Page 39 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
I storm away, heading for my car.
My mood is dark as I drive away, but the closer I get to her, the more it lifts. I press my foot harder against the accelerator. Eager to get home. Even though she’s angry with me and was giving me the cold shoulder this morning, I still need to be near her.
Pulling up outside the entrance of the mansion, I clench my jaw tightly. Nikita’s car is parked out front. My sister is here, and I have no idea what I should expect to find inside.
Pushing the front door open I cock my head to the side, listening for their voices. I follow the sound of lighthearted laughter into the living room.
Nikita is sitting on the sofa with Talia. Both girls have their legs curled up beneath them. Talia is holding a cup of tea, and Nikita is animatedly telling her a story.
Neither of them notices me standing in the doorway as I watch them, smiling, chatting as though they’ve been friends their whole lives.
My eyes trace over Talia, the beautiful smile on her face, and the glow in her cheeks. My heart aches. A sudden, intense pulling spikes through me, as though my entire body needs to be at her side. My arms need to be wrapped around her. I need to breathe her in and taste her.
As though she can feel the burn of my gaze, she looks toward me and stiffens. “Timofey,” she says my name as the warmth drains from her face. She’s still angry with me.
“I see we have a visitor.” I step further into the living room and take a seat opposite the girls. “Hi, Nikita. Did you just happen to be passing by?” I raise my brows at my sister.
She pulls a face at me and rolls her eyes. “Actually, I overheard Oleg and Diomid on the phone together, andobviouslyI had to come over and meet her.” She waves her hands in the air, gesturing toward Talia. “And I’m super happy I did.” She grins at Talia. “She’s amazing.”
Talia smiles back, all warmth and softness toward my sister.
The warmth and softness that I want. That I yearn for from her.
Nikita dives right back into the story she was telling when I walked in. Talia nervously steals a glance at me, and I realize, her coldness might not be entirely born of anger. If I’m not mistaken, the look in her eyes is hurt.
My heart tightens.I hurt her. The most beautiful and perfect creature in the world. The one I want to protect fromeverything, and everyone… but I ended up being the person who hurt her.
I clench my jaw, standing, struggling not to march over to her and pull her into my arms. “Are you girls hungry?” I ask, looking for a distraction from my thoughts.
“No, thank you,” Talia whispers, hardly giving me the time of day.
“No, I’m meeting some friends for a late lunch, so I won’t eat anything now,” Nikita says happily. “I should probably get going soon.”
She stands up, brushing her hands over her dress. “I’ll come visit again, though. It was a lovely morning.” She grins at Talia. “I’m also holding you to the offer.”
“What offer?” I ask, tense.
“Talia is going to teach me how to surf,” Nikita says excitedly.
“Is that so?” I ask Talia. Talia bites her lower lip and ignores me.
“You can start on a long board, it’s a nice, relaxed way to learn,” she says to Nikita as though I’m not even in the room.
Talia says goodbye to Nikita, and as Talia disappears up the stairs to her room, my sister shoots me a look. “Walk me to my car, Timofey,” she demands, raising her brows.
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. I know that look all too well.
I follow her out to the car, and she leans against the door without opening it, folding her arms across her chest as she tilts her head up toward me in defiance. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about this,” she huffs, gesturing toward the house. “I’m goingto be an aunt. You’re going to be adad.You didn’t think we had a right to meet her or even know about her?”
I shrug my shoulders and look sheepishly at the ground. Being scolded by my sister is very different from being scolded by my brothers.
“I would have told you eventually,” I sigh, pushing my fingers through my hair.
For a moment, Nikita is quiet, pulling her mouth to the side as her face softens. “I love her. She’s amazing. You have to let everyone meet her,” she says.
“I don’t know if now is a good time.”
“This weekend,” she says, ignoring my protests. “At the family dinner. Be there at six. Don’t be late. And so help you if you don’t bring her with you.”
