Page 10 of Cruel Russian Pakhan (Safin Bratva #1)

When that soft moan slipped from Vera’s lips, I tried to hold back, but I couldn’t. I crushed my mouth to hers, my arm tightening around her waist like I could mold her into me to make us one.

The moment her lips parted and her tongue shyly met mine, relief flooded me. I’d noticed her tight nipples beneath her gym shirt when she stood to face me, but I told myself it was the AC. Now, I knew better.

Her hands didn’t curl around my neck or pull me in. They stayed flat against my chest, like she didn’t know what to do with them, or was too afraid to act on what she wanted.

Her taste was addictive; sweet, with a trace of mint from her toothpaste. The more I tasted her, the more I wanted her. My hands slid down to gently cup her ass, and she moaned, pressing her hips into me.

Before I knew what I was doing, I lifted her into my arms. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I pressed her against the wall. My hardened length pressed between her legs, and a throaty moan passed her lips, making me tighten my hold on her.

Not only did I feel the heat from her, but I felt the dampness through her leggings as well.

Fuck!

I wanted to take her right there, throw her onto the gym floor and have my way with her. I wanted to drag more moans out of her and watch her chest heave from a different kind of workout. One where my name would be on the tip of her tongue as I thrusted into her warmth.

But the more I kissed her, the more I felt it. She wasn't ready. She wasn't attempting to deepen the kiss. As much as I wanted Vera, a part of me wanted her to want me back.

Her kisses were gentle, yet unsure. A woman with experience, who wanted more, would've deepened the kiss, pulled me into her, taken what she craved.

But not Vera. And that shocked me. The most defiant woman I knew was suddenly uncertain, and hesitant.

Her kiss felt almost…innocent. And that alone was enough to stop me.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, my chest heaving.

Her breaths came just as ragged, lips swollen and parted like she hadn’t realized the kiss had ended.

And damn, if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, standing there with her blue eyes, usually icy, glazed over with arousal, staring at me like I’d stolen her last breath. I almost pulled her back in.

“Go get ready for breakfast,” I said, huskily. “I’ll meet you in the dining room.”

She blinked, like she was processing the words. Then her expression shifted. She didn’t hide her disappointment, just stepped back, squared her shoulders, and walked out without looking back.

That stung more than it should’ve.

She probably felt used. And even though she showed how disappointed she was, Vera’s pride wouldn’t let her show how much me pushing her away hurt her a second time.

God, I felt like an asshole.

Falling for her wasn’t part of the plan.

But everything about her is an enigma. Bratva daughters were raised to be elegant, polished, and obedient. They were groomed to be assets. A tool for political and social leverage: marriage, alliances, and appearances.

Vera was none of that.

She preferred jeans and T-shirts over the flashy designer clothes I bought. She wore Chapstick and a hint of eyeshadow instead of layers of makeup. She challenged me, which both irritated the hell out of me, and turned me on more than I wanted to admit. Nothing about her added up.

Did she reinvent herself after escaping Artyom’s grasp? That story she told me, about the ropes and cuffs…what the hell kind of childhood was that? I knew Bratva parents pushed their kids to be tough, but that?

Maybe it didn’t happen back then. Maybe it was recent, and she’s too ashamed to tell me.

If I found out that Artyom had done that to her, I'd skin him alive.

But, for now, my focus was on Vera. There was something totally off about her, and I needed to figure out what it was before I fell too deep.

Deep into what, Lev? Feelings? You don’t do feelings, remember? And this is exactly why! You can't think past your dick!

Get your head on straight. One misstep, and you’ll ruin this. For your family and your faction.

Keep your head in the game.

I made my way to my room and got ready for the day. When I got to the base of the staircase, I heard voices coming from the lounge. I made my way there and stopped at the entrance. My siblings were there.

Jaroslav spoke before I could get my bearings, his voice cold, but his eyes burning with fury. His arms pressed into the armchair he stood behind.

“Artyom just declared the Safin faction an enemy. I couldn’t make sense of it at first. Then I remembered, I asked you about the wedding with Vera.

You said there were complications, and that you'd handle it. You told me anything concerning Vera, you’d manage personally, and that things with Artyom and his faction, we’d handle together.

Something tells me those lines were crossed.

” He paused, jaw clenched. “So tell me, Lev, how exactly did you ‘handle’ the complications with the wedding? Because however you did it is exactly why we’re at war with the Rykovs. ”

I didn’t answer Jaroslav right away. Instead, I crossed the room, sank into one of the armchairs, and leaned back like I had all the time in the world as I met their eyes.

I knew I’d only be able to keep them in the dark for so long. But they also knew barging into my home and demanding answers crossed a line, so none of them spoke after Jaroslav; they waited.

After a few tense moments, I began, “When Artyom and I struck the deal, I had Timur keep tabs on Vera. About a week before the wedding, she went MIA.”

Mariya’s mouth opened like she had something to say, then she shut it again without saying a word.

“I found Vera and married her. She’s been living with me for about three weeks.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Marten muttered.

I watched the shock ripple across their faces. Even Jaroslav, who was always composed, even in the worst scenarios. His eyes widened a fraction in surprise before he masked it.

“So…you kidnapped Vera,” he stated flatly.

“I did.” My voice hardened. “Did you think I’d make it easy for him to back out of this deal? To play me like a damn fool? We’ve got too much riding on this for me to let him twist the narrative.”

“You could’ve come to me,” Jaroslav snapped. “We could’ve handled it together. Spoken to Artyom like men.”

“For what?” I shot back. “So he could lie through his teeth? Spin some story about Vera running away? From where I’m standing, Artyom was looking for any excuse to break the alliance and declare war between the factions.”

“What makes you think that?” Marten asked, eyes narrowed.

“The night the wedding was supposed to happen, Artyom messaged me, accused me of betraying him. Meanwhile, he was the one hiding Vera. Then he had the balls to send men after me while I was with her.”

They didn’t need to know Vera was living like a prisoner then and had escaped.

Pyotr leaned forward, stunned. “He sent men to kill you? While you were with his sister?”

I gave a tight nod.

“He’s a sadistic son of a bitch,” Avit growled. “Who the fuck puts his own sister in danger to prove a fucking point?”

“Apparently, Artyom does,” I growled. “He didn’t give a shit if she got caught in the crossfire.”

“Do you have proof it was him?” Jaroslav asked. “As much as we’re at war with Artyom, and I’d love to put a few bullets in his skull, I need to be sure he sent those men.”

“Timur hasn’t confirmed anything yet. Just that the ones who survived the shootout were found dead shortly after.”

“Someone’s cleaning house,” Marten stated.

“Exactly,” I said. “Which makes me think it was Artyom. He wouldn’t want it getting out that he sent a hit squad after me, especially while I was with his sister.”

Jaroslav’s jaw tensed. “Unless he meant to take you both out. With you dead and Vera gone, he could fracture both factions and blame us for it.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Did you tell Vera you think her brother put a hit on her?” Mariya asked.

“I did, but she denied that it was them.”

Avit frowned. “If Artyom was behind it, he wouldn't tell Vera anything. He'd want her response to be as natural as possible.”

I nodded. Avit did have a point.

Ninel frowned. “But eventually she’ll want to see her family. Would she be safe with them? I don't know how I'd feel knowing that my family had sent gunmen to attack while I was out with my husband, I’d feel…betrayed.” She shuddered.

“She was shaken up after the shootout. If she asks to visit them, we’ll deal with it then, but so far, she hasn’t.

I met each of my siblings’ gazes. They understood the order without me saying a word. The attack on Vera and me wasn't up for discussion around her. I had already accused her without proo,f and having the others mention it isn't going to help build the trust I needed from her.

I’d already kidnapped her. That alone was enough to make her question anything I had to tell her about her family. And probably why she didn't believe they had anything to do with it.

And I needed her to trust me.

Why? Because you're developing feelings? Or because it'll be easier for your plan to work?

“So…what now?” Jaroslav asked.

“Now?” I stood. “We have breakfast. Vera’s waiting for me in the dining room. We’ll handle everything else at the office.”

My siblings exchanged looks but said nothing. This wasn’t the time, or place, to strategize. Not with Vera nearby. I didn’t trust that she wouldn’t find a way to get word back to Artyom if she overheard something useful.

Without a word, we headed to the dining room. When we got there, Vera was already seated in her usual spot. The moment she saw us, her face paled. She shot to her feet, knocking the chair to the ground behind her.

I briskly walked over and righted the chair. She hadn’t moved, and neither had my siblings, who now stood silently by the doorway, watching her as she watched them.

Taking her hand, I led her away from the table. When we were a few steps from the others, I slid my hand to the small of her back and drew her close.

“Family,” I said. “I'd like you to officially meet my wife, Vera.”