Page 57 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
I leaned in, fingers tapping on the table’s surface for emphasis. “The attack was not proof of my husband’s incompetence. It only proved that someone out there wanted him dead.”
Silence.
“The enemy struck hard. Yet, he’s still standing here. Unharmed. Does that sound like weakness to you?” I threw the question at them.
The tension in the room was palpable, and I believed the only reason I was still breathing was the power of the Tarasovs. Plus the fact that my husband was in the room.
Congratulations, girl, you managed to piss them off.
I continued, regardless of the sneers on their faces, “You’re channeling your energy in the wrong direction. You should be more concerned about finding the man behind the attack instead of blaming my husband for incompetence.”
My words hung heavy in the air, a deafening silence settling in the room. I’d said my piece and gotten it off my chest. Whatever they chose to do with that information was entirely up to them.
A few Elders exchanged glances, their sharp expressions softening slightly, not out of warmth, but out of respect for my composure. At least, that’s what I thought.
Lev said nothing, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught the flicker of approval in the way his shoulders eased by a fraction.
Satisfied with the reaction I received, I leaned back in my chair, arms across my chest.
One of the Elders said something in Russian, and Lev quietly replied. The men discussed in their native language. And while they were at that, I sat in their midst—proudly the only woman in the room whose voice could command the attention of men like this.
***
Later that night, I stood on the balcony, the night breeze cool against my skin. Below, the city spread out like a blanket of shadows and lights, the distant wailing of a siren drifting through the air.
My manicured fingers wrapped around the railing as I drew a deep breath, eyes fixed on the full moon overhead. It hung heavy and bright, its ethereal glow silvering everything it touched.
I stood there under the moonlight, my sheer lace chemise clinging to my frame as I tried to process the shift in my emotions. The fact that I’d challenged those devils in suits simply because they disrespected Lev was something I still didn’t understand.
It was one thing to develop an unusual liking for him, but defending him in front of dangerous men was a completely different matter altogether. How did I end up here? How did I go from wishing him misfortune to helping him avoid it?
I combed my fingers through my wavy hair, rolling my neck in a massaging motion. For the first time, the chains of his last name felt less like binding and more like threads tying us together.
The scent of his cologne drifted into my nose, hinting at his presence. I could tell he was standing behind me even though he had not spoken. I felt his gaze linger on me longer than usual because he believed I was unaware of him.
“I know you’re there, Lev,” I said without turning to look at him. “I can smell your cologne.”
He didn’t respond, but I heard the sound of his approaching footsteps, slow and deliberate. Lev stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the horizon with one hand in his pocket.
For the next few seconds, it was silent between us, the city beneath buzzing with life. Not too long ago, each time I stood atthis exact spot in the house, I’d miss my old life—my friends and the world I left behind. But now, I was starting to accept my new reality.
This was my new home. The sooner I came to terms with that, the better.
“It never gets old,” he said, breaking the silence. “The view.” He stole a glance at me.
“It’s breathtaking,” I answered. “I can almost see the whole city from up here.”
He paused for a while. “This is my favorite spot. I come out here to think, clear my head.”
“Ah-ah, buddy,” I teased, turning to face him, my lips curling to a faint grin. “This might’ve been your favorite spot, but it’s mine now. Stick to your study. Nobody’s taking that from you.”
He raised his brows, his expression softening by a whisper. “So that’s how it is now.”
“Yep.” I beamed at him—didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help myself.
My eyes swept over his body, stripped from the waist upward. The sight of his chiseled abs and broad torso left me almost breathless, as though this was the first time I was seeing him shirtless. I drank in his masculinity, and just like that, a familiar warmth spread across my body.
“What’re you doing out here anyway?” I asked, attempting to fill the awkward silence.
