Page 39 of The Bratva's Plus-Size Bride

It’s when I’m alone that things get tough. At night, I relive those scenes from the hotel over and over again. The videos I watched on Anton’s computer play in my mind whenever I’m not distracted by something and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to scrub them out. They’re a part of me now. The only solution I’ve found is to always be busy.

Maybe it’s something I’ll come to terms with in time, because I don’t regret my choice to stay with Anton. I can’t. He’s become something central to my life, a pillar to lean on when everything else spins. I’ve never had anything like that before: someone to rely on, someone who’s always looking out for me. It’s a dangerous feeling because what if one day he leaves? Everyone else has.

“So,” says Anton, as we’re walking back to the office with takeout coffees in hand. “My family’s having a cookout.”

I side-eye him, wondering where this is going. So far, I’ve met Luka, Viktor, and Anya, but I know the Milov family is huge and there’s plenty more to meet. A daunting amount of them, especially when I have zero of my own.

The weather has turned mild, and the day is warm enough that I’m out with just my sweater, my jacket loopedaround my neck. Anton bought both of them for me. They appear randomly at my house with absolutely no receipts or tags, so there’s no chance for me to return them, and he denies any knowledge of them whatsoever, but I’m not an idiot.

They’re not the only thing, either. Food, household supplies, bath products, none of it ordered by me. And the landlord has become suspiciously present and obsequious, repairing things that have been broken since before I moved in, and hiring a cleaning service to go over the whole place. Anton is decidedly shifty on the subject whenever I bring it up.

“A cookout? That sounds nice. It’s the perfect weather for it.” It’s Friday afternoon, and we’re pretty much done at the office, but I’ll probably go back and find a few more things to do before heading home for the day. Everyone else likes to take off early, and I find I’m most productive in those quiet times.

Anton slips his hand into mine, interlacing our fingers. It’s a small gesture, but it fills me with warmth each time he chooses me. “I want you to come with me. It’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to meet everyone. They’re all dying to meet you.”

“You told them about me?” I squeeze his hand.

I know Anton. He’s gentle and kind, despite being part of the mafia. The rest of his family? For all I know, they could be more like the people I watched in those videos than anything like him. Ruthless, cruel, evil. I don’t think I can relax around a group of criminals when I’m still struggling to come to terms with just Anton’s life.

“A little.” His face breaks into a smile, and he looks so boyishly handsome that I stumble slightly, unable to take my eyes off him. “Though according to Anya, it’s all the time, and I never shut up about you. She’s a terrible liar, of course; don’tlisten to a word she says. I thought she’d toe the line a bit better now that she works for me, but that was just a pipe dream.”

Knowing Anya will be there mollifies me somewhat. We’ve only gotten closer since I decided to stay and for the first time in my life, I have a close friend. One that I can talk to about anything and shop with and laugh over stupid memes. It barely feels real.

“I don’t know, Anton,” I say, hesitating. We stop a few steps down from the casino. Friday afternoon is a prime time for the place, and I’m pleased to see how many people are streaming through its doors. “It sounds like a lot.”

“Tell you what,” he says, taking my other hand and spinning me to face him. I glance from side to side, but he doesn’t care at all if one of our coworkers sees us like this. “We’ll go together, and if you don’t like the vibe, we’ll leave. I’ll tell them I’m not feeling well, and I’ll get you out of there. There's no need to stay if you’re not into it.”

I sink my teeth into my lower lip, but seriously, when he’s looking at me like that, so earnest and hopeful, how can I say no? Finally, I nod. “Fine. But I’m not making any promises. I might step one foot in the door and then want to leave. When is it?”

He grins. “Tonight. Come on, I’ll take you home to get changed.”

***

So. Many. People. I’ve given up trying to count them all. Children run past, laughing and shrieking, playing a game of tag that has them darting in and out of the house and the backyard. A fat, old dog waddles around, eyeing plates with eternal hope.

Anton hasn’t left my side. He’s got one hand on my lower back, rubbing soothing circles around it as he introduces me to what must be his one-hundredth cousin. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but when you come from no family like I do, it sure feels that way.

They’re not at all what I expected. I thought I’d be with hardened criminals giving each other suspicious looks, but it looks more like a Hallmark movie than Goodfellas. There’s obvious affection and lighthearted teasing between the relatives, and I haven’t seen a single gun the entire time.

And of course, there’s Anton. A young boy runs by us and slaps him on the leg, yelling out ‘tag’ before sprinting across the spacious yard.

Anton gives me a bolstering kiss on the cheek. “May I?”

“I can’t see that you have any other choice,” I reply, spotting the children with their eager eyes locked onto Anton. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He rolls up his sleeves, revealing those deliciously toned forearms, and takes off in an earnest sprint after the kids, who scatter like pool balls in all directions. Just before he reaches the first one, which takes all of three of his giant strides, he pretends to trip and lets the boy run out of range. The game continues in a similar fashion for another ten minutes—Anton nearly wins, then makes a dramatic fall that allows the kids to take the round every time.

It’s too endearing, and the fuzzy feeling hovering around my ovaries spells trouble. He’s good with kids. Really good. Fantasies of him as a father flash through my brain before I can rein them in, and my body is screaming, “Breed me now.”Seriously? Get it together.

When he returns, flushed and spotted with grass stains, I hand him back his beer and rub a spot of dirt from his cheek. “I can’t believe you lost. I thought I’d backed a winner, here.”

He straightens up and snaps a dramatic bow. “I’m deeply sorry, my queen. How can I make up for my shameful defeat?”

“I can think of a few ideas,” I say into his ear, standing on my tiptoes.

“You guys are too cute,” Anya pipes in, appearing at my side just as I lean in for a kiss.

“Nauseating,” Viktor adds from beside her. “And in front of the children.”

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