Page 29 of Claimed By the Bratva Brothers

Yuri nods once, still nudging me along. “Something like that, yes.”

“In that case, thank you for making sure I got out of there safe.”

“You are welcome.” He pauses for a moment as we reach my car. I have plenty more questions for him, but I’m fairly sure he’s not going answer any of them. “You should stay away from the Sokolov’s.”

I give him a curious look. “Why? I have nothing to do with my father’s campaign.”

“You’re putting them in danger.”

“How so?”

“They let Bowman go because of you,” Yuri replies, and only now do I hear the resentment in his voice. It sends shivers down my spine. “If anyone learns of your relationship with them, Miss Phelps, you won’t be the only one in trouble. There’s a lot of filth in this city, and I don’t mean just in the mob families. It’s also in the heart of the law enforcement system. Do yourself a favor and stay away. Move on with your life. And let them move on with theirs.”

“Thank you for the insight,” I mumble, giving him a gracious nod before getting in my car.

I take off like there’s a tsunami coming after me.

I catch a glimpse of Yuri in my rearview mirror before I turn left and melt into the thickening evening traffic. My nerves are stretched thin. I’m jealous and afraid. I’m confused and constantly aroused. It can’t be healthy.

Maybe Yuri is right.

Maybe I should keep my distance.

9

Artur

We join Polina in one of our private studies on the ground floor, careful to lock the door behind us. The last thing we need is other folks barging into our conversation. It’s already tense and awkward as fuck, especially since I could tell that Lyric wasn’t too happy about Polina’s interference or her presence as a whole.

Lyric is an intelligent and highly observant woman.

I know she saw it—the invisible thread that was once between Max, Ivan, Polina, and me. The thread we cut once we realized how she was playing us, using us, so she could marry Max and place herself as a stakeholder in the Sokolov Corporation. The betrayal I felt then still stings harshly to this day, though I’m sure none of us loathe her more than Ivan.

“You look good,” Max tells Polina, though it’s not meant to be a compliment. More of a stale pleasantry, at best. “How’ve you been?”

“Missing you for the most part,” she says, leaning against his desk.

He takes his seat, while Ivan and I linger by the bookcase to his left, keeping a reasonable distance from a woman who damn near tore us apart a couple of years ago.

“It’s been two years. You need to get over it,” I bluntly reply.

Max gives me a warning look. I know we’re supposed to play nice, but I find it hard to pretend with this snake. “Polina, here’s the thing. We all know how things ended between us, and I do not wish to revisit the past,” Max says. “I’m focusing on the future here. Not only for myself and my family, but for the future of the entire Bratva.”

“I’m just teasing,” she laughs lightly, seeing that we’re not playing her game.

“It’s a piss-poor joke,” I cut her off. “Considering how we parted.”

Her posture changes immediately. “I don’t need the reminder,” she bitterly replies, hurt lingering in her cold, blue eyes. “I regret it all. It was such a feat of miscommunication, a terrible misunderstanding.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Max reiterates.

Ivan pours himself a drink. “We need allies. The Feds are coming for all of us. We need your father to get on board with our strategy for the entire organization. For that, we need to buy White Plains from him, along with a few other properties. He will be paid handsomely, well above the current market price.”

“You’re joking,” Polina chuckles dryly. “My father would rather gouge his own eyes out than deal with the Sokolov’s.”

“And whose fault is that?” I ask.

She lowers her gaze for a moment. “Like I said, it was a huge misunderstanding.”

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