Page 40 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

“And the other part?”

I shrugged. “We were worried about you. Arguing with Viktor is one thing. Not showing up to work is more serious. We felt something might have happened.” I’d thought it over on the drive and concluded that Annie was too strong to let something as petty as Viktor’s anger keep her away. “Are you sure you’re okay? This looks like more than a stomach bug.” It had happened rapidly, as viruses were prone to do. But the look of her rattled me. She’d gone from confident goddess to a ragged mess in less than eight hours.

“Well.” She cleared her throat. “Being violently ill for hours on end tends to make anyone look like a swamp monster.”

Truth, or something more sinister. Moments like this, I regretted not letting Ilya tag along. He’d know for certain whether Annie told the truth. As it was, I believed her, but a nagging suspicion ticked in the back of my mind. She’d hidden her children from us, all for good reasons that I approved. The nagging prodded me to believe that Annie hid something else from us. A deeper illness? What if this stomach bug was truthfully a chronic illness that eventually led to her death?

“You’re not going away, are you?” She leaned her head back, exposing her throat. “Don’t blame me if you’re vomiting your guts up tomorrow.” Taking a step back, she opened the door wider. “Viktor told you about the girls, didn’t he?”

It wasn’t spoken as a question, but I nodded. “And we understand your need to protect them. We will not interfere in any way. Perhaps someday, you will wish to introduce us.”

“And if I don’t?” There was the Annie who’d marched across the stage and stolen our hearts. She stood with her hands on her hips, her translucent skin turning pinkish as anger overtook her.

“Then things continue as they are. We understand your need to protect them.” I wasn’t positive she’d heard me the first time, so I reiterated the point.

“If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t have introduced you to them even if you were normal guys.” She grabbed a Kleenex from a box and wiped her nose. “They get attached.”

“And you worry this is not permanent. Which will cause them hurt.”

She nodded. “Among other things.”

Other things such as us being the ruling trio of the Chicago Bratva. Understandable. “Viktor will be happy to know you’re not prejudiced against him, only all men.”

A wry laugh lashed out. “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll love hearing that.” She sobered and shifted her body so it faced away from me. “I have to protect them. I’m the only parent they have. Tina, my roommate, she’s the fun aunt. I’m the parent, the one looking out for them, worrying about them.”

“It’s a heavy burden you carry. A noble one.” I patted her knee once and pulled my hand away. Her shabby apartment took on a new light when I spotted the small shoes tucked into a leaning rack. A few toys lay scattered in the hallway, and it smelled of coffee and banana bread, a homey, wholesome smell. “And when you are ready, we’d like to talk to you. We’re not done with you, Annie. Viktor spoke in anger, and he did not mean a word he said.”

“Sure felt like it.”

“I’m sure it did. He wanted to come himself, but he was afraid you wouldn’t open the door.”

A tiny smile sparked. “Yeah. I probably would’ve pretended not to be home. So he sent you instead?”

“I’m here merely to see that you have everything you need.”

Her breath rushed out. “Thank you. I’ll be fine. And you can tell Viktor that I’ll be back at work tomorrow.”

“He will appreciate that.” I made my way around the room, examining the photos in a rickety bookshelf and moving on before Annie caught me.

“You can sit down. And stop talking like you’re reading from a script.” She grumbled something about my always sounding proper and uptight.

I hid a smile, grateful to hear her annoyance. “You’re not required to come into work tomorrow if you’re still feeling ill.” I perched on the edge of the couch. “It wouldn’t be pleasant for anyone if your illness returned in the middle of a massage. Come back when you feel better. Completely better,” I added when defiance flashed in those deep green eyes. “I could take you to the doctor.”

“No, thanks.” She stood and swished her robe tight around her middle, tying the belt with fierce tugs. “I’ll be fine. No need tying up a doctor’s appointment when all I need is some juice, crackers, and six hours of Netflix.” She motioned at the TV where a familiar sitcom played in silence. “I’ll be back to work soon. Promise. If I’m not feeling better tomorrow, I’ll call.”

“Or text, if you don’t feel like talking.” Her phone lay on the coffee table, and I tapped it with one finger. The screen lit up, a message from Tina popping onto the screen. I looked away without reading it. Nothing said invasion of privacy like going through someone’s phone. “I’ll tell the others. Take care of yourself, Annie.” I cupped her cheek in one hand.

She held a hand in front of her mouth. “Don’t even think about kissing me. Not now. Even if I wasn’t contagious, my breath smells like something dead.”

“I’d risk it. But I respect your wishes.” I walked myself to the door and into the hallway.

Annie closed the door, and I listened for the slide of the lock catching. It wasn’t much, wasn’t anywhere near the safety we could provide, but it would be enough. For now.

21

ILYA

Annie sat beside me and clasped her hands together with her fingers intertwined. After Fyodor explained about her illness a few days ago, I’d waited with breath held for her to decide not to return to the office. She surprised us all when she showed up this morning, declared herself fit, and agreed to sit down in Viktor’s office after work for a chat.

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