Page 61 of Innocent Bratva Twins
I cry out in fright, then realize it’s Nico. He’s holding a blanket that he’s trying to wrap over me.
“Sorry, my angel, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure you were warm,” he whispers.
I say nothing in response.
“Are you okay, Sera?” he asks, the pain in his voice is clear.
I don’t answer.
He sighs and tucks the blanket around me.
No matter how angry I am with him, it still touches my heart that he cares.Whoever he is.
Chapter 17 - Nico
The most difficult part was leaving her locked up in the penthouse when I left this morning.
She was still sleeping, exhausted from the overwhelming surge of emotion she had to suffer last night.
I’m furious with myself.
The worst part is that I finally have to admit that no matter what I did, regardless of her finding this discrepancy or not, eventually I would have had to let her go, or tell her who I really am.
There was no escaping the truth. It would have come out in the end.
I would’ve preferred to tell her a different way. Though on my own terms.
Traffic this morning is thicker than usual, and I’m agitated to the point of lashing out at someone for no reason. My usually calm demeanor is buried beneath the anger I have towards myself.
Anger because I might have lost her forever.
She’s furious at me.
Will she ever forgive me?
Can she love me for who I am?
I fell in love with you, but you aren’t even you.
Her words have played over and over again in my mind, like a record stuck, looping, repeating.I fell in love with you, but you aren’t even you
Shelovesme.
Perhaps not anymore.
After sitting in traffic for too long, I pull up outside the warehouse, where I’ve called everyone to meet this morning. My brothers are all here, along with the Kuznetsov brothers.
Everyone knows what happened—now we are going to try and find a way to solve this, as quickly and effectively as possible.
I’m the last one to walk in, but the guys are still busy getting their coffee and settling down, so at least I didn’t hold the entire meeting up.
I take a seat and wait for everyone to fall silent.
“Did everyone read the report?” I ask, looking around the table.
They nod, some saying yes, some staying silent.
“That is the entire amount that has been transferred to the Orlov account. The first transaction took place on the seventeenth of July last year, so just over six months ago—that means that someone has been inside my building, working with my staff, for over six months.”
