Page 11 of Bribed & Bred By the BRATVA
“I told you I would.”
I grip the rail. “I would marry you a thousand times if it kept him breathing.”
Something dark and satisfied moves through his eyes. He doesn’t touch me, and that restraint is worse than any pressure could be. “Good,” he says quietly.
The car ride back is a blur of light and shadow. The city passes and gives way to trees. Gates open. The house appears like a trick of light in shimmering glass and dull stone. I walk inside and don’t feel like an intruder. I feel like I am being placed exactly where I was meant to be.
In the living room there are books stacked on the table that I have wanted to read for years and never had the time to. Someone has been in here and made it softer.
I sit on the edge of the bed and lay my palm flat over my stomach. My body is quiet and loud at once. The ring flashes. It looks like it belongs there today.
I try the old words on my tongue.I am only here for Mateo. They crumble. The truth is a different shape. I am here because my brother is alive. I am here because I chose to stay. I am here because when Aleksei says a thing it becomes real and the part of me that has been carrying too much for too long wants to set it down where he tells me to.
I turn to face him. He fills the space without trying. “How are you?”
“Okay,” I say, and the word is not big enough. “Actually, much better.”
“Good.”
Silence stretches. It is not empty. It is full of everything we haven’t said. I think of the hospital air, bleach and metal and fear, and of the way that fear loosened its fingers when Aleksei stood behind me like a fixed point.
I lift my chin because I need to meet this part standing. “You said the next time you wouldn’t be gentle.”
“Yes,” he says.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks.
“I’m ready.”
His gaze darkens in a way that makes my knees weaker than any sleepless night ever did. He doesn’t reach for me. He doesn’t step over the threshold. He gives me the chance to change my mind but he must know I won’t take it.
His knuckles skim over my cheek before he hooks a finger under my chin and lifts it. “Tonight,” he says. His voice is soft and final.
Aleksei
<
She walks beside me down the hallway, her bare feet soundless against the polished floor. The pool outside glows blue through the glass, throwing fractured light across her skin. She doesn’t look at me, but her breathing gives her away. Shallow, quick, like she is bracing for a storm.
At the bedroom door she hesitates. I stop close enough that she can feel the heat of me, close enough that the air thickens between us.
Her lashes lower, hiding her eyes. But her pulse flutters in her throat, wild and desperate. She doesn’t step away when I reach for her hand and bring it to my chest, pressing her palm over the steady beat of my heart.
“Feel that,” I say. “I was certain the first time, and I’m certain now. Nothing’s changed. This is where you belong.”
Her lips part. The smallest sound escapes, something between defiance and surrender.
I push the door open and guide her inside.
The room glows soft in the lamplight. Last night, those sheets witnessed what paper and ink could not. Tonight, they’ll learn her body even better.
Her chin lifts, trembling but brave. “What if I want you to stop?”
“You won’t,” I say, because I know her body needs this more than she knows it herself. She needs the release, to let go of control and surrender to what I can give her.
I step closer, sliding my hands to her waist. Her breath hitches as my thumbs press against the fabric of her dress. Slowly, deliberately, I lower my mouth to hers.
