Page 36 of The Bratva's Plus-Size Bride

Do I? Am I? Kind of. I think the idea of a business so complex hits something in my brain just right—a challenge I want to take on.

“Hey, Boss?” A man clears his throat behind us. He’s young, maybe mid-twenties, with tired eyes and an easy smile. “Just got a call from my kid’s school. He’s in the nurse’s room with some kind of stomach thing. Mind if I take off early?”

Just a regular man with a family, making a living down here. It’s hard to, even seeing it in action, accept that the place isn’t staffed entirely by hardened criminals. Apart from the guards at the doorways—armed and muscled to the teeth—it’s just regular people.

Anton agrees readily. “Of course, Henry. I hope he’s alright. Let me know if you need tomorrow off, okay? We’ve got more than enough coverage.”

Even though I know Anton better than that by now, I still expected something out of the mafia movies. Maybe a backhand before he sent the man back to the packing line, a threat of what he’d do to the kid if he didn’t get back to work. Definitely not a first-name basis and kindness. And it seems like that’s what Henry expected, too. There was no more than the usual amount of deference one would give to their boss. No fear. Just respect.

Once Henry takes off, Anton takes me into the break room and buys us both a candy bar from the vending machine.

“So, what do you think?” He takes a bite of his and sits down on the arm of one of the chairs. “Is it everything you thought it would be?”

I nibble on mine and think my answer through before responding. “In some ways. The scary guards by the door? Exactly what I was picturing. Did you order them straight from the military? They look like they chew nails for breakfast.”

“They’re not so bad once you get to know them,” he says, laughing. “But they look like brutes. Of everyone down here, they’ve got the stressful job of keeping them all safe.”

“So they’re not there to enforce your rules if anyone starts acting up?”

He pops the last bite of chocolate into his mouth and chews before responding. “They will if they have to. I’m not going to hide that from you. But that’s only if shit really went down. Anything else is just a regular workplace incident, handled by the manager or yours truly. We don’t punish people for having an issue with their job, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It was, and his answer is comforting. As hard as I try, it’s difficult to reconcile this Anton with the cold, brutal Anton from the hotel. He’s respected and respectful, kind and hardworking, protective. But he’s also ruthless, capable of deceit, and running an illegal business. I can’t have just one side of him. Right now, he’s showing me who he is. Can I accept all of him?

I curl up in one of the armchairs. It’s been a seriously long day, and the mainline of coffee from earlier is starting to wear off. The chocolate is giving me a sugar boost, but I know a crash is coming if I don’t get some real food in me soon.

In his way, Anton seems to pick up on that. He’s as tuned in to me as I am to him. “Now I’ve done what you asked and let you into my world, the good, the bad, the ugly. Do I deserve a reward?”

My cheeks warm. He can’t be thinking of that right here, right now. “What sort of reward?”

He smirks, reading my mind, and my blush deepens. He knows exactly what’s doing. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight. We’ve been at this office way too long, and I’m ready to get the hell out of here, but I’m not ready to be apart from you.”

I inhale, as that’s not what I expected, and I wasn’t prepared for it. It’s a step further than I thought I’d take today, just letting him show me around. This is a step toward allowing him back in, and I’m not quite sure I’m ready for that.

My stomach growls in disagreement, loud enough for Anton to hear. So much for my argument that I’m not hungry.

“Fine, but just dinner,” I say, waving a threatening finger at him. “And nothing romantic. I want the most unromantic place you can find. Got it?”

He holds up his hand in a pledge. “Scout’s honor. I know just the place.”

Anton goes to grab the car, and I watch the workers from the break room doorway, stepping aside when a woman walks by to get a cup of coffee. Just like any other job, they clock in, take breaks, and clock out at the end of the day. But I know there’s more to the Bratva world than just this—a much darker side. Before I can begin to trust Anton again, he’ll have to show me that, too.

Chapter 19 - Anton

It goes against my instincts to choose a decidedly unromantic place to take Ella. All I want to do is spoil her, and that means bringing her to the best spots in the city. Luckily, I know a place that serves amazing food in a casual, pub-like atmosphere, so that’s where we are heading.

After the shitshow at the hotel, I didn’t think I’d ever have her in my car again, but here she is, sitting beside me. I can barely keep my eyes on the road. God, she’s gorgeous. Every thought in my mind is of her, and I don’t give a damn if that’s unhealthy; that’s just how it is. She’s everything to me.

I screech to a stop at a red light I definitely didn’t notice and throw her an apologetic smile when she thumps back against her seat.

“I thought you were a good driver,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. She let it loose when we left the office, and the whole car is filled with the scent of her shampoo. I hope it lingers for days.

“I am,” I say, thinkingwhen I’m looking at the road and not at you.“We stopped in time, didn’t we?”

She shakes her head, but she can’t hide the hint of a smile that makes my stomach flip. I’m so hopeless for this girl. Any time I can make her smile or laugh, it’s like a hit from the best drug in the universe.

We get out at the pub, and I let the valet park my car because I’m not stepping away from Ella for even a second. I’m armed and wary, searching every face we pass because it doesn’t matter that the last attack happened in another city—they could be anywhere. The Abashins are looking for trouble, and they’ll be pissed that I took out four of their men, so it’s just a matterof time before they strike back. When they do, I’ll be ready for them.

“This is exactly what I wanted,” Ella beams, stopping to admire the kitschy decor.

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