Page 21 of Bratva Knight

“I know you better than anyone else in the world,” he fired back instantly, ignoring my attempt to get a rise out of him and shift the conversation. I called him Nicky to piss him off, to distract him whenever I was feeling vulnerable. He wasn’t falling for it this time, though. “I know you hate the colour orange because you think it washes you out. I know you prefer Dean over Sam Winchester. That you can’t stand the smell of cinnamon but love cinnamon donuts, that Twinkies are your favourite sweets, and I know that you’ve been pacing up and down your front porch since the moment we got on the phone.”

I came to an abrupt halt, frowning suspiciously. “How do you know I’ve been pacing?”

“Like I said, I know you.”

Uh-huh, right.

I glanced up at the security camera hanging up high on the outside of my house. “You’re watching me, aren’t you?”

He hesitated briefly before answering. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see for myself that you were okay.”

Shaking my head, I raised my hand into the air, extending my middle finger and smiling wide.

I wasn’t overly surprised he’d hacked into our security system. He’d done shit like that before; using cameras and shit to track where I was going, who I was seeing, what I was doing. At first, I was outraged. I felt like it was a huge invasion of my privacy. But now? I was honestly so used to it, it didn’t even bother me anymore. It just rolled right off my shoulders. Nothing Nikolai did really surprised me anymore.

“Oh, Tati,” he breathed, a hint of excitement in his voice. “Have you forgotten already what happened the last time you did that to me?”

I sucked in a breath, the memory of that day smacking me in the face so hard that I felt lightheaded.

“Anybody ever told you you look exactly like Blake Lively, only hotter?”

I rolled my eyes. The Cosa Nostra man I was walking beside—Giovanni? No, Matteo? No. Ah, fuck. Whatever his name was didn’t matter—was laying it on so thick, there was no way anything was going to happen between us.

When I’d first seen him, clapping and cheering as we all screamed “surprise” for Arturo at his surprise thirtieth birthday party, I’d entertained the idea of hooking up with him.

He was my type to a tee: big, tall, a little gloomy. He reminded me of Nikolai. I think that was what I was attracted to, if I was being honest with myself.

We chatted a little bit, flirting with each other, and when he asked if I wanted to go somewhere for a little “privacy”, I was keen—emphasis on thewas. When I was alone with him, I realised it wasn’t what I wanted. That I was using him to fill a void for someone else.

I hadn’t been physical with anyone else since Nikolai. Every time I’d tried, I couldn’t go through with it. I felt like I was being unfaithful, which was stupid. We weren’t together. Hadn’t been for a long time.

Enzo (again, not sure on the name) reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers as he brought us to a stop around the side of the house. The contact felt…wrong.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, stepping closer. He pulled me towards him, bringing our bodies within inches of each other.

“I’ve been wondering if your lips feel as soft as they look.” He lowered his head, his mouth inching closer and closer to mine.

I placed my hands on his chest, pushing back. “Wait—”

“Tatiana!” A deep voice cut through the air, a voice I’d recognise anywhere.

I glanced over Eduardo’s shoulder, my eyes widening.

Oh, shit.

Nikolai charged towards us like a man on a mission, his hands squeezed into fists, muscles bulging. His jaw was clenched, a dark, primal anger radiating from him. I’d seen that look on his face before, right before he strangled someone to death for slapping my ass.

“Who’s that?” What’s-His-Face asked, frowning at the big, hulking man stomping our way, his body still dangerously close to mine.

I stepped away from him, my back hitting the brick wall behind me. “I’d run if I were you.”

He scoffed, looking offended. “Run? From him?” He hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m not scared of some two-bit thug whose arms are bigger than his brains—”

Nikolai grabbed a fistful of Elias' hair and smashed his face into the wall. The idiot I warned to run cried out in pain, the crack of his nose breaking echoing in the air.

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