, fork in midair, staring at me. “Lyric. Are you telling me you met this guy yesterday, and you already…”

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