Page 33 of The Bratva's Plus-Size Bride

He nods, and something in me breaks just a little because I wasn’t ready for him to let me go. “If that’s what you want,” he repeats. “Just know, Ella, that you’ll always have a place here. With me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut before the tears can overrun them and spin on my heel, fleeing the room. Another moment there with him and I’d crumble, change my mind, and end up scared for my life and his all over again. I just know there’s no other choice.

“Ella,” he calls when I reach the door. “Take the car home, please.”

I don’t answer because my throat is choked with tears. But I do as he says.

Chapter 17 - Anton

“Walk me through it again,” I insist, knowing I’m probably driving Anya insane with these demands, but honestly, she can join the club because ever since Ella left, I’ve felt pretty insane myself.

“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes, but I must look really pathetic because she indulges me. Or maybe it’s because I piled a lifetime supply of sour candy onto her lap the moment she walked in the door. I’m not above bribes. “Fine. I went over because it was pretty obvious she’d be shaken up after everything went down.”

I sit back on the couch and close my eyes. I’m not sober. Don’t think I have been since Ella left, and this is the closest I can get to her right now—through a story from my sister. Pathetic.

“Then I told her how there’s more to Bratva than crime. That’s about family. Trust. Pride. That the violence is one aspect of it, yes, but that you’ve always kept me safe.”

“And she felt better after that?” I lean forward, elbows on my knees, because after seeing how scared Ella was in the aftermath of the fight, I can’t imagine it. Can’t imagine her ever coming back to me again. If Anya somehow managed that, I’ll make her the queen of the Milov family.

“Well, no, obviously it took a lot more than that,” Anya scoffs like I’m a total idiot. “I talked about what it’s really like when your hotel isn’t getting broken into by a bunch of scary men, and I talked about you. Because, for some reason, she’s kind of into you. Guess she doesn’t know any better. I tried to sell her on a cousin or two, but she didn’t go for it.”

“You’d better hope not,” I warn her, but my glare bounces off of her because she’s my little sister and completely immune to anything her older brother might have to throw at her. A lifetime spent with the men of the Milov family made rubber out of her. “What did you say?”

She throws an empty candy wrapper at me. It flutters ineffectually to the floor a foot away from my shoe. “You’re so egotistical. I don’t even want to tell you because it’s going to go straight to your head.”

“Anya.” I wave my hands in a get on with it gesture.

“Fine,” she relents at last, “but only because you look so pathetic right now that I actually feel sorry for you. She’s got it bad for you, alright? I don’t know why, but it’s pretty obvious she’s head over heels. So I went with that angle, too. Told her you’re a protector, that you wouldn’t let her get hurt, as evidenced by the scene in the hotel.”

Except that was way too close for comfort. The men never should have even gotten into the room in the first place, but that’s on me for not teaching Ella about basic safety. Better to be considered paranoid than to be found dead. If she comes back, and it’s a big fucking if, I’m going to teach her everything she needs to know and then some, because that’s what I should’ve done in the first place. I never should’ve trusted her innocence to act as a shield, and I’ll never forgive myself for putting her at risk.

Anya goes on. “I added in that, of course, I’d be there with her too. I don’t think she has many friends, you know. She moved out here with basically nothing and doesn’t know anyone, so she basically has no support system.”

Don’t I know it. I’m all too aware of how Ella lives, and I hate it. It’s one of the many things that will change if she comes back to me.

“But now she has you,” I prompt her, hoping she’ll get to the part where Ella says she’s changed her mind about resigning. And about me.

“She has me,” Anya repeats, twirling her finger around in front of her face. “What more does she need? I’ll show her the city, introduce her to some of my friends, and she’ll be feeling at home in time. I think she’s going to give it a chance.”

“I owe you,” I tell her, ready to give her the moon even if it’s just a chance that Ella walks through my door again. “You’ve saved me, seriously.”

“Don’t get all gooey on me,” Anya says, wrinkling her nose and popping another sour worm into her mouth. “I did it for Ella. I know how crazy this life is, but I can’t imagine being a stranger to it and going through what she went to. She’s soft, you know that, right? She’s not made for this.”

Her tone is suddenly serious, and she looks older than her years. For the first time, I see her as an adult, not just my little sister, and I can tell she’s going to be formidable. Watch out, world.

“I know,” I say, rolling my shoulders away from my ears. It’s part of what drew me to Ella, after all. “But there’s more to her than that softness. In business, she’s made of steel. I think she can hack it.”

“Do you? Or are you just in love with her and unable to let her go?”

The question, laid bare like that, hits me like a slap. Am I being selfish? If I let Ella go, let her return to her normal life,she’ll be safer than she is with me. No matter how well I protect her, there will always be a target on her just because she’s tied to my family. There’s a flip side to that, though. I’ve seen the life Ella lives on her own, and it’s not pretty, not the life she deserves. I can give her more than that.

It’s the question that’s kept me up at night basically since meeting Ella, but it’s never been more pertinent than now.

“Maybe it’s both.”

One of Anya’s arched brows lifts. “So you admit it. You love her.”

I haven’t even said it out loud to Ella yet so I’m sure as shit not going to say it to my sister first. “Mind your business. Don’t you have somewhere you need to be? A party or something?”

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