Page 54 of The Bratva's Innocent Sold Bride
Suddenly, it was just us women when the men all rushed out to take care of something that was absolutely not a big deal, but also couldn’t wait another minute. So, this was being married to the Bratva. Tense waiting, and no one admitting how scared they were.
After we pretended to finish our dessert, which had been delicious before but now tasted like sand, Mila suggested we go to her place for drinks. And to wait it out, though nobody said that part. I rode with Mila, who kept up a constant chatter, toomuch, in fact. It started to grate on my own nerves. Should I be worried, too?
At any moment of any day, these women could find themselves widows, in charge of everything their husbands left behind, including all the shit that got the husband killed in the first place. It was a wonder they weren’t all bald from pulling their hair out.
As we pulled into the drive leading up to Mila’s beautiful Spanish-style villa, I turned to her. “Should I be worried?” I asked, silently pleading with her to tell the truth. Or maybe not. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
She sighed and forced a smile. “Welcome to the Bratva,” she said, then patted her baby bump. “If only Junior here would agree to a shot of vodka.”
“That bad?”
Her smile was a little less strained. “They’ll be fine. They always are.”
Until they weren’t.
Everyone congregated in Mila’s giant modern kitchen, pulling out cheese and fruit from the fridge, with Katie raiding the wine cellar. Mila took me on a brief, perfunctory tour, apologizing that everything wasn’t perfect yet; she was still working on finding the right pieces for each room.
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
“I can’t wait to see your place when it’s done. Mat keeps us updated when he remembers and is always raving about what a great job you’re doing. Decorating a place that size on your own is a project, that’s for sure.”
I was too stunned to respond and could only nod. Mat had praised me to his cousin? That was a bit above and beyond ourlittle act, wasn’t it? Slowly but surely, furniture was trickling in, along with artwork and little knick-knacks I thought were cute or fun or pretty. I never even knew Mat noticed.
Back in the kitchen, we pretended everything was just as jolly as before, the men all rushed out, guns at the ready, but nobody was doing a very good job. An hour passed with no word, and Jenna—I was pretty sure she was Max’s wife and Katie’s younger sister—suggested a movie night. Mila was quick to agree, trying to herd everyone into her theater, hyping up the new popcorn machine, but Olivia shook her head.
“I’m exhausted. I’m heading home.”
“Me too,” Daria piped up.
Everyone wilted. “Just because we haven’t heard anything doesn’t mean something’s wrong,” Katie said with authority, even as she bit her lower lip with worry.
“All the more reason to go home and get some sleep,” Daria said, eyes flashing. Olivia nodded, already heading wearily for the door.
I raised my hand, as if I were in school, and asked if one of them could drop me off at my hotel. “If it’s not a problem,” I hurriedly added. “I can stay if it is.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “You’re staying at our place, right?” she said, quickly explaining that they owned the hotel at my look of confusion. “That’s right on your way, Daria. Can you take her?”
“Of course,” she said in a clipped voice. Once again, I sputtered that it was no problem to stay and watch a movie, but she took my arm and led me out the door. “I’ll take you to the hotel if you want, but I’m not going home,” she said fiercely as soon as we were in her car.
“You’re not?” I asked.
“I can’t stand this waiting around anymore. I know what’s happening, and I mean to go see if Ivan and the others need help.” Leaning down, she pulled a huge gun halfway from under the seat to show me. “There’s one under yours as well. I assume you can shoot?”
“I can’t,” I said. “I really can’t.”
“It’s fine. I get you’ve only been in the family a short time, and Mat’s been busy. You should get to the range on your own, though, even if he can’t take you.”
“Daria,” I said, around the block of fear rising up my chest. “You’re the first person who’s been real with me tonight. Is it that bad?”
“It’s worse,” she said. “And this protecting us women nonsense is crap. You can bet your boots that Nat and Mila would be right here with me if they weren’t pregnant.”
“But what about movie night?” I asked. “Aren’t they scared, too?”
“Out of their wits, but they’ll give it a couple more hours before they start getting antsy. I’m not that patient.”
“I’ll go with you,” I said. “I can’t shoot, but maybe I can be a lookout or something.”
She gave me a tense smile, her eyes immediately back on the road as we raced through the city into a desolate part of town. “Good. So, how’s life with Mat?”
