Page 52 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

“He didn’t ask me to go to prom with him,” I reply. “He actually avoided me altogether afterward.”

The brothers exchange glances. Part of this story is missing. A part that hasn’t come to me, yet. “Your father didn’t want you dating,” Booker cuts in. “We were just looking out for you at the time. Aleks was busy that day, but he asked us to keep an eye on you over the weekend. It just so happened that Otis worked up the nerve to ask you out that afternoon.”

“My father was overprotective, wasn’t he?”

Chance nods once. “Perhaps a little too much, but Aleks respected that. He emulated that, actually. They were both overprotective. But it was their way of keeping you safe.”

“Mom was never happy with the way I looked,” I sigh deeply.

“Just some old Eastern European crap she brought over when they moved to New York,” Nico says. “You were always a beautiful girl, Anya.”

“But fat,” I mutter, gradually losing my appetite as more and more distressful moments come back to haunt me. “She used to pick on me for the way my dresses fit. She’d pick wide, flared pants and skirts to cover my rolls of fat.”

“Anya, listen to me,” Chance says, squeezing my hand. “You are and always have been authentic and beautiful. It’s not the size of your clothes that makes you special, and that’s something your mother never understood, because she, too, was constantly chastised about her figure. She carried that with her and projected it onto you through no fault of your own.”

A gasp escapes my throat as dark words echo in the back of my head.

“You should be thankful I settled for you,” the man said.

God, the words cut deep.

The man with dark hair and cold blue eye, like Max’s.

And then I find myself sitting in the tearoom with Aleks. Chance, Booker, and Nico have joined us. I’m so excited. Still miffed about Otis, but I put that behind me. I care too much about them to be mad for too long.

“Anya?” Nico’s voice calls out to me.

I’m slipping deeper into the memory.

I’ve got a firm grasp of this particular scene. I feel as though I’m watching a scene from a movie I’ve already seen.

“Give her a moment,” I hear Chance whisper. “I think she’s remembering something.”

The Hayes brothers take their seats, and my brother is wearing a fine, custom-tailored suit. He looks so much like our father. He’s working hard to rise up to his level, to his aesthetic. Deep down, I’m disappointed, but it’s the way of our world. He just stopped fighting it.

“He gave up on the Navy,” I mumble, “to come back and work for Dad, to take over. And his first order of business was to reach out to the three of you as soon as you were honorably discharged.”

“Come work for me,” Aleks told them. “Head our security detail. Your experience, your knowledge, your expertise. I’ve seen your value, firsthand. You guys would strengthen the Asimovs to the point where not even Leo Sokolov would have the balls to take us on.”

“And you promised him you would think about it,” I add. “You didn’t sound enthusiastic about the whole deal, though. The pay was more than attractive. It would’ve set the three of you up for life. You could’ve bought three towns like Seeley Lake.”

My eyes open, and I take a deep breath as I look around at the dinner table. The Hayes brother sit quietly, Chance’s hand still firmly holding mine.

“You said no,” I whisper.

“He warned us there was a war coming,” Nico says. “We knew what a civil war within the Bratva might look like, and we knew that if word got out that Aleks had hired Navy SEAL muscle, it would only rile the Sokolovs more.”

“We advised him on ways to defuse the situation,” Booker adds. “For awhile, we thought he was on the right track.”

I give him a curious look. “He was afraid of Leo Sokolov, Max’s brother, right?”

“Yes,” Chance admits. “But Aleks wasn’t afraid of Leo himself. He was afraid of what Leo would do if he didn’t get his way.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“Leo is a psychopath,” Chance says. “And your father tried to broker a peace with the guy. He wanted to align their syndicates, to project strength and unity to the rest of the Bratva.”

“The Asimovs’ tradition and history, the Sokolovs’ tenacity and influence,” Nico says. “It made sense. But the terms and conditions they agreed upon were faulty, and when Aleks earned a seat at the table, he worked hard to convince your father to renegotiate.”

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