Page 8 of Bratva Wolf

An older lady who looks like Red will look in forty years walks from the back of the house. “Oh.” She smiles at me. “And you are?”

I set Mrs. Abashin down on the sofa. “I’m Thane.”

“Good evening. I’m Mrs. Finerson.” Her eyes twinkle. “But you can call me Maria.” A hint of a Russian accent piques my interest. “I heard the shooting.” She looks around me. “Are you okay, Mrs. Abashin?”

Mrs. Abashin waves her hand from the sofa.

“How long have you lived here, Mrs… Maria?”

“Twenty-three years.”

My eyes pivot to Red who stands with her arms crossed. I don’t get the chance to engage her as my phone rings in my pocket.

“Yeah?”

“If you’re done flirting with the stripper, we need you.”

“Who are you leaving here?”

Saxon growls. “There’s four around the house.”

I end the call and smile at the women. “Mrs. Abashin. Should you need something, call.” My eyes scan Red as I nod at her grandmother. “Enjoy my pie.” I turn and walk out growling at the young soldier standing on the porch as I walk by on the way to the SUV idling at the curb. I notice Saxon’s scoldy look.

His arms cross his chest. “So, you and the stripper?”

A bomb explodes in my head as I jam my hands into my brother’s chest and pin him next to the vehicle door. “At what point did life change enough that you could ask me about my personal life?”

Saxon frowns. “It was a joke. You’re so damn touchy since you got back.”

“Leave me the fuck alone. You are forbidden to tell anyone anything about my relationship to her. Make up shit if you have to, but don’t you dare let on that you have any inkling she exists.” I glance over at my BMW that’s riddled with bullet holes as I pull my hands from him and open the door, climbing into the back seat. I don’t know which of my father’s men brought the SUV and the driver, but my position in the bratva has its privilege. The driver pulls away as my other brother, Roric, joins Saxon at the curb. I bark at the driver. “Take me to my penthouse.”

Chapter 3

SCARLET

I peek through the living room curtains as Thane gets into the SUV after words were exchanged with the other man. Well, this puts a whole new spin on our relationship. I roll my eyes, remembering his threat to spank my ass. Is fucking six times a relationship? The little voice in my head laughs. You went to his penthouse six times, but you screwed him a dozen times. I smirk. “More.”

“Scarlet?”

“Coming.” I walk back into the kitchen to four wide eyes staring at me. I swallow and wish I could teleport elsewhere. “Um. What just happened?”

Mrs. Abashin shrugs. “I think I saw something I shouldn’t have, and some people are worried I might tell the authorities. I think it best we all forget about this evening.”

I’ll chalk it up to the many things I’ve heard at the club about the Bravikov Bratva and all the men involved. My mind is running through the many illegal things I’ve heard, and I’m distracted as I pivot my attention back to the women.

Mrs. Abashin smirks. “Have you met Thane?”

“Uh. I think maybe.”

I move to busy myself in the kitchen to avoid my grandmother’s piercing gaze.

“Scarlet?”

My head flicks up to my grandmother’s stressed voice. “Yes?”

“There are certain men you should avoid.”

A look transpires between the older women. “What aren’t you telling me?”

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