Page 29 of Bratva Beast

She walks around the counter and jumps onto the stool next to me. “Did you see Papa?”

“I did? How do you know where I went?”

She grabs her phone and plays her voicemail. “Isabella. It appears you are marrying my son. Certain things will be required of you. I will send Magdalena to you later today so she can give you the information you need. Don’t try to avoid this. You’re carrying my grandson.”

I shake my head. “Jesus. He couldn’t wait for me to get home and talk to you?”

She pushes the end button on her phone. “I’m going to be unhappy, huh?”

“Probably. But at least it’s the Pakhan’s fault and not mine.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to save you.”

I cock my head. “We need to get you new clothes. You’re going to have to go to more events, and you need to dress and act like the wife of the future Pakhan. Magdalena can help facilitate that. Do you remember her?”

“Maybe. Wasn’t she the girlfriend after your mom? Papa wouldn’t marry her, so she married some other old Russian dude who worked for your dad. She’s like the old lady of the women in the bratva.”

I laugh. “Great explanation. Yeah. She’s nice. She’ll give you what you need, and she’s used to thumbing her nose at Papa, so there is that.”

Isabella chews another bite of the sandwich. “What else?”

“We have to go to the fundraiser on Friday. I’m sure you’re going to say you have to work, but it’s a command performance. You’ll need to look like you want to be there.” I duck my head, picking it back up to see her cringy face. “And you have to look the part.”

“Great. Let me guess. It’ll be like the prom I didn’t go to.”

I sigh. “Yeah, but without the corsage.”

She stands up and scoots the plate in front of me. “Are we making dinner or going out?”

“How about we do takeout? You can choose one of those sweet rom com movies, and I’ll rub your feet.”

Isabella beams. “I do like chick flicks.” She brushes her lips across my lips. “I’m going to take a nap. If you finish that sandwich and get naked before I fall asleep, I’ll let you fuck me.”

I cram the rest of the sandwich in my mouth, chewing like a beaver, and follow behind like a whipped puppy, needing attention from my mistress. She chuckles as I take off pieces of clothing as I walk.

ISABELLA

The team of people necessary to make me over into the perfect future wife I’m supposed to be is ridiculous. Magdalena stands with her arms crossed, pointing out things she doesn’t like. She shakes her head. “More blush. She needs to appear happy and healthy.”

I sigh. “I think we’re good.”

She tilts her head. “Can we make the breasts higher?”

I gasp. “Come on. I’m supposed to look like Cynric’s girlfriend, not his hooker.” Heavy steps approach and I cringe. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful.”

She smirks and waves her hand. “You’re right.” She turns to greet Cynric. “I should be going.” She steps to Cynric and tips her head. “Thank you for the opportunity to do something useful.”

Cynric frowns, replying in Russian that she’s always useful and appreciated.

She moves around Cynric and snaps her fingers at the three stylists who finish packing up their stuff.

Cynric watches the group exit the penthouse and stares. The look of possession on his face makes my panties wet and I groan. “Say something.”

He stalks to me and touches my lips with his finger. Assuring the lipstick won’t smudge, he slams his mouth on mine. I moan into his mouth as he holds me in his arms, kissing me like his life depends on it. He breaks the kiss. “You’re a goddess.”

That’s a kick-ass line. I drop my gaze. “Thanks.”

He lifts my chin. “You’re stunning.” He leans in. “Magdalena was wrong. Your breasts are perfect. I’m not sure I want to go out at all.”

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