Page 8 of Scarlet Vows (Yegorov Bratva #3)

“ Malyshka . You were feeding me. Yes, one of Demyan’s first ventures on his own. It’s on the up-and-up. A revenue maker. He insisted I move in.”

“So it’s secure.”

“Of course it’s secure. Anywhere I am is secure. ”

“Are you going to beat your chest next?”

“You are impossible.”

Her mouth curves. “I think I need to live here. This is bratva stuff we’re talking about. Each bratva seems to keep what they do to themselves, but marriages are looked at. They need to be real. Me living at Demyan’s and you here is too…odd. Unless you move in there?”

Fuck, marrying his sister clandestinely, and then moving in, is not my idea of smart. None of this is smart.

“Don’t push it, malyshka .”

She goes for the tiramisu next, and her eyes roll upwards. “So good.”

“To you, sweet things are always so good.”

“If I’m right, Ilya, I’m right.”

I snort. “If I do take over to get the inheritance, I don’t think I should be living under the roof of another pakhan.”

“I’ll move in here. There’s plenty of room. The bedroom on this floor is big, and with a woman’s touch in here, it’ll be paradise.”

“Aside from you filling my space with god only knows what, how do we explain that to Demyan?” This is it, my way out, so I push it. “We can’t. I think we should forget this, Alina. There are girls who want money, who?—”

“That’s easy,” she says, ignoring me. “Even with the staff, I hate being in that big house by myself. It reminds me of my childhood, of being suffocated.”

She looks down at her glass in her hand as her shoulders lift and fall.

“Alina?”

“And it’s the place I went right after…a-after Max.

” When she looks at me, her devastation smashes my heart.

“My room reminds me of the avalanche of grief. I know I’ve come far, but for a while, I held that grief like it was him, but now…

now it reminds me too much of loss. And our little apartment was sold , so…

I won’t lie and say I’m having nightmares still. I’m not. But Demyan doesn’t know that.”

“Alina.”

“Don’t you dare suddenly hand me sympathy.” Her eyes blaze.

“No way. You’re too spoiled.”

A small laugh breaks through. “We’ll use some of the truth. Just exaggerate it. Demyan’s so uncomfortable around feelings if they’re not for his kids or wife, so he’ll take it and run away. Trust me.”

She’s got it wrong. Well…she’s right. Demyan’s never been the type of man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he loves his sister. He tried to comfort her. He’d never run from her pain.

But I let it go.

“So we tell him what?” I ask.

“I’ve been having nightmares and didn’t want to stay in that mansion alone, so I moved into your spare room. I can tell him I forced myself on you.”

I wince. “Don’t…don’t use those words.”

“Your virtue. Right. We’ll say I just moved in here for the time they were away, and then we can say I like it here or…or…I don’t know. We’ll have two months to figure something out.”

“You really want to move in here?”

“I like the neighborhood. I like the place. It’s big enough that a roommate situation could be believed. If you want, I’ll tell him about all the chicks you bang.”

“Chicks?” I raise my brows and put my drink down as she eats the desserts, like her petite, slender frame is built to absorb the cake into her bones or something.

Maybe she’s hollow because she doesn’t show signs of being full, and she doesn’t offer me any more bites.

“Women. Females of the human variety.” She looks at me as she finishes the dessert. “And just think of the points you’ll get for keeping me safe.”

“Until he finds out.”

“He won’t.”

She says it with such confidence I almost believe her.

“Uh-huh,” I say.

Alina starts to tell me about how she’ll cook for me. Or at least improve her cooking skills. We banter back and forth, and she tugs me out onto the balcony where she curls up in the big swing chair. A small table and an outdoor sofa also sit out there, plus some plants and a grill I haven’t used.

“This is nice. We could have summer evenings out here.” At my lack of an answer, she pouts in the soft lights I turned on. “Don’t you yearn for company?”

“I do all right.”

“That’s not the answer I see. We can play cards, poker. I’m going to be good for you. And you’ll be good for me. I’ll be able to flash a ring when I go out, and men will leave me alone.”

I don’t believe that, but I keep it to myself.

Then I frown. “Alina?—”

“We’ll have a story for Demyan when he gets back, even if it’s just roommates and I helped you out.”

“I thought you didn’t want to tell him.”

“Oh, I don’t. Worst-case scenario. And I don’t need to wear rings around him.” She slaps a hand over her mouth. “I’ll buy them.”

“You know what?” I say. “I think this is a conversation we don’t have time for. I need to get you home.”

She sighs but stands. “Okay, and tomorrow, we’ll get the ball rolling.”

I drive her back to the mansion and then walk her in and up the stairs to the floor where her bedroom is, making sure I stay at the top of the stairs, going no farther .

“Tomorrow?” she asks.

She’s so fucking beautiful that I can’t breathe. What would it be like to kiss her, my lips on hers, the slide of her tongue against mine? Because I want to see if she tastes as sweet and soft as she looks, if her mouth is addictive as I think it is.

This is not the first time the thought’s come to me, and it won’t be the last.

“Tomorrow.” I ruffle her hair. “Good night, Alina.”

Then I turn, her “good night” floating down behind me.

I almost hate myself. We’re going to enter this fake marriage because I let her back me into a corner. And I know I’m going to be thinking about a lot more than kissing her during it. Even though she’s made it clear she’s not interested in anything more.

But I am.

And that’s a shitty place to come from.

The marriage may be fake, but the sentiment from me shouldn’t be. It should be as businesslike as it is to her.

I keep walking out the door and to my car. I make myself turn the key in the ignition. I don’t need to speak to the staff. They’ve got her now. She’s safe.

I drive the fuck out of the property because I don’t want to do something I regret, like go back in there and kiss her.

One thing’s for sure—I’m going to need to keep my feelings in check.

Isaak’s waiting for me Saturday morning at the gym. I’m usually the one there first, especially when I ask him to work out on a weekend. Our weekend workouts are not as set in stone as our weekday workouts.

It’s still dark out, and when we end a brutal ride on the Peloton bikes, and I’ve told him about Alina and the night before, he wheezes with laughter.

“Oh, man…that’s fucking hilarious. The big, brutal strongman I work out with got lassoed and roped up by little Alina? She’s…what? Five-four. You’re six-three? She’s a lil thing. And yet she roped you into this? Did you crumble like a cookie?” Isaak laughs some more, his whole body shaking.

I narrow my eyes. “I couldn’t get out of it.”

“Right, you couldn’t get out of her offer, so you had to agree to her help.” He gets off the bike, stretches, and goes over to the weights. “You…what? Fought hard?”

“Isaak, I will kill you.”

I join him, and he shakes his head.

“You were so hellbent against asking for her help when I suggested it. But when Alina, the girl you definitely don’t have a crush on, offered, you couldn’t say no? Hilarious.”

I pick up the dumbbells and start doing curls. “Shut your mouth.”

He stops grinning. “You know, in all seriousness, this might be your best chance at starting something with her.”

“If I wanted to.”

“You want to, whether you admit it or not.”

I don’t argue his point. But I’m just not ready to make a move. I never will be because it’s not worth it.

I don’t want to start something with Alina and lose her friendship when it all goes wrong.