Page 14 of Plus-Size Bratva Bride

"What?" I snarled, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Well, hello to you too, sunshine," my older brother Ivan's dry voice crackled through the speaker. "Having a lovely evening?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. "Ivan. What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just thought you'd like to know the Pietros are on the move."

My irritation evaporated, replaced by laser-sharp focus. "Where?"

"Our guys spotted three of their top lieutenants near the docks. Looked like they were scoping out the Vadims’ shipping routes."

"Fuck," I hissed, already striding toward my car. "How long ago?"

"About twenty minutes. Vlad's heading there now, but—”

“Vadim?”

“No. Our brother.”

"I'm on my way," I cut him off, sliding behind the wheel. "Keep me updated."

"Will do. And Abe?"

"Yeah?"

Ivan's voice softened slightly. "Whatever's got you wound up… handle it. We can't afford distractions right now."

I gritted my teeth, refusing to acknowledge the twinge of guilt. "I've got it under control."

"Sure you do," he replied, unconvinced. "Just get your head in the game, Brother."

The line went dead, and I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. As I peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing, I forcibly shoved all thoughts of Pippa to the back of my mind. The family needed me. Everything else could wait.

***

I gunned the engine, weaving through traffic with laser focus. The Pietros moving on our territory was a bold play—one we couldn't afford to ignore. As I sped toward the docks, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, grateful for the distraction from my earlier… complications.

My younger brother Vlad was already there when I arrived, his hulking silhouette unmistakable even in the dim light. I killed the engine and approached silently, years of training kicking in as I scanned our surroundings.

"Anything?" I murmured, coming to stand beside him.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving the warehouse across the street. "Not yet. But something's off."

I nodded, trusting his instincts. Vlad might be the youngest of us, but he had a nose for trouble that rivaled even Ivan's. We stood in tense silence, the salty air prickling my skin as we watched and waited.

A flicker of movement caught my eye—a shadow where there shouldn't be one. I tapped Vlad's arm, gesturing subtly. He inclined his head, confirming he'd seen it too.

"I'll circle around back," I whispered. "You take the front. Quiet and clean."

"Always," Vlad replied with a hint of that cocky grin.

As I crept toward the rear of the building, my senses sharpened to a knife's edge. The crunch of gravel under my boots, the distant lapping of waves against the pier—every sound seemed amplified in the stillness of the night.

I reached for my gun, the weight of it comforting in my hand. Part of me hoped for a confrontation, craving the simplicity of action and reaction. It was so much easier than dealing with… other things.

Pushing away the unwelcome thought of that gorgeous full face and soft curves, I focused on the feel of the gun in my hand.

I edged around the corner, my back pressed against the rough brick wall. Vlad appeared on the opposite side, our eyes meeting in silent communication. Years of working together had honed our ability to move as one unit, anticipating each other's actions without a word.

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