Page 3 of Bratva Beast

The doctor takes the pants and slides the first leg over my foot. She works the other leg around my other leg, working the pants up my body. “Let’s change your bloody shirt.”

I nod as she helps me slide the sleeves over my arms. The fresh shirt slides over my arms as my head pounds.

A shadow moves into the doorway and Mikhail Bravikov scowls. “What’s going on?”

The doctor doesn’t miss a beat as she cocks her hip. “She has a concussion and needs to go get a CT.”

Mikhail complains, casting a glance at Cynric. “You’ll stay with her at the hospital until an enforcer gets there.”

I can’t look at Cynric to see his answer as he plucks me off the bed and cradles me back in his arms, following the doctor out the door.

Chapter 1

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

ISABELLA

“Isabella?” Papa’s voice bellows from behind the closed door. The extensive house has an open first floor decorated out of a home and garden magazine. Warm browns and rich blues accent the antique furniture and the twenty-four inch travertine tiles. Papa’s decorator has redone the place twice since I moved out to go to college.

“Isabella?”

My feet start moving before my brain registers that I’m headed into the lion’s den. He’ll be angry that I didn’t come in after the first yell. Taking a big breath, I blow it out as I open thedoor. He sits, leaning back behind his Louis XVI Mahogany desk that once belonged to JFK in the first-floor study of his Long Island North Shore estate. I cringe, ducking my head, bringing it up to stare into his powerful face. “Papa.” He looks older than his mid-fifties. Thinning hair and a paunch stomach don’t change the fact that women crawl all over themselves to have him. Money and power trump good looks.

His impatient tone brings me back to the room. “Sit. We need to talk.”

Oh shit. This can’t be good. Mikhail Bravikov is the Pakhan of the Bravikov Bratva. He took me into his household when my father, his number one enforcer, was murdered, and my mother wasn’t an option to keep me. He became my guardian, and I became his ward. I’ve lived here, off and on, for the last thirteen years. I take the seat on the left, in front of the desk.

He purses his lips. “I spoke to your advisor.”

I’m starting my fourth year of medical school at Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons at Columbia University. It figures he’s keeping track of me. My heart is racing. What did my advisor say to get Papa to call me home?

“Your advisor tells me you’re brilliant. Your professors love you.” He settles back with a cheshire grin, like Garfield, the cat. “I would expect nothing less.” He cracks his knuckles and leans forward. “I’ve decided you need to move out of your apartment.”

Don’t react. Be calm. Remember, he plays games. “May I ask why?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I’m worried about Cynric. He hasn’t been the same since his accident. He lives just down the street from your school. You’ll live there.”

I take a slow breath. “My current rotation is at Harlem Hospital. It’s a much farther distance from Cynric’s.”

“I had you moved to Irving Medical Center.”

That’s not what I want. I’m getting valuable experience at Harlem. “Okay.” My peers are going to eat me alive for this change. Resignation bubbles from my core. It’s not like I can change his mind.

Papa’s demeanor shifts and the hardness I’ve grown accustomed to seeing appears. Crap, I didn’t hide my irritation.

“This is my decision.”

“Yes, sir. I understand. I will go to my apartment and get my things and go to Cynric’s.”

He waves his hand. “It’s already done. Saxon took your things.”

I nod. I hope Saxon didn’t go through my things. Serve him right to find my dildo. I’m careful not to laugh and refocus on my guardian. “I’ll head to Cynric’s after class.”

“Please do.” He stands, then I stand. “I’d like for Cynric to rejoin the world.”

My brow peaks. “Not sure I can do anything to effect change with Cynric.”

His eyes narrow. “I’ll speak with you a couple times a week, and you can share how he’s doing.”

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