Page 17

“Walk me through it again,” I insist, knowing I’m probably driving Anya insane with these demands, but honestly, she can join the club because ever since Ella left, I’ve felt pretty insane myself.

“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes, but I must look really pathetic because she indulges me. Or maybe it’s because I piled a lifetime supply of sour candy onto her lap the moment she walked in the door. I’m not above bribes. “Fine. I went over because it was pretty obvious she’d be shaken up after everything went down.”

I sit back on the couch and close my eyes. I’m not sober. Don’t think I have been since Ella left, and this is the closest I can get to her right now—through a story from my sister. Pathetic.

“Then I told her how there’s more to Bratva than crime. That’s about family. Trust. Pride. That the violence is one aspect of it, yes, but that you’ve always kept me safe.”

“And she felt better after that?” I lean forward, elbows on my knees, because after seeing how scared Ella was in the aftermath of the fight, I can’t imagine it. Can’t imagine her ever coming back to me again. If Anya somehow managed that, I’ll make her the queen of the Milov family.

“Well, no, obviously it took a lot more than that,” Anya scoffs like I’m a total idiot. “I talked about what it’s really like when your hotel isn’t getting broken into by a bunch of scary men, and I talked about you. Because, for some reason, she’s kind of into you. Guess she doesn’t know any better. I tried to sell her on a cousin or two, but she didn’t go for it.”

“You’d better hope not,” I warn her, but my glare bounces off of her because she’s my little sister and completely immune to anything her older brother might have to throw at her. A lifetime spent with the men of the Milov family made rubber out of her. “What did you say?”

She throws an empty candy wrapper at me. It flutters ineffectually to the floor a foot away from my shoe. “You’re so egotistical. I don’t even want to tell you because it’s going to go straight to your head.”

“Anya.” I wave my hands in a get on with it gesture.

“Fine,” she relents at last, “but only because you look so pathetic right now that I actually feel sorry for you. She’s got it bad for you, alright? I don’t know why, but it’s pretty obvious she’s head over heels. So I went with that angle, too. Told her you’re a protector, that you wouldn’t let her get hurt, as evidenced by the scene in the hotel.”

Except that was way too close for comfort. The men never should have even gotten into the room in the first place, but that’s on me for not teaching Ella about basic safety. Better to be considered paranoid than to be found dead. If she comes back, and it’s a big fucking if, I’m going to teach her everything she needs to know and then some, because that’s what I should’ve done in the first place. I never should’ve trusted her innocence to act as a shield, and I’ll never forgive myself for putting her at risk.

Anya goes on. “I added in that, of course, I’d be there with her too. I don’t think she has many friends, you know. She moved out here with basically nothing and doesn’t know anyone, so she basically has no support system.”

Don’t I know it. I’m all too aware of how Ella lives, and I hate it. It’s one of the many things that will change if she comes back to me.

“But now she has you,” I prompt her, hoping she’ll get to the part where Ella says she’s changed her mind about resigning. And about me.

“She has me,” Anya repeats, twirling her finger around in front of her face. “What more does she need? I’ll show her the city, introduce her to some of my friends, and she’ll be feeling at home in time. I think she’s going to give it a chance.”

“I owe you,” I tell her, ready to give her the moon even if it’s just a chance that Ella walks through my door again. “You’ve saved me, seriously.”

“Don’t get all gooey on me,” Anya says, wrinkling her nose and popping another sour worm into her mouth. “I did it for Ella. I know how crazy this life is, but I can’t imagine being a stranger to it and going through what she went to. She’s soft, you know that, right? She’s not made for this.”

Her tone is suddenly serious, and she looks older than her years. For the first time, I see her as an adult, not just my little sister, and I can tell she’s going to be formidable. Watch out, world.

“I know,” I say, rolling my shoulders away from my ears. It’s part of what drew me to Ella, after all. “But there’s more to her than that softness. In business, she’s made of steel. I think she can hack it.”

“Do you? Or are you just in love with her and unable to let her go?”

The question, laid bare like that, hits me like a slap. Am I being selfish? If I let Ella go, let her return to her normal life, she’ll be safer than she is with me. No matter how well I protect her, there will always be a target on her just because she’s tied to my family. There’s a flip side to that, though. I’ve seen the life Ella lives on her own, and it’s not pretty, not the life she deserves. I can give her more than that.

It’s the question that’s kept me up at night basically since meeting Ella, but it’s never been more pertinent than now.

“Maybe it’s both.”

One of Anya’s arched brows lifts. “So you admit it. You love her.”

I haven’t even said it out loud to Ella yet so I’m sure as shit not going to say it to my sister first. “Mind your business. Don’t you have somewhere you need to be? A party or something?”

The way she smirks says my non-answer was enough. She gets up and gathers the rest of the candy I bribed her with into her purse, then shrugs it over her shoulder.

“No party. I have work tomorrow, remember? With you, in fact.” She prances out of the room, sugar high and self-satisfied and I know I’m never going to hear the end of it from her. “See you tomorrow, lover boy!”

When the door swings shut behind her and I’m left with nothing but my own thoughts, I reach for the liquor bottle. It’s not healthy, but I’ve already spent three hours in the gym today, and that’s the only other thing that keeps me from ripping my hair out over this mess.

Each day I wake up into a nightmare where Ella is no longer in my life. Her smile isn’t the first thing I see at work. I can’t steal a touch, a glance, anything because she’s just not there. Alone, I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s really, really not. I’m a monster who put my girl at risk, and this is the punishment I deserve.

Anya has given me a dangerous thing—hope. A chance that one day, Ella will walk back in that door. Not that I’ve gone completely without her. No, I’ve given in a time or two to my obsession, driving out to her apartment to watch her shadow pass by the window. It’s the closest I can get to her right now, and it’s not nearly enough, only makes me want her more.

Once, I even risked driving out during the day. It was risky, the chance of her spotting me in the daylight was that much greater, but I managed to follow her to a coffee shop where I got the soul-wrenching view of her job searching on her laptop. I didn’t have to see the job ads to know they were beneath her. Everything was. She should be running a company and living in a penthouse, not barely scraping by working as someone’s secretary.

I hate the thought of that. Her working for some other man when she’s mine. Even though at this point she probably hates my guts and has every right to because when it comes down to it, I lied to her. Why wasn’t I just honest? The answer comes easily enough. Being honest at the jump would have meant losing her before I ever even had her.

The next day, I wake up and do it all over again. I shake off the hangover with a brutal workout that leaves me dripping with sweat, followed by a cold shower to clear my mind. I get dressed, grab the strongest coffee known to mankind, and arrive at the office by eight. Burying myself in work is the only thing getting me by, that and the occasional lunch break trips to Ella’s apartment. The thrill of seeing her, even from a distance, sustains me until the evening when I go home, heat up whatever is in the fridge, and drown my sorrows in far too much booze.

I’m finishing my third coffee of the morning, feeling my heart quicken in response, when she walks in. Ella. I’ve been in this hellscape for so long that I’m pretty sure she’s nothing more than a hallucination, the power of my mind conjuring exactly what I want to see. But the look she gives me is definitely not from my fantasy. Her easy smile is nowhere to be found.

“I’m not promising anything,” she says before I can even say hello. There’s a frown tugging down one corner of her mouth and she’s got her arms crossed over her front like she needs protection from me.

I stand so quickly that my chair thuds against the window, but I don’t care. She’s here. “Of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to.” Even if I’m ready and willing to promise her anything at all.

She looks me up and down. “You look awful.”

It’s so blunt I can’t help but laugh. “I haven’t been sleeping much. Or eating much. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m made entirely of alcohol and coffee at this point.”

“You need to take care of yourself,” she says, softening just a hair, just enough to cluck her tongue over it.

Ella is, as always, looking immaculate. She’s wearing a snug skirt and sweater with some heeled, knee-high boots I recognize from our trip to the shoe shop, which makes me ridiculously happy because I bought those for her. Her jacket is still on, like she hasn’t made up her mind about whether or not she’s staying.

“I’ve had more important things to do.” Like pacing the sidewalk outside her apartment while she sleeps because that’s the closest I can get to her.

She twists a loose strand of hair around her finger over and over. I pick up my empty coffee cup just to give my hands something to do because the air between us is strained and awkward, like we’ve completely started over.

“Anya convinced me,” she admits like a confession. “She wouldn’t let it go, actually, until I told her I’d at least give it a chance. Coming back, I mean. She just showed up at my place.”

“She’s like that. She looks sweet and dainty, but she’s a complete bull, ready to knock over any obstacle in her way.”

“A Milov family trait, it seems.”

“Maybe,” I say, lifting one shoulder. “But it got you here.”

“It did.” She drags out the middle of the word like she’s not entirely certain about her decision. “But I have a condition. If you can’t promise it, then I’ll walk out this door and never look back. Even if you can promise it, I’m not guaranteeing that I’ll stay. It’s just a trial.”

“Anything,” I say at once. It’s really happening. She’s coming back. “Anything you need. Bodyguards, armored cars, whatever it is.”

She presses her lips into a thin line and crosses the threshold, taking a seat across from me at my desk. It’s a look I’m familiar with, the one she wears during business negotiations, and I can’t deny it’s pretty hot being on this side of it. Even if it does spell trouble for me.

“Nothing like that.” Then she reconsiders, head tilting to one side. “Well, maybe some of that, but it wasn’t what I was thinking of. I want you to show me all of it. These past weeks, you’ve hidden the dark side from me. The truth of your business and of your family. No more. You have to show me all of it. The good and the bad.”

I open my mouth to argue because she still doesn’t understand how dark it can get. The Bratva world is not for the fainthearted, and I thought if she came back, I’d still be able to shield her from the worst of it, but here she is asking for it.

She holds up her index finger to stop me before I can start. “I can see you wanting to say no, but let me remind you: if you refuse to be fully honest with me, I’ll walk out this door right now and you’ll never see me again.”

Even if I tell her everything, there’s a chance she’ll choose to walk away. I think back to what Anya said, about Ella not being cut out for the world I really live in. Then I look at Ella. After what I put her through, she still showed up here to talk, no, demand that I give her the whole truth. Anya underestimates her, but I won’t. She can handle it.

“Can you do it?” she asks again. “Can you be honest with me this time? Because what you did before—letting me get involved in all this crap without a single warning—that was bullshit. It can never happen again.”

Is it wrong to admit that I like her like this? It’s kind of hot to see the side of Ella that isn’t afraid to call me out.

“It won’t,” I promise, and silently pray that I won’t regret my latest oath to her. It means laying it all out there even when I think something might frighten her, or change her opinion of me. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know and then some. After that, it’s up to you. Your call.”

“My call.” She holds my gaze for three heartbeats, and God, it takes everything in me not to reach across this desk right now and kiss her. “So, let’s get started.”

It’s going to be a long day.