Page 25 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
It reminds me just how young she is, over a decade my junior.
“Have you ever wanted to live a different life, something where you’re not part of a giant crime ring?” she asks, switchingto a full cross-legged position across from me, knees brushing against one of mine.
Easy question. “Yes.”
She frowns at me. “Can you try to answer the questions with more than a single word? I know it goes against your nature, but I think it’ll make it more fun if you’re not, you know, a total rock about this. You have to give me something here. Unless you want one-word answers back.”
I don’t. I want to know everything there is to know about Talia, the stuff that wasn’t in any of the dossiers, the stuff that no one else knows, not even her brothers.
“I wanted to be a park ranger,” I admit, rubbing the back of my head. “Way out in one of the national parks. Spending all day outside, rescuing errant tourists from their own mistakes.”
She looks me up and down. “Actually, I can totally picture you in one of those green uniforms. Huh. A ranger? You really do like all this outdoorsy stuff, don’t you?” She gestures around the cabin. “It’s a shame you’re kind of trapped in Miami.”
I shrug one shoulder. I accepted that my life was going to go in an entirely different direction a long time ago. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Her nostrils flare as she snorts. “Like I’m going to give you a dare. Truth, please.”
“Are you interested in your family’s art business?” I hold up my hands to forestall her protest. “The legitimate side of things. I won’t ask for any family secrets.”
She considers the question for a moment, reaching past me to the coffee table for the package of cookies sitting there. “I guess? I like art, who doesn’t? I love having a ton of art in my space, but it’s not my passion in the same way it is for Marlenand Simon. They eat, sleep, and breathe art. For me, I’m happy to visit a gallery, buy a piece or two, and not think about it for another six months.”
“So if I came over to your place, I could expect to find some long-lost masterpieces on your walls?”
She presses a finger to her lips like she’s keeping a secret. “All legitimately acquired, obviously. Now your turn, truth or dare?”
I can tell she’s getting into this, leaning forward until our legs are fully pressed together, and I can see every freckle on her cheeks. “Truth.”
“Dang, I wanted to dare you to streak down the street.” She thinks for a minute. “Okay, got it. Why is your other house decorated like you hired a psychopathic designer who hates your guts? It’s seriously offensive in there.”
That drags a laugh out of me. “It’s not that bad,” I protest.
“Nope, there’s no denying it. It’s not a matter of taste. It’s objectively awful. What happened?”
“Alright,” I admit. “I hired someone and didn’t like their work. They left it half done, and I hired someone else who again did half a job before I fired them. Both halves are awful, aren’t they?”
“Truly the definition of all money and no taste,” she agrees, snagging another cookie.
“Truth or dare?” I ask her, watching her nibble. I love the way she eats—tiny little bites like an adorable woodland creature.
She swallows. “Truth.”
I make a face of great disappointment. “Ah, and I wanted to dare you to streak down the street.”
Talia smacks me playfully on the arm. “Nice try.”
“Who’s your favorite brother?” I ask instead, enjoying the mental image of Talia running naked.
She gasps. “I don’t have one, of course.”
“Liar,” I argue. “Everyone does. I do.”
“If you tell anyone this, you’re dead,” she warns me. “It’s Simon. He was the only one who rooted for me to get a job at the wildlife clinic after college. He wanted me to have a chance at a regular life.”
Her half-eaten cookie sits forgotten in her hands as her eyes take on a faraway look. I reach forward and brush a crumb from her bottom lip. She startles, but doesn’t pull away, her eyes dropping to my lips.
“They want to keep you safe,” I say. “You’re precious, Talia.”
That’s the wrong thing to say. Her eyes flare in anger, and she jerks backward. “I’m notprecious,” she snaps. “I’m a human being with my own desires, and this is my one life. Why do I have to spend it locked up like some fairy tale princess?”
