Page 73 of Beautiful Broken Obsession

The urge to argue flares, it’s a ridiculous demand of his brothers. Others maybe, but his brothers… He goes tense. Is he so in tune with me he feels my outrage and is preparing for an argument? The thought alone stills me.

Forcing a laugh, I look to Mother. “You never taught them to share as children?”

Her eyes twinkle. “Their father wouldn't allow it.”

Looking up to Milos. “I'm not going to teach our children to share?”

He shakes his head. “Not when it comes to what belongs to them.”

I can't help the blush that sweeps over me at the way yellow is glowing down at me. “Please behave. You're getting me all achy and needy in front of an audience. It isn't fair,” I beg in a whisper.

His smile is wicked. “I wasn't even trying.”

I'm saved by a maid announcing lunch is ready.

As afraid as I was of putting a step wrong or doing something stupid like arguing with Milos in front of his brothers, lunch couldn't have gone better. The discussion is light, teasing, some references to childhood fights and a longstanding joke at Nikita’s expense which they still tell even though he isn’t here. This could be lunch at any family’s home. Not for a moment would a person be able to tell these men are Bratva—even Milos.

Maybe there is something to be said as using sex against a man the way Regina suggested. I never believed Milos could be so…sweetisn't quite the word, but happy is. Milos happy takes my breath away. His smile is a constant thing that keeps me so enthralled I forget to eat until he murmurs, telling me to, only for my eyes to return him again—food forgotten.

He offers me several bites with his eyes glowing in warning not to fight him. Once my plate is clean it isn’t simply satisfaction that flashes in his eyes—it’s something so sizzling hot and feral my panties are drenched, leaving me blushing.

After lunch is finished, we settle into the formal living room. Milos pulls me into his lap. I cuddle into him, breathing deep. “Behave,kotyonok,I don’t need to worry about hiding my hard cock in front of my mother,” Milos growls in my ear.

Eyes wide, I shake my head. “I'm not even trying.”

His laughter is everything in this entire world, turning my panties wet all over again. The moment his cell phone goes off, the laughter ends. Yellow eyes darken as he listens to the caller. He stiffens beneath me. I close my eyes, searching for calm.Do not stress out. Milos runs an entire city. Be his peace. I open my eyes to him staring at me intently, tension in him.

“I have to go.” He speaks without inflection yet below it he’s tense, prepared for a fight.

My smile wouldn't fool a child. Definitely not Milos. I give it anyway. “Okay.” I press a kiss to his cheek and slide off his lap.

Large hands grasp my waist as he stands. “It might be late.”

“You know where to find me,” I whisper.

The smile he flashes me is my reward for not fighting him, and it’s worth it. When he leaves all his brothers go with him.

I swallow down the resentment at him leaving. He didn't want to go—I could feel it in his touch.

“Moya doch’.”A warm glow flows over me at her calling me her daughter, the way it does every time she says it. “I cannot say it will get easier or better, but your love will grow stronger and that will make it worth it. Plus, when the babies are here, you'll be too busy to miss him.” Mother takes my hand in hers.

“Is that why you wanted ten children?” I ask.

“No, I wanted to recreate the family I lost in Ukraine. It was me, my mother, father and nine brothers and sisters. We were poor but happy. Then one day I lost them all, every one of them. A part of me wanted to give them another chance.” Her smile is sad, her eyes darken with pain.

“I'm so sorry.” What a pathetic word. I cringe at causing her pain.

She presses a kiss to my cheek. “It brought me to America, to my husband, to my destiny. If they had lived, I would have stayed in Vinnytsia, living a simple but happy life. There was a sweet boy a few streets over who had a good job already at seventeen. Although I was only sixteen, the life I would live was already a forgone conclusion. Until it wasn’t. One day that life was over. I moved to America. For three years I lived in New York and hated every second. Then a friend suggested I moved to Chicago. On the first day here I met my husband. We married a week later.”

“A week?” I’m shocked.

Her smile is sly. “He refused to uncuff me from the bed unless I said yes. On the second day I gave in.”

I can't help laughing. “Like father like son.”

“Very much so, but Milos is far more patient. That's why he is such a goodpakhan. He cares deeply for his people and takes his responsibilities to heart.” She squeezes my hand gently.

Returning the squeeze, I nod. “I understand, I do. My father runs the Outfit. There was an adjustment for my mother when it happened. I'll try not to take it personally.”

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