Page 3 of Brutal Bratva King

I set my drink down and clap, too. A slow, obligated clap.

Then I pick my drink up and sigh to myself.

“She really looks happy. Both of them do,” Radmir says, sipping his beer again.

“Yeah. I’m happy for her,” I say, void of emotion even though I mean it sincerely.

“Them being together is a good thing, man. We get the alliance, she gets a husband, our families are united.” Rad shrugs, turning his back to the party and waving the barman down so he can order another beer.

“Are you driving home with Renat?” I ask.

“Renat and Rigor,” he nods.

“Good. Enjoy your beer. I’m going to go socialize.”

He snorts, knowing I am the worst when it comes to socializing. In truth, I’m going to see if I can get Anya to talk to me without being a feisty little brat about it.

She’s stuck up and rude to all of my brothers, but more so to me. I don’t know why she seems to dislike me the most. It doesn’t stop me from wanting her.

Maybe the challenge of it makes me want her more.

I push through the crowd, taller than most of the people here, so they move out of my way quickly. My dark expression is not exactly inviting, either.

Anya and Raisa are standing together. I walk into their little circle, wrapping my arm around Raisa. “Congratulations, little sister. I’m really happy for you,” I say, hugging her against my side.

“Thank you, Rodion. You’re going to be an uncle.” She is glowing, she’s so happy. It makes my heart warm. I want good things for my siblings. All of them deserve the world.

Since we lost our parents, I had to take over the role of making sure they were all ok. Being the oldest by quite a bit, I had no choice but to become their guardian.

Anya stands quietly watching us, smiling only when Raisa speaks.

“You’re going to be the most incredible mom,” she says. “And Oleg—I’ve never seen him happier.”

Someone calls Raisa’s name, and she excuses herself from us, making her way into the crowd. Then it is just Anya and I, standing alone.

“I guess we have a little niece or nephew on the way then,” I say, realizing just how tied up our families are, and us—the reluctant in-laws watching from the sideline.

Anya smiles tightly, glancing around herself, looking for a way out of this conversation.

I watch her for a moment, then grin. “You really don’t like me, do you?” I ask, blunt and to the point.

“What gave you that idea?” she says, pulling one corner of her mouth up and narrowing her eyes towards me. She’s being sarcastic. It’s as blatant as my question.

“You might have to learn to like me,” I say, with more meaning than she will read from it.

“We don’t have enough of these family gatherings for me to have to worry about needing to like you.”

“Hmm,” I growl darkly. She needs to be taught a lesson or two about manners. I’d love to be the one to teach her. I’d bend her over and slap her ass so hard that the rich bitch little attitude will disappear in a second.

I chuckle, picturing her face and the red handprint I’d leave on her ass cheek.

“What’s so funny?” she quips.

“Just wondering what man would put up with you.”

She glares at me in horror. “Enjoy the rest of the party—Rodion,” she practically spits my name from her mouth.

That fiery temper of hers is nothing but sexy. I do enjoy pushing her buttons, even though it probably isn’t getting her to like me anymore.

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