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Matthias

My phone ringing interrupts my work. I haven’t been this focused since Margot got here, but digging into the Koschei Group and the Bratva has my full attention. The fact that they’re after her puts a fear running through me I’ve never known.

Fear for Margot’s safety is a hell of a motivator. It’s also driving me insane.

I need to know why they’re after her. I need to stop them.

I also need to tell my brothers what’s going on.

Not just because they can help, but because when Roman and I killed those Bratva members, we involved the Syndicate.

Hell, I unwittingly involved them the second I killed those first two men who were after Margot in the alley.

We just didn’t know they were after her at the time.

Dom needs to know what we’ve dragged the Syndicate into. And Bash can help me dig into this more.

With my lack of tech knowledge, I haven’t found much. Just what Margot uncovered. It’s frustrating as hell not knowing what’s going on, not being able to find anything, not being able to protect her.

From what she told me, those men were going to take her. The idea of Margot in the Bratva’s hands, of her as their prisoner, makes me sick.

Even if they figured out she doesn’t know anything and hasn’t told any authorities, they couldn’t just let her go. By then, she’d know too much.

My phone rings again, dragging me out of my thoughts.

Mom.

Fuck. Why is she calling now?

I love her, but this is not a good time. She’s been worried about me lately, and I don’t have the mental strength to reassure her at the moment.

Still, if I don’t answer, she’ll just keep calling. She’s relentless like that.

So, I pick up the call.

“Hey, Mom. Now’s not really a good time–”

“Excuse me, mister. That is not how I raised you to answer the phone. Try again.” Her disappointment is evident in her tone.

I roll my eyes and start over.

“Sorry.” I grumble. Then in a false cheerfulness, I begin again. “Hey, Mom. How are you doing? How can I help you today?” I try to sound upbeat, but even I can hear how tired I am.

“That’s better. Now, I would be doing a lot better if my son wasn’t hiding his woman from me.”

Her anger is evident, but it doesn’t fully shield her hurt.

I hate that I hurt her. But how the hell was I supposed to explain my situation with Margot? Sure, she’s probably mad she heard about Margot from someone else. But what was I supposed to say? Hey, Mom, I kidnapped this girl but now I’m hoping she’s choosing to stay?

She’s always wanted us to bring home a girl. I know this because she tells us every time we see her. How much we need women. How love will make us happier.

And maybe she’s right. I am happier with Margot.

And Mom is definitely outnumbered in the family. A new woman around would be good for her.

“Roman told you about Margot?” There’s no point denying my relationship. And I’m not about to lie to my mom, even if I won’t tell her everything.

“Yes! He told all of us you have a girlfriend.” Fucking Roman, the gossip.

“You let your poor mother worry while you were happy with a woman. I can’t believe you introduced her to Roman before me!

Why didn’t you tell me? He says she’s lovely, so clearly it’s not her you’re worried about. Are you embarrassed of us?”

Her voice is sharp, but it softens on the last question.

I’m honestly surprised Roman didn’t spill more. And I appreciate that he only said good things. ‘Lovely,’ though? I doubt that was his word of choice, but I’ll take it.

“Mom, stop. It’s not like that. I didn’t want to introduce you guys until I knew it was serious. I’d hate for you to get attached if it didn’t work out. I love you guys. I’m not embarrassed of my family. Well, maybe my brothers. They’re animals.”

“So, it is serious!” she says triumphantly. “Because you introduced her to Roman! You’re bringing her to family dinner tomorrow afternoon!”

She leaves no room for argument. She totally played me. Sebastian gets his brains from Mom .

She knows how to get us to do what she wants. She plays right into our love for her. And with four sons and a husband, she had to master the art of manipulation.

I can’t even argue. If I refuse, she’ll know something’s up. And maybe this is a good thing.

Maybe meeting my family will help Margot realize how serious I am. And that we’re not psychotic murderers. She and my mom will get along well. I’m sure of it. And she needs that right now.

“Matthias, we’ll be on our best behavior. Your brothers will behave themselves; I’ll make sure of it.” She senses my hesitation.

“Ok, Mom, we’ll be there at four. What do you want me to bring?” I give in.

Maybe this step will help my girl realize how real we are.

“Just bring Margot! And make that noon ,” she adds.

“Mom, you said dinner!” I’m whining, suddenly twelve years old again.

“Matthias Vincent Montclair, you will listen to your mother! You owe me more than a quick dinner with Margot. I want to get to know her. And once your brothers get here, there won’t be a moment of peace.”

“Yes, Mom. We’ll be there at noon with a bottle of rosé.” I concede.

“Perfect! I’m so excited to meet her! I need to go get everything ready.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too!” she sings then hangs up.

Wait! Get everything ready?

Oh, fuck. This is going to be a disaster.

But despite the chaos brewing in my head, I can’t stop the smile that spread across my face at the thought of Margot meeting my family.

Her future family.