Page 84 of Bratva Knight

“Youarepretty annoying,” Christian agreed, taking a bite of his eggs.

Lukyan slapped him upside the head. “Nobody asked you.”

“Are you sure you haven’t just misplaced it?” I asked.

Lukyan straightened and turned slightly to give me his back. “Christian, could you please inform my brother that, due to his duplicitous ways, I am no longer conversing with him. And that, although I am saddened by what was revealed, I still want to punch him in the face.”

I rolled my eyes.

Christian shrugged and faced me, opening his mouth.

“I got it,” I said, raising a hand to silence him. If that was the game he wanted to play, then fine. “Christian, could you please ask my brother if perhaps he just misplaced his dagger?”

Christian turned to Lukyan but before he could get a word out, Lukyan said, “Please tell my brother—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,youtell him,” Christian shoved him lightly in the shoulder. “I’m not your errand boy. And this is stupid.” For once, I agreed with the man.

“Wait, wasn’t your shit going missing in New York?” Luca took a sip of his coffee, brows formed into a deep frown. “Yeah, I remember you bitching about how someone stole your toothbrush or something?”

I paused mid-scoop, milk dripping from my spoon into my bowl. My gaze locked with Lukyan’s.

“No…you think?” he whispered, like he was afraid of the answer.

I was tempted to say,“thought you weren’t conversing with me,” but thought it best not to poke the whiny child.

“Could be.” Turns out, my youngest brother had himself a bit of a stalker. It all started after he moved to New York with Illayana. Someone had been leaving him little love notes, declaring they were soul mates. Destined to be together. A few of his possessions had gone missing as well. We hoped moving him back to Vegas would get him off his stalker’s radar, but clearly, they’d just followed him instead.

“No,” Lukyan denied again. “There’s no way. How the hell did she even get in the house?!”

Ifit was his stalker responsible, then she was a lot more cunning and resourceful than we originally anticipated.

It was definitely possible for someone to circumvent our security. Unlikely…but possible. The grounds were meant to be patrolled twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, in two rotating shifts, consisting of six men in each. The odds of someone making it over the fence, across the yard, past the dogs, up the side of the house and into Lukyan’s bedroom without being detected was slim.Lessthan slim. There was no way. No way.

Fuck.

“Go check the security cameras and see if they picked up anything,” I told Lukyan. I had this sneaking suspicion in my gut that no matter how slim the odds were, Lukyan’s mysterious stalker had somehow managed to do it. He nodded, stuffing the last of his toast into his mouth before getting to his feet.

“Uh, excuse me?” Illayana called out as he began to walk away.

“You’re excused,” he threw over his shoulder without looking back.

“Pretty sure you owe me an apology!”

Lukyan…apologise? I had a better chance of crapping out daisies than Illayana had of getting that shithead to apologise for anything. I finished the rest of my cereal and took my empty bowl to the sink, quickly washing it before popping it into the dashrack. Luca and Christian talked amongst themselves as they ate while Illayana played with her phone and picked lightly at her food.

Lukyan came back a few minutes later with an iPad in his hands. “Look.” He flipped the device to face me.

“What am I supposed to be looking at here?” On the screen were six individual camera feeds, all showing a different angle of the outside of the house. Some pointed out towards the gate surrounding our property. Some pointed directly at the house itself. Nothing looking suspicious or out of place.

Then I saw it. A small figure dressed in what I could only describe as a black cat burglar suit darting across the lawn. The material was skin tight. Based on the slim waist and curves, I was inclined to agree with Lukyan’s original assessment of his stalker being a woman.

She moved quickly and efficiently, taking cover when needed to avoid the soldiers on patrol. When one of the dogs—Boris, I assumed, based on the colouring—spotted her, I thought for sure she was done for. Instead of attacking her, like they’d been trained to do to any intruder, he went right up to her and let her pat his head.

That told me two things. One: he was familiar enough with her that he didn’t consider her a threat. And two: this most likely wasn’t the first time she’d done this.

Who is this woman?

After tossing Boris what looked like a cut of raw meat, she climbed up the side of the house—freehand—opened Lukyan’s window (which meant the idiot hadn’t locked it) and disappeared inside. The timestamp on the footage read 1:59 a.m. She didn’t re-emerge again until 3:17 a.m.

---