Page 14 of Beautiful Broken Obsession

His honesty hits hard. I take a deep breath as I move my rice noodles around. “I’m sorry about the way I reacted to you telling me your family trafficked. That wasn’t fair to you.”

Yellow meets mine and holds. “It was and it wasn’t. I accepted it because it is what I was raised with. My father started me into our life young. As a young boy I was raised with the identity of Bratva. By twelve I was sitting in with him during business. At fifteen I was handling business. I trusted we were doing what was right for us. After all, we were not the only ones doing it. For years I handled drug and weapons shipments, but I never handled human cargo. The day I did I experienced the same horror you showed me. I should not have accepted it simply because it was done for so long. Just because we could doesn’t mean we should.”

I see it in his eyes, he means it. I long to touch him to soothe his turmoil.

“That was the last shipment we ever handled. Here in Chicago and in Philadelphia where my brothers operate, we do not deal in trafficking and we do not work with those who do. While my uncle and cousins do in New York, we do not do business with them. Even with the connections they have I could use, I refuse.” His deep smoky voice wraps around me. I couldn’t look away from him if I wanted to—and I don’t want to.

“It’s hard to go against family, against how you are raised. Even if it doesn’t feel right, the fear of losing them if you even question it isn’t easy.” I sigh as I move my noodles around.

A ghost of a smile. “I can’t see you accepting anything just because it’s how it’s always been done.”

Blushing, I shrug. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Another smile that turns my whole body hot and achy. “It is. To you and your nonna.”

Laughing, I nod. “Nonna would love that compliment. My nonna—Carlo’s mother was the person who raised me and my sister. Almost all my good memories are of her. I still miss her deeply even though she’s been dead for more than three years.”

“Your mother…” Milos Levin unsure, I doubt it happens often.

“My mother wasn’t a mother, so much so until I was six I thought Nonna was my mother. Nonna lived in the house across the street, she refused to live with Carlo so he bought it for her. When my mother became pregnant it didn’t matter Carlo wasn’t married, he wouldn’t marry her. He put her here so my nonna could be near her grandkids and help my mother. It became way more than helping. My mother woke us up, got us breakfast, took us to school, then after school we didn’t see her again until we woke up. We fell asleep in our rooms at my grandmother’s house and spent all our waking time there even in the summer.” I shrug.

“What happened when you were six?” The question is soft, like his eyes.

How did he know something happened? “Why do you ask?”

An eyebrow goes up as if to say of course he knew something happened. “Because you saiduntil you were six. What happened for you to learn otherwise?”

I shouldn’t be surprised he doesn’t miss a thing. “Nonna and my sister were in a car accident. My little sister was hurt really badly I don’t remember everything, but she was in the hospital for several weeks. Thankfully Nonna only broke her arm, but it wasn’t easy for her to get around. She was upset my mother didn’t go visit Carina in the hospital. They fought and I heard Nonna say she wasn’t even our mother, and when was my mother going to do her duty to us?”

Suddenly Carina is home. I almost cry at the loss of the time alone with Milos.

Her eyes are wide as she looks from me to Milos. “Sorry.”

“What are you doing home?” I can’t believe she’s here.

“Client didn’t realize I was still in high school. He was an asshole and thought I couldn’t handle the job because of my age. I’ll leave you two alone,” she mumbles.

He stands, offering his hand. “Milos Levin, please do not leave on my account.”

Carina stares at his hand, but doesn’t move to take it.

His phone goes off, and he stiffens. “One moment please.” Answering the phone, he crosses to the other side of the room.

Eyeing him with fear, Carina spits out, “I’ll be in my room.” In seconds, she’s in her room, nearly slamming the door behind her.

“I am sorry,kotyonok. Something important has come up. I must go.” Peter is behind him, scooping up the kitten and the bag of her things I prepared for her to leave with. Then he’s gone again.

“I understand. Thank you for dinner.” I offer him the keys to the car.

A barely there smile is on those thick, plush lips. “Do not end this evening by annoying me. The car is yours. If I find out you are not using it or do something naughty like donating it to some charity, I would hate to have a discussion with your father about how you refused my gift.”

I’m gasping in shock; how the hell did he know I was considering gifting it to charity? He couldn’t talk to Carlo—if Carlo knew the car was from Milos, then he’d have the two of us tied up in a marriage before either of us could blink. I would lose everything. “You wouldn’t,” I beg.

“Try me,kotyonok.” It’s a dare.

“Fine.” I sigh. “I don’t understand why you care, but fine.”

A finger traces along my jaw. The touch is light, too light, yet sends my stomach twisting tight with need as warm honey flows through my veins. “Ty ne.”The Russian words are rich, thick, wrapping around me like smoke. “Odnazhdy ty vse poymesh’.”

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