Page 30 of Bratva Queen

“I haven’t answered him yet.”

“What? Why not?”

I shook my head, staring down at the table and unable to meet her eyes as I admitted, “I don’t know if I love him.”

“That’s of no consequence here,meelaya.”

“What?” I looked up. “How could you say that?”

She smiled sadly, at least giving me the recognition of the heartache of the situation. “He will bring you security. Financial security and other security—look how he protects you with a full-time bodyguard at your side!”

I guiltily thought of how I’d taken that particular “privilege” too far. Even at the wake. We’d shared such a touching conversation. It was beyond professional boundaries.

“Remember all the nights we struggled because your father drank our money away? Remember a year ago, when we were on the brink of homelessness? Remember when I had to send Oleg to school in broken shoes?” She teared up again. “His poor toes were black by the time he’d walked home!”

I quickly shifted closer and hugged her with one arm, resting my cheek on her head as she cried.

“Yes, Mama… of course I remember.”

She sniffed, straightening up and composing herself. “I didn’t need love from your father. I needed security, to feel safe and protected, the way Stepan makes you feel. All the love I needed came from you two beautiful children.” She smiled. “And the sooner you marry Stepan, the sooner you’ll have children of your own and feel that love. You’ll see… It will be worth it.”

I swallowed, taking a moment to prepare for what was coming next because it was a big factor in this decision.

“Mama, Stepan is a Koslov man. Do you know what that means? He’s—”

“Of course I know, Isabel,” she said, looking serious now and casting her eyes down as she sat up straight. “But we don’t speak of it.” As if to show her knowledge of the bratva world, she explained, “He’s wealthy but never speaks of his job; he has men with guns around him all the time. He even had a gunshot wound—I grew up downtown, I know what a gunshot wound looks like. But as long as you’re married to the boss, you’re the most protected woman in the whole city.”

My mouth hung open slightly, my heart sinking. That was my last playing card, my last reason to “get out,” and she’d just stepped on it.

“He is your—no,our—savior. He found you when we needed him most, and it would be completely selfish of you to turn him away, Isabel. Not to mention, foolish. This is the chance of a lifetime and if you don’t take it… well… I don’t knowwherewe’ll be next year. Perhaps worse than being homeless.”

I sunk my face into my hands and drew it back up, pulling at my cheeks with the motion. “You’re right, Mama. I know you’re right. I guess I just needed to hear it.”

* * *

That night,I couldn’t sleep. I’d been spending all day thinking of Stepan and the reasons why I should or shouldn’t accept his proposal.

But I’d been avoiding the most glaringly obvious reason: that I loved Aleksei Chernoff. I did. There was no denying that pull in my stomach when he walked into the room or the warm, happy feeling I felt whenever he comforted me.

We shared this emotional connection that I’d never felt with Stepan. I always felt that Alek understood me, with just one look into each other’s eyes. He seemed to share in my grief of losing a close family member and of having to live a life he hadn’t actually chosen. He knew me even though he hardly knew anything about me, and it was the same for me. I could see who he was as a person, and I loved him for it.

When I thought of him, I felt not only my mind calm but my body melt. There was this carnal pull I felt toward him, a deep need to feel his skin on my fingertips, his lips pressed to mine, and his hard body against me. It wasn’t just that sexually charged feeling I would get with Stepan, it was so much more. It was like my soul yearned to be connected with his, through mind… and body.

I had to get some kind of closure before I made my decision. I couldn’t just ignore that part of me, that passionate, burning part of me that cried out to be given attention. It would only fester if I didn’t give it some kind of chance to be freed.

I quietly stepped out of bed and slipped my clothes on over my negligee, then carried my boots until I was out in the hall, pulling the door shut with a quiet, though heart-stopping,click. I put my boots on, pulled my hood over my head, and stuffed my hands deep into my pockets.

The rental house was only a few blocks away and Stepan was in Moscow. Aleksei would be alone tonight, staying behind to watch over me, as was his job. I knew he would be pissed if he knew I was walking alone, at night, in the downtown area. But it wasn’t like I could call him; that would kind of defeat the purpose of this impromptu decision. Besides, it might’ve even been more dangerous to stop at a phone booth this time of the night, where someone might spot me waiting alone under the dim glow of the street light.

When he opened the door, he wore only sweatpants and a look of confused anger on his face. I saw his torso completely naked for the first time and gulped. It was mountainous, tattoos swirling on one bulging pec, and he had a scar or two across his ribs. When I pulled the hood off my head, Alek’s eyes widened, and he looked behind me.

“What the fuck, Isabel?” He quickly pulled me inside and closed the door, locking it. I noticed him lay his handgun down on the entry table, it was obviously concealed behind the door when he opened it. “How did you get here?”

“Aleksei… I…” I felt out of breath, and not necessarily because of the walk over here. My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I couldn’t think straight. “I needed to see you.”

“Seeme?” he asked as though that was the craziest thought. “Why? What happened?”

“Well…” I pulled off my thick jacket, and he took it to hang at the door. “Stepan proposed to me today.”

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