Page 3 of The Bratva’s Arranged Virgin Bride (Fokin Bratva #8)

My cousins Masha and Lilia were staying in the house with me.

At first, I’d been thrilled, thinking it would be nonstop parties to take my mind off the piece of crap who’d stolen everything from me.

But they were staying in the other wing and keeping their noses to the grindstone to learn the family business.

Even though they were close to my age, they’d grown up completely differently, immersed in the ways of the Bratva while I was kept far, far away from anything even remotely illegal.

Until I got myself caught up in something, anyway.

I made myself a snack I wasn’t really hungry for, and was prepared to mope alone in my room when my uncles Ivan and Nik showed up, making fun of my huge pile of shopping bags still strewn in the entryway.

I hugged them, wondering if I had forgotten a family get-together, but then my cousin arrived.

Matvey assured me that they were just going to have a quick meeting, and I didn’t need to order food.

His tone was as light as always, but his usually dancing blue eyes were clouded with uncharacteristic worry.

Daniil and Rurik showed up within minutes after him, sandy-haired and green-eyed, unlike their darker, older brother.

Right on cue, Masha and Lilia came downstairs from their wing of the mansion, not at all surprised to see everyone there.

I’d gone through a lifetime of being excluded and was just about fed up with it.

It was clear that they’d planned this meeting, possibly even hoping I wouldn’t be home yet, based on the glances they were exchanging with each other.

I might not have thought it was any big deal if it had just been Matvey or maybe one of my uncles, but this was the whole remaining skeleton crew of my family.

Surely, they weren’t plotting something against Arkadi and Mila?

“I’ll get some tea and lemonade,” I said, as they headed into the big living room facing the pool.

They made uncomfortable noises, and as soon as I brought the tray of drinks into the room, they stopped talking. Waiting for me to leave the tray and go, like I was the maid. I sat down instead.

“So, what’s up?” I asked, my mind shifting from Mila. “Is everything okay in St. Petersburg?”

I had just spoken to my father and Katie yesterday evening, but a lot could go wrong in a day.

“Everything’s fine,” Matvey said with his warm smile. “This is just boring stuff.”

He seemed on edge despite doing his best to hide it, and Uncle Nik was fidgety, too.

“Go on, Nat,” he said.

“Let the grown-ups talk?” I asked sarcastically, giving Masha and Lilia a look.

Nobody treated them like delicate flowers. I had never been allowed anywhere near anything considered remotely dangerous. I’d been put through training, but then my father put me back on the shelf where I could look pretty and be safe.

“It’s really nothing,” Lilia said, somewhat apologetically.

“It’s nothing to do with you,” Nik clarified, standing up and pointing to the door. I went out the back, leaving the terrace door open.

Nothing to do with me, my butt. Circling back through the kitchen, I headed upstairs to the room directly over the living room and out onto the balcony.

I was embarrassed to be tossed out like that.

It wasn’t like I’d been in the greatest mood since I returned from Milan with my tail between my legs, and my already bruised feelings were stung by the dismissal.

Which was why I was determined to listen in. With the big sliding glass doors left open, I could hear everything they said floating up to where I sat in the early evening breeze off the garden. If my father were in danger, I deserved to know.

It only took a few minutes to figure out it had nothing to do with anything going on in St. Petersburg, at least, I didn’t think so. There was something about not liking something and needing more intel. They couldn’t be more cryptic if they had known I was listening.

I wasn’t in my spot for more than ten more minutes when the sound of the front doorbell chimed up through the doors to me. Lilia offered to get it, but Matvey told her to stay put in a warning tone, leaving one of the guards to usher the newcomer in.

I was shocked at the icy greeting they all gave the new person. Why were they being so cold toward someone they must have invited to the meeting? With my curiosity at maximum levels, I leaned closer to the edge of the balcony as if I could see who it was.

Then the person spoke, and I froze in place, not needing to see anything.

That voice. One that used to make me smile just to hear a single word.

One I used to look forward to hearing, that made me want to wrap myself up in its rich, deep tones.

Now, it made my hands clench around the balcony railing until my knuckles were white.

No, I didn’t need to see to know exactly who was speaking.

I wasn’t wrong. I knew that voice because it still haunted my dreams. I had been searching for him without any luck for months. And now the piece of crap who stole everything from me was right downstairs.