Page 41 of Bratva Queen

Chapter16

Aleksei

Ihardened my heart, even more so than when I saw my brother bloodied and beaten, and allowed my life to be changed forever by it. My life couldn’t have gone a different way, because this was the life chosen for me by destiny.

Fucking cruel, barbaric, cutthroat destiny.

I remembered something my father used to say, perhaps only once or twice when he felt cheated by his working-class status, but also when he was teaching us to be survivalists in the mountains. He’d said, “Life truly is ruled by the survival of the fittest. But don’t be fooled, money and power are more fitting for destiny than physicality.”

I didn’t truly understand it at the time, but these days it was becoming more and more clear to me. He was telling us that throwing a good punch will get you nowhere if the man you’re hitting has enough power. Put me and Stepan in a room, I could kill him. Easily. But all that would do is put a huge target on my back, a target that would be searched for by every man in Russia with a gun looking for the reward money that the next Koslov king would put on my head.

It was hopeless. Useless, in fact. My strength feltuselessto me when Stepan was around, always choosing my fate for me.

Not only that, but my body felt useless every time I looked at Isabel. I wasn’t allowed to feel that heat build in me. I wasn’t allowed to let my hands move where they wanted to, or let my lips kiss the skin I so desperately craved.

And the day she called me into that little dressing room, I realized I was facing the most difficult moment of my life. Nothing Stepan or Gregori had ever done cost me as much restraint as I had to use that day. But it wasn’t my dick screaming for freedom, it was my heart.

That morning, I stood in the dining area of the large kitchen, eating some quick breakfast when Isabel poked her head around the corner and asked, “Alek, are you free to accompany my mama and me to my dress fitting today? It’s right in the city center.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Stepan walked in and gave me a look. “I thought you’d join me for the meeting with Dima at the warehouse today, but I guess it’s better you watch over Isabel out there in the city.”

She grinned, then disappeared to get herself ready.

“You’re spreading me thin, boss,” I said, taking a seat across from him at the table. He frowned in question with a piece of toast in his mouth. “Isabel’s bodyguard, your right-hand man, two full-time jobs, really.”

He rolled his eyes and sat forward, speaking while chewing. “I get it, she needs to go out for certainappointments,” he said the word as though he saw them as playdates, “but she could have gotten the seamstress to come to the house. Seriously, you need to stop taking her out so damn much. Keep her at the house where the guards can watch over her, then you’ll be more available to join me at these meetings, where you’re supposed to be.”

“Hey, you’re the one who put me on her,” I said, holding my hands up innocently.

“Yeah, because I don’t trust any of the other guys around her. At least I know you won’t make a move or try some shit with her.”

I certainly wouldn’t. This time he was right about that.

He grabbed his last piece of toast and bit into it as he left the room, saying in a teasing tone, “Enjoy your dress shopping, Aleksei!”

I readied the black Lincoln town car Isabel always preferred I use and picked up the two Belarusian beauties at the front door. The seamstress shop was in the city, one of the most sought-after dress designers in the country, I overheard them saying to one another.

It was only when I pulled up in front of the shop that I realized she was talking about her fuckingweddingdress. I assumed it was just another evening dress for the multiple events Stepan took her to, always demanding she look her absolute best with a new designer piece to make the other wives—and their husbands—jealous. She was his arm candy after all. I decided to stay outside the shop and wait in the car. This wasn’t the kind of shop bratva men visited.

But, of course, within about 30 minutes I saw who I later realized was the seamstress standing in the doorway beckoning me inside. I obliged, wondering if everything was okay. She was smiling, though, so I figured Isabel was fine.

She stood on a platform wearing a wedding dress, swishing it around her feet. Her hair was twisted on top of her head so her shoulders and neck were completely exposed, and my eyes slid down her smooth, bare back.

Yebena met!I groaned inwardly.

Isabel was more than just fine… she was the most angelic woman I’d ever seen.

I quickly ripped my eyes away from her, already feeling that knot in my stomach tighten. When she heard me clear my throat, she turned around.

The seamstress quickly said, “I’m going to help your mother look around in the back,” and disappeared behind a curtain.

We were left alone.

“Um,” I shoved my hands into my pants pockets and looked across the room, at anything but her. “You needed me?”

“Yes,” she said, turning back to look into the mirror. “I need a man’s opinion. My mama is off looking for another dress because she thinks this one is too plain. She wants to see more lace and frills, but I love the simplicity of it… and I guess I figured I’d ask you if you thought it was boring like she does?” She laughed lightly, as though the question was so innocent.

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