Page 13 of Bratva Wolf

“I’ll probably go into Emergency Care.”

I nod. “Where?” She’s good at dodging my earlier inquiry.

“I have to go to the business office and give them the money for the winter semester.”

Chapter 4

THANE

I hold the door open to my brother’s penthouse and let my father’s ward, Isabella, walk through the door. My fondness for Isabella is waning. She came to stay with my father when she was twelve, when we saved her from her mother’s latest boyfriend. She’d grabbed her mother’s cell phone and dialed my father’s number. He’d told her if she ever needed help to call, and she was smart enough to pay attention after her father died. That night, my father became her guardian. It was the least my father could do. Isabella’s father was my mother’s stepbrother and spent his life supporting our Pakhan and our bratva.

It’s late evening, and I’ve ignored her the entire drive from the hospital where she works to here. It’s insane that I’m a bodyguard for the obnoxious nymph. Why the fuck did my father move her from her apartment in Harlem in her last year of medical school to my brother’s penthouse?

She strikes a pose with her hand on her hip. “Tell Cynric you don’t want to babysit me.”

I grit my teeth. “Yeah. Sure, tell my father’s heir that I decline to do the job he’s given me.” Fuck. “That’s not how this works.”

“Well, I can say that, this.” She shifts her body and rotates her hand between us. “This doesn’t work.” She sets her backpack on the bench by the front door and moves into the kitchen. She calls out over her shoulder. “I’m sure there’s someone who wants to move up in the bratva that wouldn’t mind watching after me.”

I groan as I follow her into the kitchen, grabbing a seat on a bar stool. “Cynric seems to give a shit about your safety. I don’t know why Papa doesn’t just give you to someone.”

She snorts with a snarky look. “Suggest that to your brother.”

The door opens as Saxon calls out. “Hey, Izzy. Make me a sandwich.”

She chuckles. “Don’t let him hear you call me, Izzy.”

Saxon snorts. “Ha. He’s in New Jersey.”

An icy feeling of dread spikes up my spine as my eyes widen. “Why is he in New Jersey?”

Isabella raises her knife covered in mayo. “Aguilar or something.”

Fuck. I stand, knocking the bar stool backward, cursing in Russian as I stare at Saxon. “We need to go.”

Saxon shakes his head. “She can’t be alone.”

I throw my hand towards Isabella. “Why the fuck not?” I glare at her. “What the fuck do you have that’s so fucking important to my brother?”

Saxon lowers his voice. “His son in her belly.”

My eyes bug out and shame slams into me like a bucket of cold water. “Well, fuck.” I step back, stunned at the thought of my brother’s child. “Congrats.”

She’s finishing her sandwich as she dismisses us like the queen of the castle. “You should both go. Who’s going to get past the enforcer in the lobby and the one at the elevator?”

My brother and I stare at each other. We don’t need words to debate our options as I turn to my brother’s baby mama. “Don’t leave the penthouse.”

She nods. “I won’t.”

We run out the penthouse door as I grab the young enforcer. “No one goes in, and no one comes out. Stay alert, and if you fuck up, I’ll slit your throat.”

We don’t wait for him to respond as the elevator door opens.

Saxon sighs. “We need to call Papa.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket.

“What?” Irritation drips in his tone.

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