Page 114 of Stolen By The Bratva King

He kisses me deeply, his tongue delving into my mouth.

“This week has been a living Hell,” he murmurs. “Kevlar or not, getting shothurts, but it was nothing compared to losing you.”

He breaks away so he can look at my face. “I remember now—how did you get out of my apartment?”

I tell him. His face moves from confusion to amusement, and although he tries to suppress it, he breaks into a belly laugh.

“Ow, fuck!” He grabs his chest, still laughing. “I’mcool? I’d never have thought of something like that. I’ve got my hands full with you, haven’t I?”

“I hope so.”

“A badass, huh? Takes one to know one.” Leon pulls my mouth to his. “Just you wait,moya zhena. I’ll show you how alive I am.”

60

Three days later…

Emery

My family home is like a circus. Ostensibly, it’s a kind of bratva field hospital, but the care is unorthodox, and the patients are…well, let’s just say everyone’s doing well.

Leon has a bruise the size of a dinner plate and a rickety rib or two, but you’d never be able to tell. A good night’s sleep and some Tylenol saw him right; I’ve needed more intervention for migraine than he did for getting shot.

He was up and about the morning after the fracas, frying bacon and eggs and making endless strong coffee for everyone.

I called Jess as soon as it was light that morning to apologize for dragging her into the mess, but she was just glad I was alright. She said she’d come by soon, but she’s happy in the sticks for now; the hospital doesn’t want her back.

Makes two of us. Debra from staffing left me three voice messages during the week I was AWOL, and in the fourth one, she told me in no uncertain terms that I was fired.

I was surprised at how little I cared; it was time to put my skills to work on my own terms.

Leon never told my father I was missing, and Demyan made up some tale about Leon and I taking a last-minute honeymoon, so when we showed up that night, Dad was astonished.

He called Leon a few choice names until he realized what went down; then, the fight went out of him, and he got out of his hospital bed so Leon could lie in it awhile. Demyan and Leon made a lot of calls, and people came and went, bringing new beds and equipment until we were set.

I keep forgetting I don’t need to be in work mode. After a shower, a meal, and some rest, I was fine, so it’s strange not to be the one doing the caretaking.

The good Dr. Brodsky checks in with me regularly, asking for advice, which is sweet of him as I know he’s only doing it to make me feel useful.

Desi spent two days in bed on an antibiotic drip. His cough eased up after the first twenty-four hours, and by the time he’d finished the course of drugs, his eyes were brighter than I’d ever seen them.

He turned his nose up at Leon’s hot breakfast offerings, but he’s gaga for Lucky Charms cereal, so when they ran out, Leon ordered a shipment and had it delivered to the house.

That kid has reliance for days—his personality has floated to the surface, and he’s a chaotic little gremlin, much to everyone’s delight.

Leon is in Manhattan today to talk to thekomissiyaand explain what happened with Dante and Reggiani.

The whole thing makes me nervous—apparently, the bratva old guard can be a tough crowd—so I’m distracting myself by sitting in the armchair in Dad’s study, watching him and Desi play cards.

Desi’s arrival lit a fire under my father, and he was suddenly desperate to be up and about, giving him attention. In a way, I think my father is trying to apologize to me by being kind to him, and that’s the best reparation I could ask for.

Desi has been through enough, and it warms my heart to see him throw his gappy little smile at Dad.

Desi has several cushions beneath him, but he can still barely see over the desk. There are cards in his hand and a stack on the table. Opposite him, my dad is frowning, and between them is the coveted prize; a stack of Lucky Charm mallows.

“I’m sure I was teaching him at one point, but he’s flipped the switch on me,” Dad says. “I wanted to teach him something simple, so we’re playing a Slapjack variation where we use all the picture cards to speed it up. But he keeps winning, and every time he gets to pick up the deck, he takes five mallows.”

I give Desi a look, and he giggles mischievously. Then the door opens, and Desi leaps to his feet.

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