Page 1 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession (Vadim Bratva #12)

The bass was loud in my bones from the moment I stepped into Enigma, the city's most infamous (and my favorite) nightclub. God, it had been forever since I’d let loose like this.

With my family constantly neck-deep in drama and the ever-watchful eyes that came with being a Lebedev, nights out weren’t just rare. They were practically contraband.

But tonight? Tonight was mine. I’d earned it. My bodyguards lurked a few steps behind, scowling like they’d rather be anywhere else, and determined to look like they were allergic to fun. Just their presence, I knew, would dampen my spirit.

That wouldn't do. Not tonight.

I stopped abruptly at the entrance to the main floor, causing one of them to nearly bump into me. I turned around, hands on my hips, and fixed them with my best don't-mess-with-me stare.

“This is as far as you go,” I said, raising my voice above the music.

The taller one frowned. “Miss Lebedev, your brothers were clear about—”

“I know exactly what my brothers said.” I cut him off. “And I'm telling you that you're staying at the entrance. I don't need two shadows ruining my night.”

“But Miss—”

“Look around.” I gestured to the packed club. “It's a public place with about two hundred witnesses. I'm meeting my friends at our usual booth. If you want to be useful, watch the door and make sure no one sketchy is watching me from a distance.”

The two men exchanged glances. I knew there was some serious mental calculation happening in their brains. They were afraid and had to pick between two evils. Either they faced my wrath now, or my brothers’ later.

“It’ll be fine,” I said with a roll of my eyes, making their decision easier. “ I’ll be fine, and do you honestly think my brothers would care how you did your job as long as you did in bringing me home safe?”

“Fine,” he relented, his jaw tight. “But we stay where we can see you.”

I gave him a sweet smile. “Wonderful. Now stop looking so obvious. You're ruining my vibe.”

I walked away without waiting for their response.

That's the thing about growing up around Bratva men—you learn early that you get steamrolled if you don't stand your ground.

Being the second youngest Lebedev didn't mean I was going to be pushed around, not by my family and certainly not by their employees.

I spotted my friends at our usual corner booth and made my way over through the crowd with a wide grin. Tonight was going to be epic . I knew it.

As I passed, I noticed more than a few people turn to stare.

Some, with their judgment. Some, with envy.

Others, with appreciation. I knew why. My burgundy dress hugged every curve I had, and I had plenty.

I never understood women who starved themselves to fit some ridiculous standard.

My body told stories of late-night snacks with my siblings, champagne celebrations, and desserts worth every calorie. Why would I apologize for any of that?

But of course, there were always some people who thought I was too much and others who wished they could pull a page out of my book.

“Elena!” Mia jumped up when she saw me and screamed over the music to be heard, her blonde hair bouncing as she waved frantically. “Finally! We thought you weren't coming.”

I slid into the booth beside her, accepting the glass of champagne another friend pushed toward me. “Sorry. The bodyguard negotiation took longer than expected.”

“You actually got them to stay at the door?”

“I’ve never seen those guys let you out of their sight,” Mia said, raising an eyebrow.

I took a sip of the delicious, bubbly, crisp champagne and grinned. “I can be very persuasive.”

“That’s code for terrifying,” she laughed. “I’ve seen that look you get. It’s the same one Caspian has right before he annihilates someone.”

I shrugged, but a flicker of pride sparked in my chest. “Guess it runs in the family.”

Being compared to Caspian was no small thing. He wasn’t just my brother—he was the head of our family, the kind of man who people stopped to stare at when he entered a room. If I’d inherited even a sliver of that power, I’d take it.

The conversation moved as smoothly as the drinks. God, I’d missed this. Just being Elena, not Elena Lebedev, not the girl whose last name made people whisper. For once, I could almost believe I was just...normal. Not a legacy. Not a liability.

“Let’s dance!” Sophia tugged at my arm, her cheeks flushed from round two of cocktails.

The buzz from the champagne was just enough to make the dance floor look inviting instead of exhausting. I was halfway out of my seat when I spotted her.

A tall, stick-thin redhead, watching me like she knew me, but I knew for a fact she didn’t.

By now, I had developed a keen sense of knowing when someone was a social climber, and she had social climber written all over her.

She’d been giving me subtle side-eye since I walked in, and now she was planted at the edge of our group without having been invited.

I wouldn’t have minded. Under different circumstances, I might have even brought her in like a mother hen.

Except, I recognized her as Natalia something, an Instagram model who regularly attached herself to whatever group seemed most influential.

As I stood, she seized her opportunity, stepping directly into my path.

“Elena, right? That dress is...” Her eyes traveled slowly up and down my body, lips pursed in what I supposed was meant to look like impressed surprise. “You're so confident to pull something like that off with your... figure.”

The group went silent. I could feel my friends tense beside me. They knew what was coming.

I took my time, giving her the same assessing look she'd given me, but mine was a thousand times colder. “And you're so confident to wear that personality in public.” I smiled sweetly. “At least I can change my dress.”

Mia snorted beside me, trying to cover it with a cough. The redhead's face flushed almost the same shade as her hair.

“I was just trying to—”

“Honey, I know exactly what you were trying to do.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “But here's a tip. If you want to hang with us, bring something better than some insult disguised as a compliment and leave the judgment at the door. Now excuse us, we're going to dance.”

I walked past her, my friends following in my wake, their laughter barely contained until we hit the dance floor.

“Oh my god, her face!” Sophia howled once we were safely surrounded by the crowd. “I thought she was going to melt into the floor.”

I laughed, letting the music take over as we formed our circle. This was freedom.

Dancing cleared my head. It always did. After three songs, I needed a breather. “I'm getting water,” I shouted to the girls, who were still going strong. They nodded, and I made my way to the bar.

That's when I saw him.

Gastone Ajello. Head of the Ajello family.

Brother to Larissa, who was now my sister-in-law.

Outright enemy of the Lebedevs, or at least, he had been until recently, when Larissa declared she was in love with my brother and made it clear they were starting a family.

Now, he was more of a brooding, silent enemy.

He sat alone at a private table overlooking the dance floor, a bottle of expensive whiskey in front of him.

His light blond hair stood out in the dim lighting, and even from here, I could see the dark green eyes that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.

Tattoos snaked up his arms, visible where he'd rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down shirt.

I'd never met him officially, but I knew who he was. Unlike my brothers, who tried to keep me out of family business, I made it my business to know everything about our family’s internal and external affairs. I had eyes and ears everywhere—something they constantly underestimated.

Gastone was drinking alone. His expression was hard, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular, as though he had something else on his mind.

The sight of him made my blood boil. Larissa had just had a baby, my niece, three weeks ago. His niece, a beautiful little girl who should have had her uncle showering her with attention.

Larissa’s two remaining brothers, Carlo and Dino, fortunately didn’t follow Gastone’s obstinate hold over his hatred for us and lathered the child with affection, but I knew Larissa felt sad when Gastone didn’t bother to even come see the baby.

Instead, Gastone had cut Larissa off completely when she'd chosen to stay with Gio. He hadn't visited once or even sent a card or acknowledgment of his niece's birth.

I'd seen Larissa crying quietly when she thought no one was looking.

I'd seen the way she checked her phone hopefully whenever it buzzed, only to have her face fall when it wasn't him.

My fierce, kind sister-in-law, reduced to tears because her brother was too stubborn and proud to accept her happiness.

I shouldn't get involved. This was between Gastone and Larissa. Between the Ajellos and Gio.

But then I thought of Larissa's face this morning as she spoke to Carlo and Dino, who had come for a visit.

She'd mentioned that Gastone might come for the baby's naming ceremony next week.

The hope in her voice, even after all this time.

The way it broke my heart to know that hope would be crushed again simply based on the awkward, pitiful look her brothers exchanged.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was walking toward his table. The security guard stationed nearby straightened as I approached, but Gastone noticed me first. His green eyes locked onto mine, narrowing slightly.

He recognized me. I could see it in the slight tensing of his shoulders, the way his hand tightened around his glass. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should have turned back.

But then again, the anger flowing through me stopped me from playing safe. I was done with how he was treating Larissa, and maybe once he heard what I had to say, he would begin to understand what an absolute jerk he’d been.

So for Larissa and my little nieces’ sake, I decided giving him a piece of my mind was worth it.