Page 66 of Deadly Knight (The Bratva’s Elite #2)

Two weeks feels endless.

I’ve said goodbye to work for good.

To Ava.

To Toronto.

To my parents.

To Nora.

And now, the moving company Dimitri hired is loading a small truck with the remainder of my things, before driving to the tarmac where the Bratva plane waits.

The day after Dimitri managed to get out of bed, he was forced to kiss me goodbye in the most possessive, searing way ever experienced.

When he left with Vanessa, Anastasia, and their soldiers, the look in his eyes haunted me.

It was a look of a man terrified to be saying goodbye again, and I realized then, he was frightened I’d change my mind once they left.

Once he texted me about their arrival into Moscow and that he was home, I eagerly called him and we talked for hours. Even his goodbye that night felt uncertain, and while understandable, I made certain to spend the next two weeks ridding him of that feeling more and more.

Over the days, his bruising shifted colour and the cuts began sealing up more. As he healed, he slowly became more like my Dimitri, and when he arrived hours ago at my doorstep to take me home with him, he showed signs of being almost fully mended, like none of it ever happened.

It’s been a whirlwind few hours, but finally being able to settle into a seat at the far end of the plane immediately makes everything calmer. A new chapter is about to be opened in my life.

My first time on the Bratva jet, I was knocked out for most of it, only waking to the ultimate shock of seeing Dimitri after a decade, and learning some of what occurred to lead us to that point.

The second time, a month and a half ago, was when I bolted from the mansion and spent the entire trip going back and forth between wanting to turn around and needing to continue forward.

“Once all my qualifications are transferred over, I think I’d like to open a private therapy clinic,” I casually announce.

“You can do whatever you’d like,” Dimitri replies, dropping beside me. He stretches his legs out in front of him into the aisle and lowers an arm behind me on the back of the couch.

“What’s life going to be like for us?”

Behind me, he fiddles with my hair while watching staff outside finish preparing for departure.

“It’ll be whatever you’d like it to be. You know my role.

I’ll be working in the mansion sometimes, meetings with Vanessa and whatnot, but I’ll also be around Moscow the majority of the time.

I’ll oversee many of the deals, especially the highly illegal ones.

Help train any new inductees. Sometimes people lose their lives around me.

Whatever you want to be told, you will. If you want to be kept in the dark about everything, then I’ll make sure you are. ”

Not the dark, for sure, but maybe not every little thing either. Then again, I do want to know about his day, his life, and every second I’m not with him.

“As much as you’re willing to share, I’d like to be told. To shoulder that weight with you, but especially if it has something to do with me. No more hiding things to protect me.”

He drops a kiss to my forehead. “Deal.”

“Will we live in the mansion?”

“That’s up to you. We could, but we also have your house.

The mansion means being around my cousin, Ana, and Lev.

Zeno’s coming around more often for Vanessa, and who knows how their future will unfold; trying to rule two mobs under one roof, and now Serafina’s around too.

Essentially, it’s pretty packed, and you prefer quiet.

Personally, I’m thinking the house might be a better place to raise a family. ”

The plane’s door is shut for good, the loud thud echoing through the parts of me that go motionless at his words. We’ve never spoken about things like this, considering prior to two weeks ago, there was no future to discuss.

“You’d want kids?”

“I want whatever you want, moya dusha . Big or small family, or none at all. We’ll be the family to whoever Vanessa and Zeno eventually have.”

Although I enjoy being around kids for work, I certainly never gave them a thought. Making it day-by-day has been my entire goal. A child being raised by the mess I am? That wouldn’t be smart for either party.

Then again, the idea of a small baby in Dimitri’s muscular arms…well, now that’s an image that’ll stick with me.

“A decision for the future.”

Dimitri links his hands around my hips and drags me over his lap, somehow turning me around with more grace than I believed possible, so I’m facing him. My hands skirt up his sides and link into his shirt’s collar, keeping him close.

“It’s been too long.” He nudges me lower, brushing against my centre.

“I’ve missed you. Before getting nabbed, watching you from afar was even more gutting than it’d been for the past decade.

At least, during that time, being without you wasn’t anything new.

After being inside you again, tasting you…

it was cruel to go without. Then, still being away for the past two weeks while healing sucked more. ”

Even if he flew right back after leaving with Vanessa, which he wanted to but got caught up in Bratva business, he wouldn’t have been able to do half of what he wanted to, his body too bruised and sore.

But now…

The pilot pops behind his curtain to let us know the plane will takeoff in a few minutes, reminding me of where we are. After he goes, I slide back to my seat.

“They’ll hear us. We shouldn’t.”

“They’re paid to ignore us.”

He hauls me back on top of him, pressing me down, and ignores any of my further hesitation by sliding his hands beneath my top until reaching my bra.

Shirt still on, he undoes the back and slides the cups off until covering me with his palms. He leans forward to brush the hair from my neck before placing a kiss along my pulse, down my neck, and along the edge of my top before he lifts the clothing and disappears beneath, rendering every other complaint useless.

It’s a blissful twenty-hour trip home. If the pilot overhears, Dimitri helps me realize I don’t care all that much.

The last time I was in Russia, it was with disdain, shock, and anger. Every negative emotion circulating the situation with Dimitri’s re-arrival into my life and Ivan’s treachery.

This time, however, I’m home. Standing at the top of the jet’s stairs, gazing out at the familiar land, the sun unhidden by Toronto skyrises, the air much easier on the lungs than Toronto’s smog.

It’s beautiful. It’s wonderful. It’s perfect.

Behind me, Dimitri grasps my hand and nudges me down the stairs and in the direction of the waiting car with Zeno and Vanessa standing beside it. Vanessa embraces me when I approach, and though it throws me off-kilter for a second, I hug her back.

“Glad you’ve come back.”

“Just needed a kick in the ass. Hi again,” I greet Zeno when pulling from her arms.

“Ready to go home?” Dimitri squeezes my hand. “Figured we’d stay at the mansion for the next little while, while our house is getting set up.”

Our house sounds really fucking right.

“What’s wrong with it?” When he took me there a month ago, it looked as my family had left it when moving out. Spotless and clean, empty of course, but that’s fixable in time.

“He’s trying to give you a home, not a house,” Vanessa answers for him, her tone matter-of-fact as though she’s reciting something she’s heard a few times. “Don’t argue about it. You’ll get nowhere.”

We pile into her car, Dimitri and I in the back. He’s humming as he stares out the window, peace etched into his expression. I like this Dimitri. He deserves to be content. No more misery from our breakup and free from his father’s commands.

We reach the mansion and Anastasia and Lev are standing in the front entrance, both greeting us. Lev disappears quickly, which Dimitri tells me is nothing personal.

Once all the greetings are finished, everyone breaks off into different directions. Zeno and Vanessa take off on her bike, and Anastasia leaves shortly after, citing ballet practice. Lev is still absent, so Dimitri tugs me upstairs to his room.

It looks the same as last time, with one small exception.

I’m with him.

Dimitri watches as I stride through the space, dramatically falling back onto the bed, arms and legs spread in an X. “Missed this. Yours is so much more comfortable than mine.”

He approaches the edge of the mattress. “That’s the entire reason you’re back, right? For my bed.”

“Why else would I return?”

He chuckles at my teasing before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between my spread legs. His gaze ignites a fire within me, promising much more, given the plane only offered so much space.

Then his eyes flick to my right arm, scanning over the old scars that don’t make me want to hide anymore. Instead, I remain motionless, allowing him to study the most vulnerable parts of me, and it’s here he lingers as he reaches for his own wrist, the one with my ribbon on it.

It takes his thick fingers effort, but after a few curses and grunts, he manages to have it untied and suspended in the space between us. But it’s not the ribbon that catches my attention; it’s his wrist.

Beneath the physical ribbon is a tattooed one, the exact same shade of emerald green.

I sit up, reaching for his arm, finger tracing over the line as thick as my thumb, following the delicate folds and shading, making the ink come alive. It’s so different from every other tattoo on his body, most—if not all—are symbols of his service to the Bratva.

“When did you get this done?”