Page 26 of Bratva Past

Opening the book, he pointed and talked. “That is my mom, my dad, and that there is me. You will see it is outside of a launderette. That is what my family owned.”

“A launderette, but I thought your family had a garage? You mentioned your father was a mechanic, right?”

“My dad always wanted to be a mechanic, but you see, mechanics couldn’t always launder money.”

He saw the frown on her face. This was a past he wanted to keep buried, but there was no chance of that.

“My family found themselves struggling, and to try and make things work, they took a small loan from a man that was connected to the ... Rostova Bratva. There was no way my father would ever be able to make this payment, so he had no choice but to continue working for them. He cleaned their money. His shop was one of the places they used to clean money. I was his only son, but I was a troublemaker, and the Rostova Bratva saw my potential, as did my father. In the beginning, I was to be recruited as one of their soldiers.” He turned a page over and showed her images of himself as a boy. “I was sent to the Rostova Bratva to learn to become one of their soldiers, and I wanted to make my father proud. I did absolutely everything I could to earn their respect, and I was the best soldier. I was unlike anything they had ever seen.” He stopped because the truth was this was a bad memory. At the time, it had been amazing, and he’d been ready and prepared for anything.

“I worked my way from the ground up, and my parents were rewarded. Not monetarily, but they were kept working, and they were invited to parties. It was much later that I realized they were being mocked. While I was given money and rewards, my parents were brought as a reminder of what they were. I didn’t see that at the time. They were being disrespected, and when they had been used for all they were worth, the Rostova Bratva killed them.”

Lucy gasped. “What?”

“Yes, they killed my parents in cold blood, and my mother was already dead when I arrived at the scene. I held my father as he died in my arms, and he told me the biggest mistake he ever made was selling me to the Rostova Bratva. He didn’t sell me. He thought he was doing what was best for me, but ... we both knew it wasn’t. I had become a killer, Lucy. I killed for the Rostova Bratva. That, in the bar, was nothing. They all walked away. Sure, some of them had broken bones, lost teeth. I bruised their egos, but I’ve done all of that before and worse. I listened to orders to kill whoever they wanted me to kill. I didn’t ask questions. I just did. They thought by taking out my parents, they would have me at their side as their loyal dog. That I would do whatever they wanted.”

He turned the album pages, seeing pictures of his parents throughout his childhood, as he was growing, as he became part of the Rostova Bratva.

“Instead, they made me their worst enemy.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a heartfelt laugh. It was one filled with pain and anguish. He had lost his parents because of who he was. He had been trouble, and the Rostova Bratva saw the potential. His father had wanted to guide him as best he could.

“It took the Rostova Bratva decades to get to the place of power. They fought and people died, and they hurt a lot of people. Two weeks—that was all it took for every single person to be killed, and I did that, Lucy. That is my past. The reason I say my past is dead and will never come and haunt me is because I’m not wrong. I killed. I am a killer. That is what I do, it is what I am capable of. This is my past. I’m not proud of it, and once it was over, I left. I had already purchased this place, and then I got the mechanic shop. My dad’s wish was to always have a garage. He loved working on cars, and it was with a sense of irony that he opened a launderette. But it was a means to an end. One to fund the other. He never got that chance. This is me giving him what he wanted.”

He turned toward Lucy. “I know this is a lot to take in, and I’m giving you the chance to back away now before it’s too late. I love you, Lucy, and I do want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

****

Lucy stared out thewindow, not really seeing the view outside as her mind was filled with everything Isaac had told her. Her home was already occupied with a brand-new couple, and she had nowhere else to go. Not that she wanted any space away from him.

Isaac insisted on giving her time to think, to breathe. She had a feeling he was staying at his garage.

Running fingers through her hair, she stared out the window and wondered what he wanted her to think about.

So, his past life was dead. He’d killed everyone. His ink was a symbol of a life he was now ashamed of. He was part of a freaking Bratva, and they killed his family, so he killed them. The man she had seen at the bar—that was part of who he was.

“You look troubled.”

She turned to see Harry stepping into the kitchen. Most of the staff were out with the residents for their weekly shop.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Once again, her fear of cars held her back, but she wasn’t about to admit that. She offered him a smile. “You didn’t go shopping?”

“Not today, I just wasn’t in the mood. Also, it looks like you wanted to talk.”

Lucy offered him a smile. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” There was no one she could talk to about this.

Isaac had trusted her with this.

“Are you sure?”

She was about to tell Harry there was no need to worry, but as she turned to look at him, something just swept over her. “What if you learned something about someone, someone you cared about, and it ... changed everything?”

“Like what?”

“Like, who you thought they were, they weren’t, and they have a whole different past than the one you thought possible?”

“Does it affect who they are now?”

“Yes and no.”

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