Page 48 of Cruel Russian Pakhan
The sooner I met them, the sooner I could leave this house, and Lev, behind.
An hour later, I met Lev at the front door, and without a word, he opened it. We stepped out of the house and headed to his vehicle, where Rocco was waiting.
The drive was quiet, and I tried not to think about the man sitting next to me. But how could I not, when he smelled so damn good and had such an imposing presence?
Thirty minutes later, Rocco pulled up to a tall iron gate. Lev rolled down his window and pressed the button on the intercom.
"It's Lev Safin. I'm here with Katya.”
No one responded, but the iron gates creaked open in front of the vehicle. Rocco drove us down the long driveway lined with manicured hedges and blooming rose bushes, stopping in front of a three-story mansion that sat like a crown in the center of the estate.
Rocco stepped out and opened my door. I met Lev at the front of the car and followed him up the stone steps to the entrance, where one of the guys—the brown-haired one who was with Artyom the night of the party—stood waiting.
“Lev, thanks for bringing her.”
I watched as both men shook hands.
“Not a problem,” Lev replied.
The man turned to me with a warm smile. “Katya, my name is Yegor. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you,” I said softly.
I was too nervous to even take a look around the house as he led us down the hallway. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, since falling would only add embarrassment to the anxiety already twisting in my stomach.
We stepped through an open doorway.
“Let me introduce you to everyone.”
He placed a hand on the small of my back, gently steering me toward the group gathered on the other side of the room.
The first person we stopped in front of was Artyom. I forced myself to meet his cold gray eyes. Something about him reminded me of Jaroslav, his cold gaze making it clear he didn’t like me.
Artyom didn’t offer a handshake, and when he spoke, his voice sent a chill down my spine.
“I’m Artyom. The oldest, and the leader of the Rykov Bratva faction. The fact that you’re here doesn’t mean I want you here.”
I stiffened. Yegor’s hand gently squeezed my back, comfortingly.
“I still can’t believe my father stooped so low, cheating on my mother after everything she sacrificed for him. I’m sure your mother knew he was married, yet she opened her legs for him. So no, I don’t think highly of your mother or you, Katya. But my father’s blood runs in your veins. That makes you our responsibility. Nothing more.”
Artyom turned and walked away, heading toward the bar to refill his glass. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
The blonde man who stepped forward next had a much friendlier demeanor. He offered his hand with a grin, and I shook it.
“The name’s Zahkar, but everyone calls me Zak. It’s nice to meet you.”
I smiled back, genuinely. “Same here.”
Then came Vera, who surprised me by pulling me into a hug. I hugged her back, the contact unexpectedly comforting. When she pulled away, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. Then she smiled. “I’m Vera, as you probably already know. If I’d found you sooner, we could’ve pretended to be twins, pulled a few pranks, maybe even switched places to get out of trouble…or get into it.” She winked.
I laughed. “Honestly, when I saw you at the party, it was like an out-of-body experience. I’m just happy to be here…meeting all of you.”
The last sibling stepped forward with a broad grin and wrapped me in another warm hug.
“I’m Kira. And seeing as you’re twenty-two and I’m twenty-one, thank you for letting me keep the title of baby of the family.”
