Page 6 of Scarlet Promise (Yegorov Bratva #4)

Chapter Five

ALINA

Someone’s kissing my cheek, and it makes me smile. I don’t know when Ilya got so furry and his nose so cold and wet, but?—

I wake.

Melting brown eyes, full of love and excitement, stare into mine. Albert barks joyfully.

“Albert!” My heart swells and warmth and light and love flood me.

I hug him tight.

My head still hurts, but right now, it doesn’t really seem to matter like it did before, not with Albert here. Albert honestly, truly well and alive.

I squeeze his little warm body until he huffs and wiggles to get free.

I release him, and he gives me a disapproving look before barking softly and hurtling back at me for more doggy kisses and a big snuggle.

I’ll take it.

The only thing that’d make it better is Ilya.

But he’s not here. It’s just me and Albert.

I wasn’t allowed to sleep that much last night because of my concussion—doctor’s orders. Erin stayed with me. But in the early hours of the morning, the doctor returned and allowed me to finally sleep.

I didn’t go back to Ilya’s. Demyan refused to let me, and he even took my phone so I wouldn’t be distracted when resting.

So how did Albert…?

My heart leaps while I pet his furry head. “Is Ilya here? Did he bring you with him? I bet he did.”

I kiss Albert, get up, shower, and dress, pausing in front of the mirror and taking in the big bruises on my face. I touch one tenderly. It’s sore, but it’s nothing that makeup won’t fix.

I almost dig some out, but I decide to leave it. All the stuff here is old, and right now, the bruises are my battle scars. They show me I met real danger and survived.

With a sigh, I turn away, and Albert barks.

I ruffle his fur. “Come on. Let’s see if Ilya’s here.”

Albert wags his tail like crazy and rushes to the shut door. He stops, turns, his tail batting against the wood.

I go over and open it, and then Albert and I hurry down the stairs of Demyan’s place, my childhood home, one that’s full of the distant sounds of laughing, shouting children.

I stop at Demyan’s office, the one where I used to find Ilya when he’d be here working. But it’s empty.

Almost. My phone’s on his desk.

Scowling, I cross over to the desk and snatch it up, noting his computer’s still on. A single mug is next to the laptop, and I touch it. Barely warm.

Demyan’s here, somewhere, but I don’t think Ilya is. I don’t sense the tension that filled my bedroom prison in the cabin when the two were in there and when my brother dragged me out.

“How did you get here, Albert?”

We look at each other, but he just barks.

“You’re probably hungry.” I crouch down and pet him. “I’m so glad you’re okay, and I’m glad that your daddy rescued me so we could be together. So where is he? You miss Ilya, too, don’t you?”

He whines. I know how he feels.

The thing that kept me together was always right there in the back of my mind. Staying alive to come home to Ilya and Albert was my hidden rock. That thing I needed to have and hold tight.

And now I’m here at Demyan’s, safe, but with no Ilya in sight.

With a sigh, I straighten and head to the kitchen so I can feed myself and Albert.

“Well, if he’s not here, we’ll call him.” I flick onto my call log and see he called me last night.

But it’s not a missed call; it was answered. Maybe Demyan told him to bring Albert? But when did he take my phone?

I rub my temple and press call, eager to talk to him.

The phone rings out to voicemail, so I leave a message. “Ilya, where are you? Albert’s here, but I guess you know. I wish…” I swallow my words, everything still so new, and with all that’s happened, I’m suddenly overwhelmed. “Call me back. I— We miss you.”

I disconnect the call, and as I head down the hall, my phone starts to vibrate. A thrill hits me, shooting my heart high. But it’s not Ilya.

“Isla!” I answer.

There were a ton of missed calls from her, too.

“Where have you been?”

“It’s a long story…” I proceed to tell her everything, from being blindsided by the man with the message about Max’s killer, which turned out to be a lie, to being rescued and Demyan dragging me here.

She lets out a low, long breath. “I’m… I don’t know if I have words. Girl, you know if Ilya did know anything, he’d tell you to your face, right?”

“I know,” I whisper. “It blindsided me. And even if I didn’t believe this man or wasn’t in shock, I think that the guy would have just taken me.”

She snorts. “Of course he would’ve. Asshole. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I look horrible with my bruises, but I’m okay.”

There’s silence, then Isla says, “Alina, it’s me.”

Some of my walls crumble at those soft words. I swallow and lick my lips.

“I’m… I’m not great. Albert was here at Demyan’s this morning, but no Ilya, and Demyan’s pissed at him. Probably at me, too. So yeah, not great, but I will be. I just need time to process, you know?”

“I know you’ll be okay because I’m going to visit as soon as I can, and I’ll be calling you every day.”

The fierce loyalty in her voice makes me smile.

Albert and I pause outside the kitchen, where the aroma of frying bacon wafts out. I think I may be able to stomach yoghurt.

“I’ll be good.”

“You know it.” Isla pauses. “And give Demyan time. He’s a pigheaded know-it-all, but he loves both you and Ilya.”

“I know.” I ring off.

But while I know that, I’m afraid of it, because that love for both of us may make him feel betrayed. Demyan’s had enough of that from our father, who made him feel like he was never good enough, who put others before his own son, who took credit and gave credit to others for things Demyan did.

I can see him putting this in that world of betrayal.

Albert’s ears perk, and he races off, barking, through the kitchen, out the door, and into the back garden. The kids scream with joy at the sight of him.

Erin takes the food off the burner and hurries over to hug me tightly. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” She gestures to the bacon. “Breakfast. Sasha demanded it, and what Sasha wants, Nadya wants, too.”

I shudder and help myself to a plain yoghurt, the stuff I like, and get a spoon. “I don’t think I can stomach more than this right now.”

Erin finishes the bacon and puts it on a plate with paper towels and then into the oven to keep warm. She flicks on the kettle and makes me a toasted rice tea.

Then she sits at the table opposite me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry if I’m the reason you and Demyan cut your trip short.”

Erin laughs and shakes her head. “You try traveling with Sasha. He’s as headstrong as his Dino.

” Her mouth quirks as she uses the word Sasha used to say when trying to say Demyan when he was two.

“But honestly, I was sick of traveling. I wanted to come home early. Small kids and extended hotel hopping are exhausting. I’m glad to be home. ”

“There you are.” Demyan walks into the kitchen, kisses Erin, and sits at the head of the table, a sign of him wanting to assert himself.

There’s no smile, no softness to him. Just a coldness that translates into deep-seated fury, one he’s trying to keep under control.

Normally, I’d try to find the right words, try and placate him, but I’m not in the mood. And I don’t think he has a right to be so angry.

Not at Ilya.

Not at me.

“Out with it,” I mutter, folding my arms.

He sighs. “Alina, the last thing I want to do is fight, but what the actual fuck? Did you lose your fucking mind? Since when do you keep shit from me? Especially something this big. Marrying fucking Ilya? What’s wrong with you?

Do you need a replacement for Max so desperately that you settled for Ilya? My fucking servant?”

I recoil like he’s slapped me. Even Erin gasps.

And he’s not done.

“Because at the end of the day, it’s what he is.

A grunt, someone too weak to keep control of anything except orders.

He couldn’t even step into a dead man’s shoes without fucking up.

Without having one man want a coup. Without getting his men slaughtered.

Without having that man, his so-called second, double-cross him.

Without putting you in danger. He’s a menace, and he’s not even good enough to polish your shoes. ”

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

Servant?

Not good enough?

He’s saying Ilya’s also reckless.

I can’t even begin to believe the words from my brother’s mouth, and yet when I meet his gaze, I can see he believes them.

“Demyan,” I whisper.

“Keep the fuck away from a menace like Ilya, and that’s an order,” he snaps.

Erin turns to him. “Ilya’s a good man, Demyan. What do you want? For your sister to be in mourning for Max the rest of her life? Because she’ll miss him always. I know that, but she needs to live again.”

“He’s not good enough,” Demyan says. “There are a thousand men better than Ilya, and I’ll find her one.”

“No, you won’t,” I say.

Demyan’s eyes slide over me with contempt. “I’m your big brother. I’m in control, and you’ll have no say, understand?”

“Like hell?—”

“Demyan, stop,” Erin says over me. “You’re upset over your best friend and your sister?”

“It’s not a real marriage,” he snaps.

She glances at me but doesn’t say a word to the contrary. “Whether it is or isn’t is immaterial. Your friend and your sister like each other. I like him. He’s the only person outside of Max I’ve seen who makes her smile. And?—”

“Go see to the children, Erin.”

“Excuse me?” she asks.

“You heard me.”

They stare at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment, but finally she looks away.

She stands and looks at me. “I like Ilya, and he makes you smile. You’re happy around him. Happiness shouldn’t be ignored.” She turns to her husband. “And unless you want a divorce, I’d suggest you think about that, too. Because right now, I’m not happy.”

“Erin,” he warns.

“Demyan.” She leans in and kisses him. “This is your sister. You love her. Behave.”

She heads outside with Albert and my nephew and niece.

“Fucking Erin,” he says, his voice soft and full of love.

I believe she may be the only person in the world who can get away with speaking to him like that.

I used to think I was that person, too. I never pushed him, but I always thought he’d do anything to see me happy.

But then he looks at me, and his eyes turn hard.

My happiness isn’t on his agenda right now.

“So. Alina.” His eyes don’t soften. “What I want to know is since when do you keep things from me? Especially something this fucking big?”

And there it is, the underlying betrayal of locking him out of my life, of not telling him.

I sigh. “I didn’t tell you because you were away.” I swallow. “That’s not true. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d make a big deal of it.”

“Of course I’m making a fucking big deal of it,” he says, erupting. “You nearly died, and it’s all Ilya’s fault. That….cunt, who thinks he can step in and take what’s mine. Sully my sister. I just might kill the fuck with my bare hands after all.”

“You don’t believe that,” I whisper, stricken. “Ilya’s like a brother to you. And Erin’s right. He’s a?—”

“Erin’s a soft-hearted fool,” he snarls. “And you’re my family, as are my wife and children. It ends there. He’s nothing. You hear me? Nothing but a fucker who did his best to get you killed, and you will keep away from him.”

I frown at him, my heart clenching. “I’m a big girl who can make her own decisions. And you know as well as I do that this isn’t Ilya’s fault. None of this is.”

Demyan slams a hand on the table. “Not good enough. I won’t accept it.”

“You have to.”

“I don’t have to do shit, Alina. Until this fucking bastard Melor and his buddy Simonov are caught and killed, you’ll tell me your every move.” He stands. “No, I don’t trust you, so I’ll know your every move. You’ll have a fucking bodyguard twenty-four seven. For your own safety.”

With that, he stalks off.

Erin steps back in and raises her hands. “I heard every word. I’m sure rural Illinois heard him. I’m sorry he’s being like this. He loves you, and you know how he can get.”

She smiles at me sympathetically.

“I know,” I say.

“Demyan will calm down. He loves you both. It’s just a lot.” She sits and puts her hand on mine. “This thing with Ilya’s real, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I know Max would approve. If he could choose someone for you, it would be Ilya. He’s a good man, worthy, and he’s someone who’ll make you happy. I see how he looks at you, how he always has.”

“Don’t…don’t tell Demyan.”

She rolls her eyes. “I won’t, but I think deep down, he knows. And he doesn’t like change. He’s scared for you. But do you want to know the stupid thing? If Demyan sat down and thought about it, Ilya would be his choice for you. It’s just…he didn’t choose. So he’s feeling out of control.”

“Either that or he thinks we’ve betrayed him.”

Erin shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t. He’ll calm down, Alina. You’ll see.”

I nod, pretending to agree. But inside, I’m not really sure.

I’ve seen Demyan mad before.

But this?

It’s a whole new level.

He may never forgive us, and if he doesn’t, I don’t know what to do.

How can I choose one if I lose the other?