Page 49 of Brutal Reign (Bratva Kings #3)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-NINE

HOPE

My stomach twists into a knot as we approach the sprawling house at the center of the compound.

It’s even more impressive than Pavel’s home: a Mediterranean-inspired mansion with terracotta roof tiles, creamy stucco walls, and climbing vines adorning the facade.

Not exactly the fortress of evil I’d pictured.

The walk across the grounds gives me plenty of time to get lost in my head. Half an hour ago, I was convinced I couldn’t sit at a table with these people. Now, I’m wearing Pavel’s ring and trying to process the weight of his words.

“This makes it clear to everyone exactly who you are to me.”

“My family. You and Kin belong to me.”

“I’d choose you every time.”

I swear, every day that passes, this man breaks down my defenses, and I’m starting to see everything through different eyes. The black and white world I used to live in has dissolved into shades of gray.

“Too tight, Mama,” Kin whispers, and I force myself to loosen my hold on his hand.

“Sorry, baby,” I murmur, smoothing his hair with my free hand. Despite Pavel’s assurances that today will go fine, my stomach is a riot of nerves.

Pavel places his hand on the small of my back, the heat of his palm burning through the material of my dress. “Breathe,” he reminds me.

“I’m good,” I manage, giving him a reassuring look.

The massive front door swings open before we reach it, revealing a petite blonde with her hair up in a twist and a megawatt smile.

Kira Belov, I assume. She’s dressed casually in white linen pants and a flowing blue top, looking more like a lifestyle influencer than the wife of a feared bratva boss.

“Finally!” she exclaims, throwing her arms wide. “I was starting to think you were going to bail on us.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Pavel replies, returning her hug with surprising warmth.

I blink, caught off guard by her enthusiastic greeting. She kisses him on both cheeks before turning her sparkling blue eyes on me and Kin.

“And you must be Hope,” she says, reaching for my free hand with both of hers. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

I’d prepared for coldness, even suspicion, but there’s been none of that.

“Thank you,” I say. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Kira’s gaze drops to Kin, who’s half-hiding behind my legs, suddenly shy. “And this handsome gentleman must be Kin,” she says, crouching down to his level. “My son, Alexei, has been so excited to meet you. He’s just about your age.”

Kin peeks out, assessing her carefully. “Hello,” he says quietly after I prod him.

“Whoa. You must like dinosaurs?” Kira remarks, noting his bow tie. “I bet we have some pretty cool dino toys somewhere in this house. Should we go look for them?”

Kin nods, still clinging to my side but visibly intrigued.

“Perfect. Come in, come in.” Kira straightens, ushering us inside. “Everyone’s out back. We’re having lunch on the terrace.”

Their home is stunning, with soaring ceilings in beiges, black, and white. It’s tasteful and understated luxury. As we follow Kira through the house, Pavel’s hand never leaves the small of my back.

“See, not so bad,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear.

The terrace doors open to reveal a scene straight out of a luxury travel magazine.

A long wooden table sits beneath a pergola draped with flowering vines.

It’s set for lunch, with simple white plates and fresh flowers scattered down the center.

Beyond the gardens is the koi pond that Pavel told Kin about.

“Holy shit.” I can’t help the words as they fly out of my mouth.

Kira laughs. “Why, thank you. That was exactly the response I was looking for.”

Around the table stand the rest of the Syndicate’s inner circle. My step falters as all eyes land on us.

“Everyone,” Pavel says with easy confidence. “My wife, Hope, and her son, Kin.”

The possessive “my wife” feels like armor, a protective circle that no one can breach,

But when I look around at everyone, I don’t see hostility or hatred. Mostly just curious looks.

A tall, distinguished older man with salt-and-pepper hair detaches himself from the group. Even without a formal introduction, I know it’s Maxim Belov. His authority is unmistakable, softened only by the adorable blonde toddler perched on his hip.

Pavel steps forward and gently lifts the girl into his arms. “Anna,” he says, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek while cooing at her in Russian. She giggles in response, and damn if that doesn’t hit me right in the ovaries.

Maxim turns those piercing blue eyes on me. “Hope. Welcome to our home.”

There’s a coolness in his tone, an assessment happening behind those eyes, though his manner is perfectly friendly. I get it. We’re both sizing each other up, trying to get a read on each other. It’s going to take time to build trust.

“Thank you for having us,” I say, the polite phrase automatic.

“Alexei!” Kira calls, and a small sandy-haired boy around Kin’s age comes running from where he’d been playing with what looks like a remote-controlled car. “This is Kin. Why don’t you show him your toys while the grown-ups talk?”

Alexei studies Kin with open curiosity. “Do you like robots?” he asks in perfect English.

“I like dinosaurs better.”

“I have dinosaurs in my room,” Alexei offers. “And robots too.”

Kin looks up at me, silently asking permission. I nod, despite the nerves in my gut.

It wasn’t long ago I swore I’d never let Kin play with the Belov kids. But Pavel is right; the children are innocent in all this.

“They’ll be fine.” Pavel gives my shoulder a squeeze. “There’s a nanny upstairs.”

Kira reaches over to take her adorable toddler from Pavel. “I’m going to put her down for a nap. Be back in a few minutes.”

Pavel’s hand links with mine as three men approach from across the terrace. They’re all tall, intimidating, and absurdly good-looking in that dangerous way that seems to be a requirement for all these Russian men.

“Hope, I’m sure you remember Roman Vasiliev,” Pavel says, gesturing to the man I met briefly on the plane from Hong Kong.

Roman gives me a polite nod. “Good to see you again.”

“And this is Nikolai Zhukov,” Pavel continues as a man with short dark hair and tattoos creeping up his neck steps forward and shakes my hand.

His intense eyes assess me carefully, and I can feel the wariness radiating from him. It takes me a moment to realize why. This is Sofiya’s husband. The woman Simon abducted.

There’s a moment of recognition between us. I don’t know what to say, but I decide to go with the truth.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “For what happened to your wife.”

He nods once, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders.

“And I’m Vadim Lazarev.” A man with curly brown hair and an easygoing demeanor—at least compared to the others—offers me his hand with what seems like a genuine smile.

“Pleasure,” I say, though I’m feeling a little uneasy with all the attention on me.

All the men maintain a careful distance that feels like a wall of masculine suspicion, while Pavel stays close to my side, his presence protective and unmistakably territorial.

Before the awkward tension gets too heavy, two women sweep in like a warm breeze, practically elbowing the men out of the way.

“Oh, for God’s sake, excuse our husbands,” says a tall, willowy woman with auburn hair and the slightest baby bump visible beneath her flowing sundress. “I’m Liza,” she continues with an easy smile. “And this is my sister, Sofiya.”

Sofiya is a little shorter than her sister, with more of an athletic build.

I’m not sure how I expect her to respond to me, but it’s definitely not to link her arm through mine and say, “Another woman to balance things out is exactly what we need.” She throws Pavel a mischievous look. “And someone has to keep this guy in line.”

I scoff and roll my eyes playfully. “God knows I’m trying, but it hasn’t been easy.”

Pavel huffs a laugh beside me. “Don’t scare my wife in the first five minutes of meeting her, please.”

Kira reappears beside me. “We’ll wait until she has alcohol in her system to share the worst stories. Now, you go play with the boys.” She flicks her hand in the direction of where Maxim and the other men are gathering.

Pavel catches my eye, a silent question asked. I give him a small nod, letting him know that I’m okay on my own.

“Look at you being all cute,” Liza teases. “I’ve never seen Pavel be all protective like this.”

I sigh. “Like a bossy mother hen.”

“Oh my God,” Kira shrieks. “That will never not be funny to me.”

Pavel grumbles about being ganged up on and finally makes his way toward where all the men have gathered.

“Ladies, it’s officially cocktail hour,” Sofiya declares, steering me toward a table set with a pitcher of something pink and fruity looking. “They need to discuss boring business things, and we need to properly welcome you without them hovering.”

“A drink sounds fantastic,” I admit. I’m not eager to stand around with a group of men who clearly have reservations about my presence.

Kira nods, already pouring glasses. “Trust me, we know. Being married to these men often requires a little something to take the edge off.”

“Our husbands are a little overprotective,” Liza adds, sipping mineral water. “They mean well. They just need a little time to come around to the idea of Pavel being married to the...the...”

“The Black Company heir?” I suggest. “Yeah, the feeling’s mutual.”

“If it’s any comfort,” Kira says, swirling a straw in her glass, “most of our marriages started in a rather unconventional way, so you’re in good company.”

“Unconventional?”

“You know, a little different than the norm. I married Maxim to get close enough to kill him. Luckily, it didn’t come to that.”

I nearly choke on my drink. In normal circles, I’d assume she was joking, but something tells me she’s dead serious. I make a mental note to ask about that story once I’ve had a drink or two.