Page 99 of Bratva Knight

“Good. You’re here.”

I frowned.What the fuck is going on?

All of the bags were sitting on the bench when I rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen. Ten in total.

“You got here quick,” Nikolai commented as he plucked several hundred dollar bills from his wallet.

“With what you paid, it was pretty much guaranteed.”

Nikolai grunted, “For your efficiency.” He handed the men three bills each.

They fell over themselves in gratitude. “Thank you, Mr Volkov! Thank you! If you ever need anything else, we’re your guys!”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

After the men left, he began unpacking the bags.

“Really, Nikolai?” I placed my hands on my hips. “You bought groceries?”

“Don’t act all surprised. We both know you’re not.”

“When did you even—” then I remembered he’d been playing around on his phone shortly after discovering I had shit all in my fridge. “Oh, you’re sneaky.”

I was going to tell him off for it, but honestly, what would be the point? Nikolai was the type who, if we were both dying of thirst in the desert, he’d force the last of the water down my throat instead of sharing it. Anything I said would go in one ear and out the other.

“You need to stop doing shit for me,” I said anyway, moving to help put the food away.

“I’d rather die,” he said with complete seriousness.

I rolled my eyes. “Kind of dramatic, but okay.”

Once we were finished, he used the cooking equipment he’d taken out earlier to begin making breakfast. Which was fine with me, because I couldn’t cook to save my life.

“Cheese and tomato omelette still your favourite?” he asked, cracking some eggs.

“Mm-hmm,” I answered idly, focusing on my sketchpad. I’d gone and grabbed it when he started cooking. I was determined to finish the design I’d thought of as quickly as I could so it could be made in time.

“What are you working on so hard over there?” He poured the eggs into a sizzling hot frying pan.

“I’m designing you a suit.”

“A suit?” he frowned. “Why?”

“For our wedding.”

“What?!” he dropped the bowl in his hands in shock. When I started laughing, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re cruel.”

“I am.” I gave him a big smile. “But that’s why you love me.”

He shook his head and chuckled, bending down to pick up the bowl. “It is. One of them, anyway.”

I winked. “All kidding aside, I’m designing you something I hope will help keep you safe on this suicide mission of yours.”

“I’m intrigued.” He diced up some onions, chives and tomatoes, throwing them into the pan.

“I don’t know if it’s possible yet, but I want to try and make you an outfit completely made out of Kevlar. That way, if something goes wrong, it might buy you enough time to make a run for it and hold out until I can come and save your ass.”

When he didn’t say anything, I glanced up from my sketchpad, pencil frozen in the air. He looked at me with a mixture of surprise and affection, eyes slightly wide. “As much as I appreciate the gesture, Tati, I don’t think I’ll be able to wear it. I’ll most likely be given a uniform of some sort.”

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