Page 45 of Claimed By Desire

Alexander

Early the next morning, I drive over to the Federov house. I texted Lev last night to let him know I’d be stopping by to get Natalya’s stuff, hoping that would at least slightly smooth things over. He never responded, and I’m not sure what to expect.

I head in through the front door using my key and am confronted by boxes of her things.

It looks like Lev packed everything. Not only her clothes, but all her personal effects too. Laptops, old wallets, crumpled dollar bills, pens and pencils, headphones, stacks of random junk. Her entire life packed away.

The place is deeply quiet. I head to the kitchen and listen at the basement door. Someone’s down there working at the exercise machines, and I take the steps slowly but loudly. I find Lev at the bench press going through his reps, and I stand there watching until he finishes.

“I hoped you’d just take her shit and go,” he says, glaring up at me.

“I figured you’d be awake.”

“Great. Good guess. What do you want?”

“I talked with Valentin yesterday after you left?”

“Yeah, I fucking know.” He racks more weight and goes in for another set. It’s too much and he’s straining, but I can tell he’s pissed and working it out on the machines instead of punching me in the face. I appreciate that.

“He’s got me taking care of the Italians. I’m going to need help.”

Lev lets out a hissing breath. I hurry over to spot him, but he shoves the weight up onto the bar with a roar and pushes me away. I step back and give him some space as he sits forward, elbows on his knees, catching his breath.

“You think that’s it?” he asks, not looking at me. “Just like that, we can move on?”

“I think I did a bad thing for a good reason. You were right yesterday. I’m not perfect. I never have been. But I work my ass off to do the right thing, even when it fucking hurts, and trust me, this fucking hurts.”

“Fucking my sister was the right thing?”

“No,” I say and look down at my hands. But was itwrong? I can hear her music, I can see her playing. I hear her moans echo through my body. “But stepping up and marrying her was.”

“It must be nice to be you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

He stalks away over to a water bottle in the corner of the room. “You’re so convinced you have all the answers, and when youfuck up, you get to fall back behind all the old excuses. Oh, poor me, I’m Alexander, I was raised by a couple of abusive assholes that more or less ignored me when they weren’t hitting me, and that somehow makes me morally superior to everyone else.”

I grimace and look away. I don’t talk about my past often, and definitely not to Lev, but I guess word’s gotten around.

He’s right though. I grew up in a very bad household, which is why becoming Step’s friend saved my life. If not for him and the purpose the Bratva gave me, I would’ve ended up like my dad, an alcoholic gambling addict, dead from a drink driving accident when I was twelve, or like my mother, strung out on pills until she switched to heroin and finally overdosed alone in some shitty parking garage in Baltimore when I was nineteen.

I would’ve been all on my own after that. Except Step took me in and Oleg practically raised me like one of his boys, and now I’m doing this to them.

“I don’t think I have all the answers,” I say and look back up at him. “All I know is, I got your sister pregnant, and I couldn’t abandon her to marry a stranger. I couldn’t let her raise my child with a man I don’t even know. I have to be there for my kid, Lev. I have to do the right thing.”

Lev’s lips pull back and he storms over to me. His face is red from exertion and anger and he throws his water bottle onto the floor. “That’s the thing though. You didn’t have to do anything, but you did it anyway. You always wanted Natalya, and now you fucking got her.”

I take a step back as he shoves a finger in my face. “That isn’t true.”

“Fuck you, yes it is. You two bickered like god damn wild cats. The tension between you was off the fucking charts. Even Step mentioned it. You clearly wanted Natalya, but you were too loyal to ever do anything about it. At least until now.”

I stare at him, trying to make sense of this. He’s totally wrong about that—I’ve always hated Natalya. I’ve gone out of my way toavoiddealing with her.

She’s a spoiled-rotten Bratva princess, the total opposite of everything I’ve wanted. I need a strong woman, one with a spine, one that can stand up to anyone and knows the value of hard work.

That’s not Natalya.

She’s soft and sweet. She plays piano, reads in multiple languages, was handed everything on a silver platter, and never worked a day in her life.

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