Page 67 of Caught By the Bratva Boss

He smacks me on the shoulder on his way out, saying in Russian, “Relax, Boss, I don’t have a death wish. I’m glad to see she’s doing well. I never would’ve forgiven myself if you hadn’t gotten there when you did.”

I’m pissed that things ended up like they did, but I know he did everything he could and that he would’ve given his life for hers. I don’t take that lightly. I need men I can trust around me, and Yuri’s always been one of my top guys. I give him a nod, letting him know everything is okay between us. He may have just been joking around in front of Charlie, but I see the relief in his eyes when he realizes I don’t hold him responsible.

Turning back to Charlie, I grab a straw for the huge smoothie Valentina’s just made for her and stick it in before scooting the glass in front of her and then get myself a cup of coffee.

“Drink all of it, and then we’re icing your ribs and you’re going to rest all damn day.”

“So bossy,” she mutters before taking a drink. “Thank you, Valentina. This is amazing.” She looks up at me while still sucking on her smoothie. “Can you translate that for me?”

I tell Valentina what she said, making her beam like a proud mother, and then tell her that maybe we should have some homemade soups for a while until Charlie’s mouth has healed a bit more.

“I will make herborsch!” she says, happily clapping her hands at getting to finally make something other than the Italian dishes she knows I love. Although, in all honesty, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to enjoy Italian food again. It’ll just make me think of Antonio, and I’ll immediately lose my appetite.

While I explain why Valentina is suddenly so damn excited, I sit down next to her and then eat the omelet that’s placed in front of me.

“I need to learn Russian,” Charlie says, making me smile around the bite I just took.

“I’ll teach you,” I tell her. “I can’t wait to hear you speak my language.”

“If it’s anything like the four years of Spanish I took in high school, then I’ll probably be able to manage a couple of sentences in a few years.”

“I bet my teaching method is a little different.” I give her a wink, already envisioning her in a short, plaid skirt and pigtails. “I allow for a lot of extra credit.”

“I bet you do,” she murmurs around her straw. “Just keep in mind that it’s going to be a long time before I can suck on anything wider than this straw.”

“That is unfortunate,” I admit, “but I’m sure we can figure out a way around that.”

She smiles and finishes her smoothie. Before I carry her back upstairs, I grab a couple of ice packs and the bottle of aspirin. Handing her some water, I give her a couple of pills, and when she’s finished, I pick her back up again.

“I like carrying you around. I might keep doing this even after you’re all better.”

“You better not. Your men will lose all the respect they have for me if they think I’m so weak and spoiled that I need to be carried.”

“Impossible. You have a saint-like status with them now. They’re all going to want to come up and kiss the top of your head like that fucking presumptuous Yuri.”

She gives a soft laugh and pats my chest. “He was a perfect gentleman at the mayor’s house.”

“That’s because he knew I was listening in and had snipers positioned around the damn house.”

“Did you really?”

“Of course. Fat load of good it did me. I wasn’t expecting the Rossi family or their fucking helicopter.”

“It was an honest mistake.”

“One I won’t ever make again,” I say, carefully setting her back down in bed and then positioning the pillows so she can sit up a bit. I put the cold packs on her sore ribs, even though she winces and makes it clear she doesn’t want them.

I grab my iPad and then get in next to her, handing her the remote from the nightstand beside me.

“You’re staying in here with me?”

“Of course. I just need to check a few emails, but other than that, I’m all yours.”

“I understand if you need to go take care of some things.”

“I’m not leaving you, Charlie. Quit being so damn stubborn and find something to watch.”

She’d huff out a big breath of air if her hurt ribs would allow it, but since she can’t, she settles on a slighthmphsound and then turns the TV on. She searches through the streaming channels until she finds some historical romance that I try my very best to not laugh at. It’s damn hard though when a guy walks out in white tights and a powdered wig.

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