Page 3 of Accidental Bratva Daddy

Just as we reach the door, a commotion erupts from across the room. I turn to see my father, his face ashen, engaged in a heated conversation with a man I don't recognize. Their voices are too low to make out the words, but the tension is palpable even from here.

I hesitate, torn between investigating and following Luka out into the night. As if sensing my indecision, Luka places a hand on the small of my back, his touch electric even through the fabric of my dress.

"Come," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "Whatever's happening, I promise you'll want to be far away when it all goes down."

His words send a chill down my spine. What does he know? But before I can ask, he's guiding me out the door and into the warm Moscow night.

As we step into a waiting car, sleek and black with tinted windows, I can't shake the feeling that I'm making a terrible mistake. And yet, as Luka's hand finds mine in the darkness, I realize I don't care.

Whatever consequences await, they're a problem for tomorrow's Natalia. Tonight, I'm going to lose myself in the arms of this dangerously appealing stranger and worry about the fallout in the morning.

If only I knew just how high a price I'd pay for this one night of reckless abandon.

2

Luka

The elevator ascends smoothly, each floor bringing me closer to Natalia's presidential suite. My heart rate quickens, a sensation I'm entirely unaccustomed to. I'm Luka Volkov, feared leader of the Volkov Syndicate. I don't get nervous over women.

And yet, as the doors slide open with a soft chime, I find myself smoothing down my already immaculate suit. No woman has ever made me feel this way, as though she’s consuming my every waking thought in the moments between seeing her.

Natalia answers my knock almost immediately, as if she's been waiting just on the other side of the door. The sight of her steals my breath away. She's changed out of her gown into a silk robe that clings to her curves, her auburn hair tumbling freely around her shoulders. Without the mask of makeup and high fashion, she looks softer, more vulnerable.

It stirs something protective in me, a feeling I quickly try to squash. The only person I need to watch out for is myself. The world gets colder every year, and my circle grows smaller. Even a little ray of sunshine like Natalia isn’t enough to warm the ground I tread on.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show," Natalia says, a teasing lilt to her voice as she steps back to let me in.

I smirk, falling easily into our flirtatious banter. "And miss the chance to see the infamous Natalia Orlova in her natural habitat? Never."

Her eyes narrow playfully. "Infamous, am I?"

"Oh, absolutely," I say, following her into the opulent living area. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of Moscow's glittering skyline. "Your designs are the talk of the town. And that little display at the party? I'd say that cements your status as the most interesting woman in this city.”

A faint blush colors her cheeks, but she lifts her chin defiantly. "Those women had it coming. I won't apologize for standing up for my family."

There it is again, that fierce loyalty, that spark of fire that drew me to her in the first place. It's intoxicating... and dangerous. I need to remember why I'm really here.

"I wouldn't expect you to," I say, watching as she moves gracefully towards the minibar. "Family is everything, after all. They come first. Always.”

Natalia glances over her shoulder, her green eyes searching my face. "You say that like you speak from experience."

I shrug, careful to keep my expression neutral. "Let's just say I understand the importance of protecting what's yours."

She hums thoughtfully, turning back to the array of crystal decanters. "Drink?"

"Please."

I settle onto the plush sofa, admiring the way Natalia moves with easy confidence in this luxurious space. She belongs here, among the finer things in life. A traitorous voice in my head whispers that she'd fit just as well in my world, ruling by my side, draped in jewels and power. A Queen for all to see on my arm, loyal and fierce and brave.

I shake off the thought.Focus, Volkov. You have a job to do.

Natalia returns with two glasses of amber liquid. As she hands me mine, our fingers brush. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through me, and judging by the way Natalia's breath catches, she feels it too.

"So, Mr. Volkov," she says, settling beside me on the couch. Close, but not quite touching. The space between us fairly crackles with tension. "What brings a man like you to a fashion show afterparty?"

I take a sip of my drink. It’s an excellent whiskey, smooth and rich. "Business, primarily,” I say as I savor the taste. “Though I have to say, the company has been an unexpected pleasure."

Natalia's lips curve into a coy smile. "Just unexpected? Not delightful? Captivating? Life-changing?”

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