Page 25 of Scarlet Promise (Yegorov Bratva #4)

Chapter Nineteen

ILYA

Security’s been on my mind. Has been since I moved in. But I think I’d like a better level, not just a change of passcodes, so I send Isaak a message. He sends back a thumbs-up.

Demyan keeps focused on his phone, so I send another message.

Me

Top level security.

After a moment, my phone lights up again.

Isaak

Chase’ll know. All fine? Aren’t you at dinner with your lady?

Me

Demyan.

Isaak

Do I want to know?

Me

Workout fodder, man.

I then check in with Elisei. And Denis. They must think I like to hover.

Demyan is still texting.

With a sigh, I give up, put my phone down, and stare at him. “Demyan?”

“Busy. Like you are.”

I could buy that if mine lasted for more than two minutes and not been contrived. He’s texting like he’s in the middle of a crisis. But Pavel would have let me know if there was a crisis.

Not out of disloyalty, but because Pavel knows I’m an ally, unlike Demyan here. And Pavel actually respects my expertise.

“I swear to fucking god I’ll rip away your phone,” I say.

He doesn’t look at me. “Try it and I’ll shoot you.”

“Not if I shoot you first.”

Demyan lets out a long sigh, and when he puts down his phone, I can see a Russian blog on his phone’s screen on…renovations?

The ass wasn’t even texting people. I’ve never seen him pretend like that.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Demyan?—”

He stops a waiter who passes by and orders a vodka, effectively shutting me down.

I clench my jaw and finish my wine. Then, as the waiter who served us comes up with the dessert menu, I order a bourbon. Two, actually, because fuck Demyan.

“I’ve always known you’re a stubborn asshole,” I say to him in English. “But you’re entering award territory.”

“I hear sounds,” he says in Russian. “Buzzing like those little blood-sucking creatures.”

He knows what a mosquito is.

I continue in English, “Some might even say you’re giving your father a run for his money.”

He doesn’t say a thing, just calls Pavel and has a banal conversation with him, asking for reports on the guards who patrol the grounds. Apparently, nothing’s amiss, everyone is doing their jobs, and I’m not sure who’s more bored by this conversation—me, Demyan, or Pavel.

When he finally hangs up, our drinks arrive, and he downs his vodka and orders another.

I sip my bourbon.

This is high-school shit at best and childishness at worst.

Demyan continues to ignore me, this time putting his phone face down and seeming to find the air more interesting than me. I almost reach the bottom of my bourbon as his second vodka arrives.

This time he sips, too.

I sigh. “You know,” I say, switching to Russian, “you’re being childish.”

There’s a part of me that wants to tell him about the pregnancy, but it isn’t the place, and it isn’t my place. So I don’t.

But I’m not letting him off the hook, either.

Demyan may scare a lot of people, but he doesn’t scare me.

What does scare me is he may hurt his sister beyond what he means to, and what Demyan means is not to hurt her at all. A little pain in making her see the light, his light, perhaps, but not real hurt, not to the point where he scars her.

Alina’s been through so much, and she’s come so far. I’m scared he’ll send her tumbling back, and then?—

I shut that down.

Instead, I try to appeal to his better nature.

If he still has one, because right now, I’m not so sure.

“Whatever issues you have with me are things we can either work through or just agree to call it quits on our friendship,” I say to him. “But that doesn’t change the fact—no matter which path you choose—that me and Alina are together, and I’m not about to go anywhere.”

His mouth sets into a hard line.

He looks like he wants to crack skulls.

Starting with mine.

“And you need to get used to that, or you’ll lose your sister,” I say, unwilling to let him off the hook.

“Me losing my sister?” Demyan growls, throws back a big swallow of vodka. “Is this you telling me that you’ll have a say in such a thing?”

“No. I won’t have a say in anything. This is about Alina, and her decisions. What I’m doing is warning you, continue this and she’ll go. We both know it.”

“I don’t need or want your advice, Belov, on how to deal with my own sister. You are nothing more than a blip.” He finishes the rest of his drink, gets up, and storms out.

“Well, fuck,” I mutter with a sigh as I lean back in my chair.

I pull their bill over to me and add it to mine. Then I slide my card inside for both of them and rub my eyes.

It feels like I ran a marathon super hard and came in last.

Honestly, I’m at a loss. I don’t know what else I can do to fix this.

I’ve never seen Demyan like this. Ever.

The man I know, no matter how furious, wouldn’t do this. Wouldn’t turn to stone where nothing could touch him. Sure, he would have hit me, but he’d have laughed by now, softened a little, taken some of the things I’ve given him to save face, and turn it all around.

But he’s not doing that.

The longer this goes on, the deeper he digs in and the more stubborn he is.

Erin and Alina return. They falter, noting I’m alone. Alina looks like she’s about to cry. Erin, on the other hand…

“He left?” Alina whispers.

I get up and slide an arm around her as I meet Erin’s angry gaze. “I tried, but…”

Erin’s eyes narrow. “He left me here? Stranded me here?”

She takes off with Alina behind her. I hand the bills to the waiter and leave a large cash tip on the tables. Then I sign the receipts and go after them.

They’re in the street, where Alina shouldn’t be. Where Erin shouldn’t be. The bodyguard sits in his car, eyes glued to the women, his hand on the door like he’s going to open it and kill the first idiot who looks at them funny.

“That asshole,” Erin snaps and turns, marching into the wine bar next to the restaurant.

“You okay?” I ask Alina.

She nods. “We can’t leave her.”

My brows rise. “ Malyshka , I’d never do that. I was just seeing how you were.”

I nod at the bodyguard as I lead Alina into the bar.

Erin’s not hard to find.

She’s at the bar drinking wine, and I order a glass and my malyshka’s favorite sparkling soda.

Then I stand, a protective barrier for them both.

“I’m sorry, Erin,” I say.

She glares at me. “Why are you sorry? He left me here, not you.”

In a way, I understand his feelings. “He wasn’t thinking. I know he was upset, and this?—”

“Don’t you dare say you understand,” she snaps, poking me. “Would you do that?”

“No, but?—”

“No.” She laughs bitterly. “I don’t put up with tantrums from Sasha and his sister, and I don’t put up with them from Demyan, either. He’s being childish, a spoiled little boy who’s angry he’s not getting his way. He’s making Sasha look mature.”

Alina laughs. “Oh god, you hit the nail on the head. Thank goodness you’re such a good mom.”

“Imagine if Demyan raised Sasha.” She shudders, but beneath the humor, she’s stone-cold serious. “Why can’t he be happy for the two of you?”

“Because,” I say, “he feels betrayed we went behind his back.”

Alina hangs her head, and I squeeze her shoulder.

“Bullshit,” Erin says. “He’d be just as pissed if he knew about you both since day one. Hell, Demyan would be pissed if he’d guessed before you both knew.”

Alina looks stricken as her gaze darts to me. I shift closer to her, wrapping my arm around her.

“Then how do we even deal with that?” she asks.

“I’ll make him come around,” Erin says.

Alina takes a breath. “But?—”

“Things will work out,” I say, speaking over her because I know she’s going to tell Erin not to do anything, but Erin’s on her own mission now. “They always do, and he’s going to feel like shit when he realizes he left you.”

“You don’t think he knows?” Alina asks, face pinched.

“I mean,” I say, “when he realizes the impact of doing that.”

“Demyan?” Erin laughs. “No. He’ll expect you to take me home and not even be grateful.”

I know Erin’s right about everything, including the fact that even if we’d told him on day one, he’d have lost it.

That’s the reason why Alina didn’t want him to know back when it was fake.

But that doesn’t change a thing.

We need to work out a way to move past this. For his family’s sake and for mine.

My family.

“Come and stay with us, Erin,” Alina says.

“Hell no.” I look at Alina. “You’re going back to Demyan’s with Erin.”

“But Albert?—”

“Is fine with me, or I’ll send him over with Gus. Okay?” I trace the line of her cheek.

She sighs. “Okay.”

I pay the bill when Erin finishes her wine. “Come on. I’ll get you both home before Demyan accuses me of kidnapping.”

I pull up outside the mansion, and Erin gets out, stalking off.

Alina glares ahead, and I laugh softly. “You remind me of someone when you look like that.”

She turns the glare on me. “If you say Demyan, I’ll train Albert to bite you.”

“No, you won’t.”

She melts into a smile. “I won’t. I don’t want to go inside like this is a date. It’s not his place to rule over me. I’m of age. I’m married to you?—”

“Strange as it is, I agree with his protectiveness. Not some of his reasons, but the need to keep you safe. I want my place to reflect that, malyshka .”

“I feel safe there, and you know it.”

She does , I realize.

She really does.

I draw her into my arms and kiss her, her mouth soft and sweet with the faintest hint of pineapple from her soda. I run my tongue along the seam of her mouth before deepening the kiss until we’re both lost, hot, and bothered. Shaking.

Kissing Alina just gets better every time. But I have to stop myself, because otherwise, I won’t be able to stop. Fooling around outside Demyan’s mansion isn’t exactly a turn-on.

I cup her face and pepper it with kisses, still slightly dazed this beautiful woman is mine. “I’m sorry our celebratory dinner didn’t go as planned. I promise I’ll make up for it.”

“You will?” The warm tease in her voice rocks me to my toes.

“How about this? I keep Albert tonight. Tomorrow, we have a private dinner, and you stay the night.”

“I’d love that,” she says, kissing me. “I can’t wait to move back in.”

“Baby steps, malyshka .”

“Are you close to finding Melor or the men who took me? I don’t mean that I don’t feel safe. I do, but—” She stops.

I kiss her hand. “But it’ll make it easier with Demyan.” I’m not sure how much I believe that, but that doesn’t matter. “I’m close.”

I think about all the things I was planning on doing, and one thing I can move forward, starting tomorrow.

“I’m upgrading the security at the mansion. New alarms… We changed the passcodes, but new systems are a good idea. Isaak has an expert to help me in the best direction.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Fuck that. I do. Not only because of Melor, but we’re having a baby, so security is important. I want you and our child to be as safe there as you are here.”

“I already am. I trust you wholeheartedly.”

Her words warm me. They really do.

I just wish I believed in myself as much as she does.