Page 2 of Plus-Size Bratva Bride

Amber bites at her lower lip. She scrunches her nose and sighs loudly.

“If—and I really meanifyou can pull this off—it will be a good plan. But I just don’t see someone like Radmir Kuznetsov being willing to help some random girl for no reason.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ll be too pretty to resist. He will take one look at me and his masculine urge to be a protector will overtake all of his logical senses.” I chuckle, brushing my hand beneath my chin and pretending to strike a model pose.

Amber rolls her eyes and giggles.

Then we all fall silent for a moment. Every time we laugh we remember him, and that we’ve lost him. It’s like the guilt is too heavy when we laugh. Guilt because he can’t laugh, too.

It sits so heavily in the air, every moment of every day, that it consumes me. I want my brother back. But I can’t have him back. So, I want revenge.

When I glance at Amber, she is brushing a tear off her cheek. She feels his death as heavily as each of us does. We all miss him.

“I think it might work. And if it doesn’t—at least we tried,” she says quietly.

“And besides, we might get lucky and Radmir just gets shot in the tiff and gets what he deserves,” Malkov says.

“No!” I shout in horror. “He doesn’t deserve a quick death. He deserves something slow. He deservespain. So much pain. Like the pain he’s left us with. A type of pain that eats away at you every day for the rest of your life. He took Grigor from us. He has to suffer for that, Malkov. He can’t get shot. It’stoo easy.” Tears are streaming down my face now. Tears for my little brother. He was only twenty-one. He was just three years younger than me. He didn’t deserve to die. He had so much life and so much still to give.

Blackness churns deep in my heart.

Anger and resentment towards Radmir Kuznetsov.

Bitterness that might only be dispelled through this revenge. But somehow, I think even revenge won’t take the pain from my heart.

At least we will have our own kind of justice.

I wipe the tears away angrily with the back of my hand. I hate crying. Crying feels weak. I’d rather be out there doing something about it than in here sniveling like a useless little girl.

I’m anything but useless.

I’m the fire that is going to rip that murderer's life apart. I’m going to burn it all down. Everything he cares about.

Malkov tilts his head back and downs the last of his vodka.

“Do it,” he says sternly. “Do whatever you want to do and let me know if you need any help.”

“I’m going to meet with Andrei this afternoon to finalize things and check if the Enzos are willing to help. They did indicate that they were interested, but I want to set it in stone. I think it’s best if you two stay out of it because I don’t want you recognized. I’m going to give Radmir a fake name, obviously.”

Amber stands up and walks over to the bar. When she turns around and walks back to us she is carrying three shots of vodka. She hands one to Malkov and one to me.

“For Grigor,” she says, looking me dead in the eyes, her mouth stiff with emotion. She’s fighting tears, her eyes glittering with the strain of it.

“For Grigor,” I nod, my stomach flipping excitedly.

“For Grigor,” Malkov says.

We chime our glasses together and then all throw the shots back at the same time.

The alcohol burns my throat and I pull a face. I’m not really a fan of vodka, but being from a Bratva family that was something I was never allowed to tell anyone. I grin and touch my fingers to my lips. Excitement burns through me.

I can’t believe they finally agreed to my plan.

It would never have worked if they weren’t on board, too.

Now I can put everything into action as soon as possible.

I’ve already waited too long. My little brother has been dead for almost five months now. The time has finally come.

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