Page 67 of Bratva Knight

I snapped my eyes open.Of course. God, I could be such a ditz sometimes. The whole reason I was there was to help her through today, not lie on my ass all day.

Every year on their mother’s birthday, the Volkovs gathered together to watch all of Yekaterina’s favourite movies while eating all her favourite snacks.

Illayana had only been eleven when her mother was taken from her. Just a little kid. Because her father had run off to exact revenge on the people responsible, it left Aleksandr and Nikoali to take care of her. They’d come up with this family tradition to honor the day their mother came into the world, and they’d done it every year since her death.

“Okay, okay. I’m getting up.” I yawned, stretching out my body before kicking my legs over the side of the bed and getting to my feet. “When do we leave?”

“In ten minutes.” She put a few items into a black handbag: some lipstick, her phone, a couple of daggers and a Glock 19 handgun. The girl never went anywhere unarmed.

“Are you out of your mind?” I shrieked. “In what universe do you think I can get ready in ten bloody minutes? I needat leastan hour. Minimum.”

“We’re literally just going to the grocery store,” Illayana said, shaking her head in amusement. “You can just go as you are. Maybe fix your hair up though. It looks like a bird's nest.”

I narrowed my eyes, patting my hair down. “Ass.” Several huge bouquets of flowers caught my eye. I arched a brow. “You buy out a florist or something while I was away?”

Her lips curved, a look of love and adoration shining in her bright blue eyes. “They’re from Arturo. For today.”

“Aww, he’s such a sweetie-pie,” I gushed.

Illayana snorted. “Hurry up and get ready. I want to go.”

“As Her Highness commands.” I slipped into her ensuite and winced at my reflection in the mirror. “Oh, dear God.” She was going insane if she thought I was going to go out looking like this. Stripping off my clothes, I jumped straight into the shower, letting the water temperature get to an almost scolding hot before stepping under it. There wasnothingbetter than a burning hot shower. The bathroom instantly filled up with steam. I hummed to myself as I washed my hair and cleaned my body, completely unfazed when Illayana opened the bathroom door.

“So, Arturo tells me you found tracking devices on our soldiers’ cars?” She moved to the mirror and wiped it down so she could see her reflection, touching up her hair.

“Ididn’t. Your men did. I just told them where to look.”

“I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me to look for trackers,” she dejected, her shoulders slumping.

“You’re too hard on yourself. Adjusting from the Bratva to La Cosa Nostra would have been a bitch. Especially when you take into account the drastic differences in our lifestyles. Dealing with all of that would have driven me mad, I can tell you that. I don’t think my brain would have worked properly, trying to figure out what was going on in those circumstances.”

She grumbled, folding her arms across her chest. “I still should have caught it. Or at least considered the possibility.”

My best friend had changed a lot since becoming Mrs Don. She used to be wild. Carefree. Chaotic. She’d tear through a place like a tornado with little care of the damage she caused, the only desire running through her mind being to have fun.

Now she was pensive, full of seriousness and determination. There was almost this mature air surrounding her, like she’d somehow managed to age years in just these last few weeks.

She was hell-bent on doing a good job. On proving herself to the men in the Cosa Nostra and showing them she was so much more than a pretty face. That she deserved to be at Arturo’s side.

“I’ll tell you what I told Arturo. Sometimes, all it takes to figure something out is a fresh set of eyes.” I turned off the shower and stepped out, making sure to face her head on so she didn’t get a glimpse of the ‘N’ tattooed on my ass. Illayana held up a towel and I took it, wrapping it around my body. “He tell you about the trap he’s setting up for Franco and his men?”

“Yes.” She handed me a second towel for my hair. “A week seems like a long time to wait for it, though.”

“Look at it logically. The last five distribution houses Arturo has set up have been raided and burned to the ground. It would make sense that Arturo takes precautions before setting up another one. If he just jumped straight into it, Franco might get suspicious and pull back. He’s smart enough to realise that eventually his luck will run out and you guys will catch on to what he’s been doing.”

“True. I told him I’d come back for it.”

“What about your father?”

She blew out a tired breath, guilt flashing in her eyes. “There’s nothing else I can do here. We have no leads. Nothing. With all our resources and all our contacts, I thought by now we would havesomething. A hint, a whisper—fucking anything. But it’s like he's just dropped off the face of Earth. Like he’s—”

“Don’t say dead!” I cut in, my voice muffled by the towel over my face. I flicked my hair back and squeezed the still-wet strands with the towel. “He’s not dead, Illayana. He’s not. I’msureof it. A man like Dimitri doesn’t get killed quietly. He’s the big, bad Bratva Butcher. A death like his would be made into a huge spectacle. Your uncle wouldn’t be able to help himself, in that regard. He would want to make sure your father not only suffered but that everyone knewhewas the one responsible for it. That he’d finally managed to beat him.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better? Because if you are, you’re doing a shit job of it,” she grumbled.

“My words might be harsh but they have truth to them.” I threw the towels into the laundry basket and began to dress. “Your father is alive. Just focus on that for now and don’t think about anything else. Don’t let your fear and worry consume you. Be strong for him.”

Illayana huffed. “I’ll try.”

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