Page 38 of Unwilling Bratva Bride

It didn’t work. There was one other unaccounted-for string of numbers that had been tattooed just beneath that one. If I was even remembering them correctly.

““Zero four, thirty, nineteen eighty-six.”

Still nothing. I sigh, about ready to give up.No, come on—one more try.

“Maybe if there’s a zero…I don’t need it.”

I started punching in the numbers—four, six, umm, three, hmm…Wait. I hesitated, but after a moment, I decided to try eliminating the duplicate numbers too.

“Four, six, three, eight, one, six.”

The electronic lock beeped, and the box clicked.

“Holy shit. That worked.”

Opening it up, I was terrified of what I might find. Strangely, however, what lay inside didn’t seem all that sinister. There was a bunch of cash, sure, and some of it was from different countries, but beyond that, there was just a little black book.

I picked it up and scanned its contents. Inside were several names, phone numbers, addresses marked as “known” or “safe house,” and several notes attached to each name. They detailed things like the next contact and last known location on some. There were even some with allergies and medical conditions listed.

And then it hit me.

This was a list of Ivan’s enemies. Anyone Ivan knew was listed in this book, with personal, private information about each one. This book would be deadly in the wrong hands. WhenI noticed the line slashed through several, I had to assume that those particular individuals weren’t a concern anymore.

My stomach clenched, and I dropped the book back into the box. Shoving everything back in the drawer and slamming it shut, I rushed out of the room and right back into the confines of Ivan’s room.

Guessing that someone worked for the mob was one thing; having proof of it was another.

My heartbeat raced higher with each step, I paced around Ivan’s room.

“What am I supposed to do? He’s a fucking killer! I…Oh my God, I need to leave. I have to—”

My phone chimed, and I looked over to where it sat on the nightstand. I rushed over. The message was from Molly.

Hey. Hope you’re okay. You didn’t say much yesterday.

Ryan and I are

Worried.

But seriously, this is huge. Can we really go? Are you sure?

Also, that guy is hot as hell. He’s your boss?

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Molly was always so interested when a hot guy came into the shop. The raging hormones of a teenager were not something I enjoyed dealing with, and I was just glad that my folks would be the ones to deal with the “birds and the bees” talk once Molly was old enough to actually start thinking about having sex.

You know, in like a year from now.

And hell, she was just so excited about going to college in a few years. I wanted her to go and experience life. I wantedRyan to be able to go. He was so incredibly self-sacrificing, and the guy deserved a break.

Being the only boy, our traditional parents always put too much on his shoulders, and I did what I could to take some of the weight as the oldest. But Dad was still convinced that Ryan was the only person who could do the heavy lifting. Hell, he was ripped because of it, and the poor guy hadn’t even kissed anyone yet.

Yeah, because adding gay to the list of things would not make Ryan’s life easier. He only came out to you last year, Adley.

A heavy sigh hit me, and I typed up a response to Molly.

Hey. Sorry. I’m fine, though. Don’t worry. But yeah, Ivan is…he’s not really a “boss” boss. He…

My fingers hesitated, but I owed my sister more than a brush-off. She told me about the guy who got handsy at her first dance. I needed to tell her about this.

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