Page 20 of Bratva Bastard

In his drowsy state, he wrapped his arm around me, squeezing gently. “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you.” He kissed my cheek, laying his head on my shoulder as he gave me another gentle squeeze.

I could’ve told him that I was fine, that he needed to rest, and I should take care of him. But I didn’t. The soothing effects of his fingers caressing my arms, and the comfort of his body tucked into the couch with mine—it all felt so nice. It felt so freeing, and I didn’t want it to end.

With his head nestled against my shoulder, he fell back asleep. Unable to resist, I drifted off as well. And together, we slept for several more hours, until the light from the morning peeked in through the curtains, a sliver of sunshine blinding me awake.

I slid out from Maxim’s grasp, disentangling our limbs and getting up from the couch. Heading to the coffee machine, I fired that baby up, making us both cups to help get us through the day after such a rough night. Well, for me it was rough. I’d be heading to work with only a few hours of sleep.

Maxim groaned, stretching his arms as he woke up.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I said, handing him a cup of coffee as I took a seat beside him on the couch. “Two creams, four sugars. I hope you like it.”

He took a sip, hissing from the steam. “Damn, that’s hot. But good. You make coffee as good as you make drinks at the bar.”

I let out half a laugh, too absorbed in everything that had happened to make jokes. So many unanswered questions that I wanted to ask. So, I figured I’d start with the biggest one of all.

“What’s going on?”

Maxim sighed, rubbing his hands over his face to wake up. “Those people you saw, I think they’re working for a man who wants me dead.”

“A mafia man?” I asked, jumping to the point. Maxim cocked his head, shocked. “Well, Zoran’s in the Bratva, so I assumed you were, too, and that’s how you got that injury. Though, you didn’t have it during the wedding, but you had it on the plane ride two days later, so you must’ve been shot the day after.”

“You assumed correctly. Impressive. My brothers and I are in the Russian mafia. The day after the wedding, we were…” he trailed off, as if unsure how much to reveal. Though I wished he knew he could tell me everything and I wouldn’t spill a single detail.

“We had some business to attend to,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Let’s just say the business went south, and I got shot in the shoulder. But because I killed the guy who shot me, his father is out for my blood. Seems he’s followed me to Trancoso, knowing I’d be here with Dimitry.”

“Dimitry?” I asked, trying to connect all the dots.

“My brother. The one I was supposed to be staying with, before I came to the hotel. I was supposed to be keeping a low profile, but so much for that.”

“How did you even get involved with the Russian mafia?” I asked.

“You don’t want to hear about that,” he said, turning away. But I grabbed his hands, and he jumped back in surprise.

“I want to know. Seriously, you can tell me the truth and I won’t judge you in any way. We all have things in our life we don’t like talking about or are ashamed of. But you can be honest with me.”

He smiled, relief evident in his deep blue eyes that threatened to pull me in like the waves of the ocean. The most dangerous waves of all—the kind I could get lost in forever, both terrifying and exhilarating. As if I wanted to get lost in him.

I pulled up my feet, tucking them under my legs, as I sipped my coffee, engrossed in his story.

“I was born into the Bratva life. My mother never told me who my father was, only that I was the product of a love affair with a married man. I was always the bastard child growing up, and kids relentlessly teased me for not having a father. Until recently, I didn’t even know I had three brothers, born to a different father. The only reason I know of their existence is because I had to search for them after my mother disappeared.”

I gasped. “She’s gone? Did you find her?” He shook his head, so I backed it up a step. “So, how did you get brought into the family business?”

He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed, lips pulled in tight. “I don’t remember much from my childhood. We moved around a lot when I was young, always living somewhere in Belarus, but eventually settled in St. Petersburg with my mother’s friend, Uncle Gregori. He ran a money-laundering business, getting ‘clean’ money,’” he quoted with his fingers, “to both criminals and ordinary people. It was an alright scam, but it didn’t bring in much profit. So, my mother expanded his money-laundering business into a mini-drug cartel. It was more of a side hustle, but it brought in wealth.

“My mother grew her empire, and though she was not ruthless, she knew how to get the job done. When some new guy showed up, smuggling cocaine into St. Petersburg, obviously it hurt business. Setbacks were one thing, but this guy resorted to unnecessary violence as a means for business, and killed off many of our men, if only to steal our product. I had no choice but to kill him. He was unstable, unpredictable, and fucking up everything. But when my brothers and I met with the dead guy’s father Sorokin—the man who’s out for my blood—to call a truce, his other son recognized me as his brother’s killer, and that’s when he shot me. I shot him back, killing him, and now his father is after my head.”

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath. I expected his story to be crazy, but hearing him tell it was much more intense than I’d imagined. “So what happened to your mother?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered, frustration thick in his tone. “She left to meet up with Gregori one day and never showed up. He called me several hours later asking where she was, and that she wasn’t answering her phone. I tried looking for her but came up empty every time. When I was digging through her things, trying to find some semblance of a clue, I found a picture of my brothers. That’s when I found out that I had a family I’d never known about.”

“That’s incredible. How did you feel about having brothers? Were you excited to meet them, or scared, or nervous, or…”

Maxim chuckled, grabbing my hand. “Slow down, love. I know it was crazy, but honestly, I didn’t think much of it. My focus was finding my mother, and at the time, I didn’t even think of them as being my brothers. They were just another source who may have information.”

I frowned, not expecting that answer at all. Who wouldn’t be psyched to find out they had siblings? Or sad, even.Something. But he was so nonchalant.

“I crashed Ivan’s wedding and introduced myself. They didn’t believe me at first, but the eldest brother, Misha, convinced the others. That, and the picture I had of them with my mother. Misha invited me to join them in their business, insisting that I was family, and family stuck together. Strange, isn’t it? I mean, he’d only just met me.”

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