Page 69 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva
I glance down at Jennie. She doesn’t stir. Her hand is curled against my chest like a question. Like trust.
“Everything’s fine,” I say. “I’ll be out in a moment.”
There’s a pause, then, “We found the trigger source. The explosives were planted from inside. Definitely someone on the payroll.”
I close my eyes.
Of course.
I’m furious—but I’m not surprised. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop since the moment Jennie found that note on her dresser. We already knew whoever did it was an insider, and we’ve been waiting patiently for them to make a big move.
Still, hearing it confirmed—that someone under my roof, on my watch, dared to touch what’s mine—makes something cold and sharp settle in my gut.
“I’ll handle it,” I say into the radio. “No one makes a move until I say.”
“Understood.”
The line clicks off. I put the phone down. But I don’t get up. Not yet.
Because right now, I’ve got something more important in my arms.
My phone buzzes again. It’s Lukin.
Of course. I’ve been expecting his nosy ass to call.
I ease out from under Jennie, careful not to wake her. She stirs a little, her lips parting, but she doesn’t open her eyes. I stand over her for a beat longer, just looking, then pull the blanket over her and turn toward the door, putting on my discarded clothes as I go.
Outside the panic room, I find two of my most trusted men waiting.
“No one goes in,” I say, my voice low but sharp. “She doesn’t lift a finger without one of you watching her. You protect her with your lives.”
They nod in unison. “Yes, Boss.”
I walk away, down the hall that still carries the faint stench of smoke and rubble. My phone is still buzzing. I finally swipe to answer.
“Lukin,” I say, my tone tight.
“Adrian,” he says without preamble. “What the fuck happened? I got word about the explosion.”
“I’ve got it handled.”
“That wasn’t the question, Adrian.”
“I’m not a child, Lukin. I don’t need you checking in every time there’s a little noise on the estate.”
“That ‘little noise’ was a fucking bomb, Adrian,” he snaps. “I have ears everywhere, and this one set off alarm bells.”
I clench my jaw. “I’m capable of handling my shit.”
“Just remember you’re not alone in this anymore. You’ve got a wife now. That changes things.”
I stop at the end of the hall, pressing a hand to the wall to steady myself. I hate how he’s right. I hate how those words—you’ve got a wife now—make something shift in my chest.
“I know what I’m doing,” I tell him. “Let me deal with it.”
“You’d better,” Lukin says. “Because if this inside job goes deeper than you think, you’ll need to be ten steps ahead. For her sake.”
I don’t say anything. I end the call.
