Page 96 of Bratva's Vow
I trailed my hand over the curve of his back, then lower, resting lazily on his hip as he traced idle patterns along my chest.
“Can I ask you something?”
I turned my head, brushed my lips against his temple. “You can ask me anything.”
“Your family. How did you… end up in the Mafia? Are you okay talking about it?”
I was quiet for a beat. Then I nodded.
“It’s not a secret. My father’s Bratva. Old-school. Still in Russia. He always expected I’d take over the organization someday. I grew up in that world of violence, power, and loyalty. Everything was about the family.”
Wren looked up at me through heavy lashes, listening intently.
“But I liked boys,” I said flatly. “And back there, in our circles, that was a death sentence.”
His fingers stilled on my chest.
“My father caught me. It was… bad. He would’ve killed me if my mother hadn’t intervened. She smuggled me out of the country. Sent me here to stay with Vova.”
Wren’s voice was soft, cautious. “Wow. Really?”
“Yup, Vova helped me out a lot at first. I didn’t know the language, the culture. It took some getting used to.”
“Oh. So Vova’s Bratva too?”
“No, Vova cut ties with the family business when he fled for the same reason I did.”
“Why didn’t you do like Vova and start over? Leave it all behind?”
I let out a low breath, my gaze fixed on the ceiling. His question was valid, but I wished he hadn’t asked it.
“Being a thug was all I ever knew. I was angry. Homeless. Sleeping on Vlad’s couch with nothing but hatred in my chest and too much pride to bag groceries. I wanted to prove my father wrong. Wanted to show him I could be better than he ever was. Without needing him.”
Wren’s fingers moved again, slower now. “Did it work?”
“Yes.” I looked down at him. “I’ve surpassed everythinghe’s ever accomplished, and not just from being in the mob. I’m not a good guy, Wren. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of to be where I am. Vile things. You have to when you’re working your way up in this business to earn respect. But I earned my place. Made smart moves. Took risks. Stayed loyal. And I built something without blood ties. Just with the men who I trust here. It wasn’t easy to do, but I was determined.”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just watched me, thoughtful and open and so fucking present like every word I said was important.
“And no one knows what you do?” he asked finally.
“Plenty suspect. Few ask. I don’t brag. The people who need to know, know. The rest?” I shrugged. “I keep clean. Public face, clean books. If something gets messy, I’ve got brigadiers for that. I prefer it that way. Quiet. Effective.”
He smiled faintly. “Let me guess. Money talks?”
I chuckled. “Louder than most men. Once you have enough of it, there’s very little you can’t buy.”
He shifted closer, resting his chin on my chest. “I see.”
Did he?
I brushed his hair back. “That’s why I noticed you that first day in the café. You didn’t care that I was some rich asshole. You stole my coffee and told me off. To think I would have missed you if I hadn’t been impatient for Archie to get out of a meeting and fetch my coffee.”
He grinned. “That’s what gets your motor running, huh?”
“Still jerk off to it.”
He laughed and shook his head, burying his face against the side of my neck. “But you wouldn’t have missed me. I would have been here as an intern anyway. I think fate was determined for us to meet.”
