Page 37 of The Bratva’s Innocent Sold Bride (Fokin Bratva #9)

My idiot father nearly gave me a heart attack when he popped out of the hotel restaurant and tried to get me to leave with him.

Had he actually gone off the deep end due to guilt over giving me to a mafia kingpin as payment for his debt?

I was in no way ready to forgive him, even if living with Mat wasn’t the torture he first made me believe it would be.

That didn’t mean I was going to risk his life on a stupid plan to run away.

I was so stressed that Mat might see him in the hotel if he didn’t listen to me and was still hanging around, that when we finished breakfast, I asked if we could just go home.

Leaning across the table, I lightly touched the bruised area around the cut near his hairline.

It wasn’t as bad as it initially looked, but we’d heard that Ivan had a broken ankle, Dima had a concussion, and his arm had been grazed by a bullet, and Max had cracked ribs.

Mat’s shrug that they’d been through worse wasn’t reassuring.

I had been part of an actual firefight, and while there was a certain exhilaration buzzing in my veins, I kept thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong.

It wasn’t just my father who had me wanting to go home.

“I don’t think I can muster the energy for sightseeing or shopping, and nobody in your family’s going to be in the mood for another big dinner.”

“You’re right,” he said, agreeing quickly and easily. “I have some things to take care of at home, anyway, that probably shouldn’t wait.”

“Will I have anything to do when we get home?” I asked hopefully.

He grinned, taking my hand from where it rested on his cheek and kissed my palm. “You can start work again as soon as I wrap up a few things.”

“When?” I asked.

“When I tell you. Not long though.”

There wasn’t any point in pressing the issue since he’d only refuse to tell me what he needed to wrap up, but I was happy enough to be able to keep my beloved office and still be helpful.

I was downright excited to get back home.

Funny how I thought of it as home now. I had an opportunity to be out of this, and I threw it away.

Was it really because I feared for my father’s life or…

Yes. Of course, it was that. What else could it be?

We both napped on the jet, not getting much sleep the night before, and once we were back in Silicon Valley, Mat asked me if I wouldn’t mind having takeout for dinner.

“Maybe watch a movie, have a few drinks?” he asked.

“Sounds perfect,” I answered honestly, directing him to a greasy burger stand that had the best sweet potato fries in all of Silicon Valley. “We could use a relaxing evening.”

He smiled, almost wistfully, his blue eyes searching mine. “I like how you say that.”

“Say what?”

“We,” he answered. “Both of us, together.” He kept looking at me until the girl at the window waved the bag of food at him.

He was in an odd mood, and I didn’t think it was the near brush with death, since he’d already put the fight far from his mind.

But he was thinking about something, I could tell that much.

I wished he had told me what he was so eager to get taken care of, but knew better than to ask.

Being ignored or told not to worry about it would only put me in a bad mood.

At home, the evening was much cooler than in LA, but the sky was clear, and we decided to eat out by the pool, wrapped up in cozy sweaters.

It was a bit incongruous to see Mat in jeans and a thick wool sweater instead of his tailored suits.

He was like a teddy bear if teddy bears regularly got into gunfights.

Damn handsome too, to the point I couldn’t keep my hands off him, always reaching to touch his arm or his knee while we ate our burgers and sweet potato fries with an aged red wine.

As the stars started to blink to life in the rapidly darkening sky, he asked me how I felt about his family.

“You can be honest,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I really do like them all. I can’t believe they’re so welcoming. I mean, I’m a complete stranger who just popped up in your life, but they treat me like I’m one of them.”

“You are one of us,” he said, making my heart feel strangely warm and too big for my chest. “Because I say so. Because you make me happy.”

I laughed. “Well, they think that, don’t they?”

His brows shot together, but he didn’t contradict that they were operating under an illusion.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he was going to enact his revenge on my father for the rest of our lives.

Did he really mean to stay married to me, or did this ruse have an expiration date?

But I couldn’t, because for some reason, I didn’t want to know.

Things weren’t bad. They were pretty good. He told me I could go back to work soon, and I was excited about a new project. Before I could ask about that, instead of the tenuous state of our marriage, he brought up my father, and my blood chilled.

“What?” I pretended not to hear, unable to make eye contact because the single word sounded like the worst acting in the lamest B movie ever.

“How’s your father?”

Did he read my mind? Was it somehow written all over my face that I talked to him only that morning? I shrugged, shaking my head, forcing myself to remain calm and speak normally.

“I guess he’s fine. I haven’t seen him since the wedding. I don’t really care to talk to him,” I said. The last part was true, anyway.

His look was inscrutable as he stood, leaning down to kiss me gently on the cheek. Wasn’t that the sign I was on a hit list or something, according to old mafia movies? His smile was rueful as he told me he had some things to do.

“But what about the movie?” I asked.

No answer. He was gone. I spent the next hour pacing, getting the dog all worked up as I went over what just happened in my head.

I finally relaxed, sure Mat was just being his normal, reticent self, and it was something he thought I didn’t need to worry about.

Since I’d already had the shock of a lifetime the night before, he didn’t want to upset me and was downplaying leaving in a hurry.

There was no way he knew about my father’s impromptu visit to LA, or he would have just said something, at the very least. At the most, he’d drag my dad over here and teach him a lesson.

It wasn’t easy, but to keep the peace when Mat came home, I put Artem in his own room for the night, giving him a handful of extra treats to make up for it. However, Mat never came home.

His side of the bed wasn’t even rumpled when I woke up in the morning. Throwing caution to the wind, I called my dad, demanding to know if he’d heard anything from Mat or any of his people.

“No one was following you?”

“I’m sure of it, CJ. I only wanted to try to make things right.”

“Well, stop it. I mean it.” I hung up, feeling a little better, though guilty for snapping at him.

I needed a major distraction, and since caution was already in the wind, I decided to try to go to the office. Mat never explicitly told me how long I had to wait. I asked the driver when he could be ready, and instead of laughing in my face, he snapped to attention and told me whenever I was.

“As soon as I get Artem,” I said, hurrying out back to collect him.

He was as eager as I was to get going, and we both perked up as the building came into our sight.

The guards had been notified that work was resuming, and I greeted them rather smugly.

My beautiful computers were waiting for me, just where I left them.

The only problem was that I didn’t have anything particular to do.

The Terrence Hendricks project was a dead end.

Still, I couldn’t help wondering if my programs found anything new.

A quick check showed that I’d uncovered a list of properties under all the corporations I’d been able to tie to the tech genius, including many in Moscow.

Even though I thought the Russian ties were interesting, it wasn’t anything useful to Mat.

I couldn’t call him and ask him if he’d be interested in this list since I wasn’t technically supposed to be there, but I could clean up some loose ends and email the final findings to Delta.

By the end of the day, when I returned home safely, Mat would see that there was no reason to wait and give me a new project right away.

But first, coffee. Reaching into the cupboard for the can, it was suspiciously light, and when I opened it, there was only a fine, brown dust on the bottom.

Well, the guards weren’t going to be happy about that, either, since I usually brought them each a cup before I got settled in and before their game shows got started.

“Hey guys, we’re out of coffee,” I said, showing them the can. “I’ll go get some from that stand around the corner.”

“Nope, I’ve got this.” One of them jumped up I thought it was Josef, but they could have been big beefy twins, so it was hard to tell.

“Well, in that case, let me give you a list if you don’t mind. The snacks are dangerously low as well.”

He followed me into the main office while I inspected the cupboards and fridge, writing out a list. I hadn’t eaten breakfast in my haste to get there, so my stomach was making me add things we didn’t really need.

“I think you’re both going to have to go,” I said. “This is a regular grocery run.”

“Ha, not likely,” Josef replied.

I actually stamped my foot in irritation. Then my phone dinged, and I looked at it while I thought of reasons why I shouldn’t be allowed to stay here alone, with the driver parked outside under his favorite tree, for fifteen minutes. It was a text from Mat, saying he’d be there in five minutes.

I sighed, holding it up. “Mat’s just down the street. I guess I have to admit it’s possible I’m not supposed to be here. But don’t worry, I’ll take the blame, and he might not be mad when he sees the new info I’ve got.”

He ignored my chipper assurances and swore. The other one in the front heard and stood in the doorway, repeating the colorful curse. Then both their phones buzzed, and they seemed to get an urgent message that had them reverting from buddy mode to armed guard mode in a blink.

“The cameras are showing something’s up just outside the office park,” Josef said. “We need to move.”

I expected to be picked up and hustled out of there like a rolled-up carpet, but instead, they told me to lock myself in until Mat arrived.

No amount of asking what was going on would get them to answer me, and they took off before I could try, only pausing at the front door to make sure I locked it.

Then I turned off the lights in the reception area and hunkered down in the back. More than five minutes went by, but I was determined not to work myself into a tizzy, instead rolling a tennis ball across the floor for Artem to chase.

As I was about to give up acting like I wasn’t worried and call Mat, someone knocked on the door. Not exactly pounding, but still urgent-sounding. Peeking around the edge of the door, I could clearly see through the darkened front room and out the glass panel that it wasn’t Mat.

“It’s Garik,” he called. “Mat asked me to pick you up. Mrs. Fokin, it’s important that you come with me.”

I had never met Garik, but I’d heard plenty about him. Mat trusted him with his life. I went out and inspected him, but one big Russian was as good as another.

“Show me your ID,” I demanded.

He smiled. “Good for you. Mat will be pleased.”

“If this is some kind of test to teach me a lesson for—”

He cut me off, pressing his driver’s license against the glass door. “Not a test. He needs me to bring you to him.”

“Is he okay?” The ID checked out, and I opened the door, snapping for Artem.

“He’s fine. But the dog should stay here.”

“Not going to happen. He’ll be scared. Call your boss; neither one of you will win this one.”

He swore under his breath, but didn’t argue and as soon as I had the leash on Artem, we headed out.

His car was darkly tinted, and for a split second, I hesitated while he opened the back door, not sure what I’d see.

But the backseat was empty, and Artem leaped in, his tongue lolling and his tail wagging, not a care in the world.

I followed, and Garik got in the driver’s seat and took off, speeding away from the office park.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Fokin. We’ll be there soon.”

Not exactly the truth, because we drove for a good half an hour before stopping at a boarded-up gas station in a seedy neighborhood I didn’t recognize.

But it wasn’t like the warehouses in LA had been in the best part of town, either.

Another car pulled out from behind the dilapidated building, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn’t Mat’s car, but this had to be him.

I hurried out, with Artem on my heels, jumping for joy as I told him we were meeting Papa. Garik opened the back door of the new car, and I put Artem in before reaching for the front door handle.

“What’s this about?” I asked Mat as I pulled it open and leaned in.

But it wasn’t Mat. By the way his fingers were suddenly digging into my arm, the man who brought me here wasn’t Garik, either. He shoved me into the car and slammed the door. I swiveled to grab the handle, but it was already locked.

“Get the mutt out,” the driver said.

Fake Garik yanked on Artem’s leash, making him yelp as he dragged him out.

“No,” I shouted, pounding on the window.

As I watched the other man let go of Artem’s leash and chase him off into the trees behind the gas station, tears filled my eyes, and I tried to scramble between the seats and climb into the back to go after him.

The mysterious driver pulled me back in, and we skidded out of the lot with a squeal of tires.

“What are you doing?” I screamed, trying to catch sight of Artem. My heart was breaking, thinking about how scared he must have been.

“All in good time.”

We were going so fast, I reached for my seatbelt and snapped it on, leaning as far away as possible from the stranger who’d abducted me. It took me a beat to realize I knew him, though. Knew him better than he could ever imagine. It was Terrence Hendricks, and he didn’t look happy.