Page 74 of Trapped By the Bratva

And you are.

“But Erik killed his uncle out of nothing but spite. Lev Avilov wasn’t ruining the Avilov name. He was quite successful with it, and Erik wanted that power for himself.”

That was the difference between the men. My brother wasn’t power hungry and I doubted he ever would be. Erik was, and I wondered if his reputation would simply catch up to him and end him before I could. Selfish men never lasted long in the world of syndicated crime families. Someone got them and made them pay, sooner or later.

“Will you still tell me if and when a location has been found on Avilov?” I asked. I hadn’t put him on the spot like this yet, not since he started talking about letting the Feds handle the man.

“Yes,” he replied. “I understand that your vendetta isn’t something that any of us can talk you out of. If I had been in your position, I would be feeling the same about killing my torturer.”

“Thank you.” I nodded once in acknowledgment.

“But—”

I chuckled. “You fucker.”

“But,” he repeated. “I wouldn’t let you go after him alone, not while you’re still regaining your strength.”

“Fair enough.” I pointed at him. “So long as I have free rein to pay him back in kind.”

“Of course. I doubt you’ll get your damn closure without it.”

He did understand me, after all. I left his office feeling content about the situation.

Hannah was waiting for me near a car, and I laughed at how amazed and awkward she acted about having a driver in a tinted car.

“I feel like a princess or something,” she gushed.

I tugged her closer and kissed her hard. “I’m going to spoil the fuck out of you, girl.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and smiled. “Really?”

I nodded. “Especially with my cock.”

“I can’t wait.”

The car stopped, though, jarring us from this flirty business. We got out at the first property and toured it quickly. The second we walked inside, I knew it wouldn’t work. Too small. Weird dimensions in the rooms.

“How come you don’t want to go through an agent?” Hannah asked as we drove to the next place I’d put on my list. That was half the fun we’d had with this already, lying in bed last night and scrolling real estate sites.

“Because I don’t want to deal with someone pushing something on me.”

“Stubborn,” she agreed. “To a fault.”

“You know it,” I agreed easily.

The next place was a better fit, but Hannah seemed to nitpick about enough details that I assumed she disliked it. Even though this was new between us, I was vested in her and what we could build between us. If she didn’t like it, then it wasn’t good for us.

By the time we reached the fifth place, I realized I was having fun with this. My ankle bothered me, but not so much that I hated being out and about. With Hannah, I didn’t care if anyone glanced twice at my scarred face or missing fingers. No one else’s opinions mattered. If she wanted me the way I was, that was all I needed.

As we checked out the next property, I was struck with how domestic it was to do this activity with her. It was all too easy to picture her in the kitchen, cooking dinners with me. Or the master bedrooms, where we’d undress and fall into bed together. I wasn’t looking for a place to move out to, but a home to move into with her.

Throughout the day, she was happy and peppy, quick to counter my complaints with mentions of positives, always eager to look at the bright side of things. Those elusive silver linings.

Shewas my silver lining, and I’d never take that for granted.

At moments, she seemed uneasy, and that snagged my attention. It wasn’t anything significant, but she’d frown or look away, awkward about something on her mind. The only thing I could think of was her reluctance to join my family. To become one of the Bratva with us. I had to wonder if she would ever truly get used to being a woman connected to a criminal organization, and I contemplated how I could convince her that it was worth it. That my family was worth it. ThatIwas worth any hardships she’d suffer in adjusting to our lifestyle.

It didn’t help that she was so young. She was naïve in so many ways but smarter in even more. Living under her sister’s manipulation and abuse, Hannah had been forced to mature and grow up quickly. Her ignorance, and what seemed like hermain discomfort, likely stemmed from fitting in with the kinds of people the world would be quick to label as “bad”.

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