Page 24 of My Bratva Dom

I drag my fingers through my hair and kick off the blankets.

Time for an emergency sisters meeting.

I throw on a robe and rush down the hall, then pause outside Marie and Viktor’s door.

What if they’re… busy?

“Coming in!” I announce loudly as I knock, because I value my eyeballs.

Marie’s tucked into Viktor’s chest, looking miserable. Her eyes crack open when I walk in.

“Tina.” She sounds like death.

Poor baby.

“Just checking in,” I say softly.

She tries to sit up, but Viktor’s arm clamps around her body like a vise.

“She’s sick. Leave,” he grumbles, his eyes sending me daggers.

My grin widens when it dawns on me. “Still feeling queasy?” My poor sister has been feeling off for days now. At first, I thought it was just because her guy was away. But after Vik’ returned and her “symptoms” persisted…

I look around the room until my eyes land on a notepad and a pen lying on the desk.

Marie watches me with her brow furrowed.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Taking care of something,” I reply with a wink.

Her eyes narrow like she can smell trouble, so I flash her my most innocent smile.

“Want some tea? Crackers? A bucket?” I tease.

She groans and face-plants into Viktor’s broad, tatted chest. “I want a body transplant.”

I chuckle.

I’m halfway to the door when she pipes up again.

“Tina, seriously, leave Aslan alone today. He’s being extra murder-y.”

I wave her off. “Please. I can handle Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

Her muffled groan follows me down the hall.

I find Aslan lurking by the stairs, looking like a thundercloud in human form.

He’s standing there in dark jeans and a black Henley that clings to every ridge of muscle on his wide chest. His hair’s pushed back from his face, making his cut cheekbones pop. Blue eyes locked on mine. And for a second, I’m right back to last night… his hands all over me, inside me. His mouth, hot and demanding, the way he growled my name when I…

Focus, girl!

But he’s so fucking hot. All that power wrapped up in six-plus feet of pure, raw alpha maleness. The kind of man who can break someone in half without even breaking a sweat, and wrecked me ten times to Sunday.

Aslan’s face is tight. His large hands flexed at his sides.

When his gaze flicks over my body, something dark flashes in hiseyes. Like he’s remembering too…

---