Page 1 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

Chapter 1 - Natalia

I hum a catchy pop tune as I rummage through my closet, tossing aside outfits that aren't quite right for tonight. My fingers brush against sequenced blazers and silk shirts, each piece a tiny rebellion against my old life. Finally, I pull out an A-line emerald green dress that hugs my curves in all the right places and skirts around my knees. It’s the perfect dress, cinching right above my waist and flowing out to reveal what needs revealing and conceal what I’m not comfortable showing.

I know I’ll feel confident in it and that’s something I could use a lot of tonight, considering how I’d probably be surrounded by modelesque women tonight at the club.

"Perfect," I murmur, holding it up to the mirror. My reflection grins back at me, dark blonde hair tousled and chocolate brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

I can't help but do a little dance, relishing the quiet of my apartment. No stern-faced guards, no watchful eyes. Just me, Natalia Orlov, free as a bird and ready to paint the town red with my girls.

As I slip into the dress, my mind wanders to the clubbing plans for tonight. It still feels surreal, having friends who want to hang out just because they like me, not because I'm an Orlov. Before, when I was trailed by hulking men in black suits, people gave me a wide berth. Now? I'm just another 23-year-old looking for a good time.

"Take that, Bratva lifestyle," I say to my reflection, striking a pose. But even as I revel in my newfound freedom, a pang of guilt hits me. This life is all so new to me, and while I enjoy living independently, sometimes I think of what it took to get here. Right now, my brothers' faces flash through my mind back from when I told them I’d be moving out—Nikolai's stern frown, Dima's worried eyes, Fedor's clenched jaw, and Artyom's sad yet understanding smile.

I sigh, flopping onto my bed. I love my family and sometimes find myself wishing they’d understand my perspective. On one hand, I tell myself that their opinion shouldn’t matter. Yet, on the other, I find myself wanting them to be on board. It’s hard to choose an unknown path, and their support would make this transition so much easier.

If only they could see I need this. My stubbornness flares up, remembering our last argument. They just don't get it. They're happy with the chaos of the Bratva life, with all its power and danger. But me? I want something different. Something… normal.

I roll over, hugging a pillow to my chest. "Is that so wrong?" I ask softly, feeling a mix of love and frustration toward my family. They mean well, I know they do. But I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm a grown woman who can make her own choices, even if those choices scare them.

Shaking off the melancholy, I bounce back up when I see the time. Tonight isn't about dwelling on family drama. It's about freedom, fun, and maybe a little mischief. I grin, excitement bubbling up again as I reach for my makeup bag.

Just then, the door crashes open with a bang, and I nearly poke my eye out with my mascara wand. My heart plummets as four hulking figures burst into my bedroom.

"Seriously?" I yelp, whirling to face my brothers. "I gave you that key for emergencies, not to scare the life out of me!"

Nikolai, ever the stern eldest, crosses his arms. "This is an emergency, Natalia."

I roll my eyes, but can't help the grin tugging at my lips. "What, did you run out of vodka at home?"

Dima, the worrier, steps forward. "This isn't a joke, little sister."

"Aw, come on," I tease, poking him in the ribs. "You guys are worse than a bunch of old babushkas. But tell me, what’s the emergency?”

“We wanted to see how you’re doing,” Nikolai says.

“That,” I fold my arms in front of my chest and roll my eyes at him, “isnotan emergency. And I’m doing fine, thank you.”

Fedor, with a clenched jaw, mutters, "You won't be if you keep living like this."

I turn to face him now and narrow my eyes. "What, happily?"

Artyom, my closest brother in age, tries to lighten the mood. "Nice place, Nat. Though I think I saw a mouse in the kitchen."

"Ha!" I laugh despite feeling infuriated. "The only rodents here are the four of you!"

Despite my irritation at their intrusion, I can't help but feel a warm rush of affection. These four overprotective bears might drive me crazy, but they're mine.

"Look," I say, trying to keep my tone light, "I appreciate this unwarranted ‘emergency’ visit, but I've got plans tonight with some girls. We’re heading out for a night of partying so if we could just hurry along whatever this is no—”

Nikolai's frown deepens and he interrupts me with a groan. "Natalia, you don't understand the dangers—”

"Oh, I understand plenty," I interrupt, my stubborn streak flaring. "I understand I want a life outside of bulletproof cars and armed guards. Is that so terrible? I’m 23 for god's sake and I’m only going to be young once!"

I can see the conflict in their eyes, torn between love and duty. It makes my heart ache, but I stand my ground. This is my choice, my life.

Dima now steps forward. "Natalia, it's not all about living your life, consequences be damned. There are real threats out there. People who'd use you to get to us. People who could hurt YOU!"

I feel a flicker of familiar fear, quickly squashed by determination. I’m done living my life looking over my shoulder. This is exactly why I want to be away from my family. “I’m not naive, Dima. I know the risks. But I can't live my life in a gilded cage."

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