Page 34 of Dark Bratva Christmas
For now, anyway.
Matysh returns a couple of minutes later with two piping hot cups of cocoa in hand. “Well, hopefully you like extra marshmallows.”
I raise my brows at him as I take it, once again stifling back a laugh at the sight of the Pahkan sipping on his own hot chocolate. It’s too ironic.
“Let’s walk,” he grunts, nodding toward the lights. I loop my arm in his, and cling to him as we start through the displays.
We don't really say anything to each other. Occasionally, I mention how something is beautiful and Matysh just grunts something incoherent in response.
I don’t think that counts as talking.
But it counts towardsomething.
Chapter ten
Matysh
I hate the way she gets to me. I took her to look at fucking Christmas lights.
I run my hands over the jacket of my tuxedo as I wait for Catarina to join me. This will be our first timeofficiallycoming out to the upper crust society about our relationship.
And people are waiting for it, I’m sure.
I take in a deep breath, and as I exhale, I hear heels clicking from behind me. I turn my head to see Catarina finally walk down the hall wearing the ball gown.
My jaw drops. Fuck, she looks incredible.
The dress fits her perfectly, showing off her curves in all the right ways. There's a deep V-neck in the front that cuts between her breasts and exposes just enough of her skin to leave you wanting more. And goddamnit, that makes my cock go rigid.
I’d love to tear the designer dress into shreds, and then make her come relentlessly around my cock over and over all night.
Fuck the ball.
Though beauty like this is deadly. It makes you vulnerable. Men have fought wars over lesser women and this one is mine.
Catarina is mine.
“You did good,” Catarina says sheepishly, as she looks down at the dress. Her silky hair is tied back in an elegant braid that my fingers yearn to undo and make a fucking mess. “Thanks for the dress.”
“Hmm.” I force myself to my feet, and then extend my arm.
We don’t speak as we make our way to the SUV, and Catarina doesn’t say anything about the excessive number of men I have trailing us.
We slide into the back seat of the car with ease, and then Peter pulls away, heading in the direction of the Plaza Hotel.
“I’ve never been here,” Catarina says, as the lights of the Plaza come into view twenty minutes later. “We've been invited everyyear, but my father has always felt like he needed to lay low. A lot of my friends always talk about it like they had to be dragged there, so I didn't think I was missing much.”
I catch the way she justifies her missing out, and I have to wonder…Whatwasit like to grow up under the roof of Boris Petrov?Something tells me it wasn’t what it appeared to be.
However, I don’t happen to be a fan of the ball either. On top of it being nothing more than a social pissing contest, there’salwaysnarks around. And anybody trying to talk about business is immediately outed as an officer.
“Well, from everything I've heard, it seems like you're quite the fan of these events,” Catarina says with an eyebrow raised and a coy smile on her lips.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, thinking back to the last time I went to one of these. It had to have been five years ago, before I was promoted to the Pakhan when my father decided to step down.
“You're no stranger to a scandal,” Catarina mutters, not explaining.
She doesn’t have to. I know my reputation. I’ve left this place with multiple women I shouldn’t have, some being married.
