Page 87 of Claimed By the Bratva Brothers

“You’re not wrong,” I reply with a smile.

He nods slowly. “I must admit, I’ve been following their story closely since the whole FBI debacle. What a mess that was.”

“Indeed, it was.”

I still have nightmares about it, but I sleep wrapped in the arms of three incredible men. Men whose dark sides are always ready to crush those who intend to do us harm. It doesn’t get any better than this for me, and I don’t want it to.

I live in two different worlds and I love it. I have an odd sense of peace now. It didn’t end well for most of the people involved—my father included—but I survived and found happiness. Justice prevailed.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” says Professor Raskolnikov, a macro-economy specialist and Russian defector.

“It shouldn’t have any bearing on my performance here today,” I reply with a soft smile. “I refuse to let any of that define me as a doctor and a scholar in my field, Professor.”

“Nor will it, despite the interesting choice of subject for your thesis,” Raskolnikov says. “I do, however, appreciate your dissertation, more than you might ever understand. You basically took the very concept of oligarchy and demolished it.”

“While simultaneously crushing capitalism as well,” Johnson adds. “Well done, Miss Phelps.” He pauses and looks at his colleagues. “What do you say, ladies and gentlemen? Has Miss Phelps raised herself to the standards of a doctorate, today? Is she ready to advance her academic career and perhaps even join our research team?”

The minute that follows feels like the longest in my life.

I hold my breath, my body quivering. I’m getting closer to my due date. I’ll be a mother soon. The thought both terrifies and exhilarates me at the same time. Everything is happening at once, and not a day goes by that I don’t thank the stars for putting me in the company of Max, Ivan, and Artur.

Whatever the board decides, I know I’ll be happy.

The Sokolov mansion is peaceful now. The tabloids have dubbed it the “Fort Knox of Chicago” and for good reason. It is constantly guarded by an elite team of security experts, all former military and SEAL operatives. Rough men with hard, sharp eyes and inscrutable instincts.

The FBI has stepped away from most of its investigations into the Bratva while they clean house—and boy, do they have a mess on their hands. It has allowed us to breathe again and relax.

I pull into the driveway and get out of my car. Olya, one of the guards, greets me and offers to park it in the garage. More than once, he has noticed me struggling and has made it his personal task.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Phelps. You’re a genius in other aspects of life. Any monkey can park a car, but not anyone can do what you do with numbers,” Olya chuckles as he gets behind the wheel, noticing my blushed cheeks.

“You’re too kind,” I giggle and go inside.

“There she is!” Max exclaims as he comes out of the kitchen to greet me. “How’d it go?”

Ivan and Artur join us in the hallway, all three greeting me with broad, sparkling smiles and big, round eyes. It melts my heart to see them like this. There’s nothing I love more than to come home to them. Nothing.

I hold up my degree, which I stopped to have professionally framed on the way back. “Got it.”

“Congratulations, baby!” Max exclaims and lovingly wraps his arms around my generous waist. “I knew you’d get it.”

Artur snatches the degree away and squints at it. “Turning the Mafia Legit. I can’t believe you went ahead with that title. I suggested it as a joke.”

“It’s a catchy joke and it worked,” I laugh.

Ivan rests a hand on the small of my back and smothers me with quick, soft kisses. “I’m proud of you, Lyric. So damn proud.”

“Thank you, babe,” I mumble and kiss him back.

“Hold on, I want some of that,” Artur chuckles as he sets the degree aside and rushes in, capturing my mouth in a long, ardent kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve only been gone a few hours.”

“I always miss you when you’re gone,” he says. “No matter how long or short of a time.”

Max runs his fingers through my long hair, pulling my head back gently so he can plant wet kisses along the side of my neck. “Oh, wow,” I gasp as Ivan’s fingers get to work on unbuttoning my shirt. At the same time, I hear Artur’s belt unbuckling.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Max whispers and licks my lower lip.

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