Page 29 of Sold to the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #6)

Out of all four of his siblings, his sister’s smile was the biggest, her teeth gleaming in the light when she screamed “ Surprise! ” and then tackled Maeve in a hug that knocked the wind right out of her.

Fedya pressed his fingers deep into his temples, drawing soothing circles, willing himself not to lose his shit over his siblings’ unexpected visit.

It wasn’t that much of a surprise anyway.

He was barely answering their calls or texts, only letting them believe he was busy.

It was only a matter of time until they pulled this kind of stunt, inviting even Ilya, who was supposed to be busy with his kids.

Viktor and Kostya poured into the kitchen like a storm while Irina and Ilya stood with Maeve at the door, saying things to her he couldn’t hear. But Maeve was smiling, accepting Ilya’s hand, so it was clear he was finally introducing himself.

“Fedya’s cooking for a woman,” Viktor said with a grin, peeking into the pot like a curious child. “My God, this is historic.”

Kostya snorted, tugging the fridge open and grabbing a can of beer. “Next thing we know, he’ll be writing poetry and quoting Dostoevsky.”

Fedya reluctantly tore his gaze from Maeve and narrowed in on his brothers. “Mind telling me what the fuck you’re all doing here without a notice?”

“You disappear for one week.” That was Ilya who had slapped him on the back. “And everyone thinks you’re either dead or married.”

Maeve glanced back at Fedya, who stood frozen next to Irina in the kitchen doorway. Irina, who wouldn’t stop chatting her ears off about God knows what.

“I will, in fact, kill you all before you leave.”

“After dinner, though,” Irina said, jutting a thumb towards the door. “We brought vodka.”

Viktor’s eyes slid to Maeve, a loose grin playing on his lips before moving back to Fedya. “Also, the last time we asked, it seemed like you two just became a thing—”

“I’m pretty sure I said we met a few months ago—”

“—and now you’re holed up together in the middle of nowhere. Are those wedding bells I’m hearing, or am I just going deaf?”

“Don’t be dumb,” Fedya said. “We’re not living together.”

“I just came to spend some time with him,” Maeve chimed in naturally, smiling at all of them. “I’m only staying the weekend.”

“I’d be offended if I were you,” Kostya said, looking around. “Of all places in the world, he brings you to a house with no curtains and bolt-locks on every door.”

“Interesting choice of location,” Viktor said.

“Privacy,” Fedya explained with a fed-up sigh. “I brought her here for privacy. The kind you’ve all just ruined, thank you very much.”

They laughed at that, unbothered by his irritation.

His siblings weren’t subtle creatures, but they were loyal and they loved each other more deeply than anything.

When one disappeared too long without a known mission, the others noticed—even if it meant crashing into a quiet house and turning it into a raucous warzone for the night.

“As you can see,” Fedya stated, gesturing to himself. “I’m alive and well.” Then he pointed at the front door. “There’s the door. You can return from where you came.”

Irina laughed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Fedya. It’s game night, remember? Every last Saturday of the month? We decided to bring the game with you since you were absent from the estate.”

Right, that. Of course.

Fedya appreciated the gesture, but he was still very much tempted to send them away.

Taking Maeve as his date to an event and introducing her to his siblings was one thing.

However, having them storm into the privacy of this house was another.

The last thing he wanted was for her to feel overwhelmed by their rambunctiousness, even as the adults they were.

But then he heard Maeve, with interest in her voice, asking, “What kind of game?”

“The best kind,” Viktor grinned, holding up a box marked Cards of Ruin: Family Edition .

Bored of Fedya, Viktor, and Kostya left him to join Ilya, Irina, and Maeve in the living room.

Maeve sat cross-legged on the couch beside Irina, a genuine smile on her face as Kostya ripped the box open.

Ilya said something about how he was certain she would love it since Valentina was addicted to it.

Kostya said he wouldn’t be shy to beat Maeve just because she was pretty.

And she was laughing, tucking her hair behind her ear as she eagerly watched Viktor set the table.

The only time Fedya had seen her this relaxed was when he watched her paint through the CCTV. And now that he noticed that she didn’t seem to mind being around his siblings, he felt at ease.

He wrapped up dinner and stepped back from the kitchen. “I’m going to wash off the smell before dinner. Keep your dirty hands off my food.”

“No promises,” Viktor called after him.

After his bath, he headed straight to the security terminal tucked in the linen closet, about to check the security footage as he did regularly, even more obsessively now that Maeve had been spending so much of her time in that studio.

But it was different tonight. He wasn’t just watching her paint with the usual furrow between her brows, the usual concentration in her eyes, the usual bite of her lip as she stroked paintbrushes across the canvas.

She was half naked, legs spread out on the floor, her fingers between her thighs, her eyes locked on the camera.

On him.

He clenched his teeth as he watched her play with her pussy.

She’d known he would see it. Hell, she wanted him to.

That would explain why her eyes hadn’t moved from the camera even once.

There was no mistaking that bold, brazen stare, inviting him with every breathless moan, every roll of her hips, every bite of her bottom lip as she fucked herself to an orgasm.

His knuckles were whitened around the edge of the desk as he leaned forward, jaw tightening when she sucked herself off her fingers. Was this just her way of keeping him distracted? Of letting his guard down? Because it was working a little too well.

He’d fucked her once, and it had ruined him.

He’d fucked himself too many times after that, his pleasure heightened whenever he smelled her through her panties or wrapped them around his cock as he stroked himself.

He hadn’t touched her again, not physically, giving himself time to figure out how to maneuver his feelings for her, the realization that he was going in too deep with her.

And now here she was, crawling under his skin with everything she did, making a home for herself in his brain and in his heart.

Minutes after taming his cock, he returned to the living room to find it cozier than he’d left it.

Irina had taken the lead, her legs tucked up beside Maeve, gesturing animatedly as she spoke.

Kostya lounged in an armchair, shuffling a deck of cards.

Ilya was on the phone, and Viktor was already opening bottles of vodka, passing shots to everyone in the room.

Viktor noticed him first. “Look who decided to join us!” he announced with a cheer, drawing the attention to him. “Come here, baby brother.”

Fedya’s eyes slid from his brother to Maeve, and he could feel it—the tension simmering between them. He stared at her like he was trying to tell her that he knew what she’d done, and the corner of her lip lifted, her smirk triumphant as he walked into the living room.

Kostya tossed his shot back and nodded like it hit the spot. “Alright, now that you’re here, let’s make this fun. Maeve, are you any good at poker?”

“I can hold my own,” she smiled.

“Perfect.” He dealt the cards. “Let’s play for real money.”

Irina grinned, shifting closer to her brother. “Sorry, Maeve, but I’m on Kostya’s team.”

Viktor stood dramatically, shaking his arms by his sides before moving to Maeve. “Then I’m on hers. Let’s go, Team—what’s your favorite color, Maeve?”

“Black,” Fedya answered confidently. He’d observed her too much not to be able to come to the conclusion that that was her favorite color.

Maeve bit her smile. “I don’t actually have a favorite color,” she said. “ But , if I had to choose, then yes, it’d be black.”

Viktor clapped. Fedya suspected he was tipsy. “Let’s go, Team Black.”

Ilya had gone to the corner, away from the noise, to continue his phone call. He was spewing some nonsensical baby talk, so it was obvious who his caller was.

Fedya sat, folding his arms as he played a quiet spectator.

Maeve fumbled at first, uncertain of Kostya’s bluffs.

His brother was loud, cocky, and exaggerated in every sense of the word.

It was funny watching him be an asshole with a shit-eating grin on his face.

But then, after a few rounds, Fedya watched with a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Maeve’s focus sharpened, her rounds lethal, catching Kostya and Irina by surprise.

By the time the last round hit, Viktor threw his arms up. “Fuck yes. She wiped the floor with your ass, Brother. I’m a little embarrassed for you to be honest.”

Maeve’s laughter reached her eyes. Irina separated herself from Kostya like he were a germ. “Remind me never to bet against you, Maeve.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling settled in Fedya’s chest as he watched the chaos of Kostya explaining why he lost unfold before his eyes. He was pleased with what he saw, pleased that Maeve engaged with his family like they were her own.

And he let himself wonder what would happen when he finally told his family the truth about her.