Page 17 of Trapped by the Bratva (The Valkov Bratva #5)

HANNAH

T he guard Ivan sent with me was a younger man who didn’t smile.

I supposed that hardly made a difference.

He walked a steady three feet behind me, like a protective dog on a leash.

Also like a dangerous canine ready to bare his teeth and growl at anyone who got too close, he eyed our surroundings with a hawkish glower.

As though he counted on something suspicious and was eager to act on eliminating the threat.

When we reached the coffee shop, I saw that Melissa was already there, seated at a bistro table.

A tall iced coffee sat in front of her, and as soon as I approached, she slid the bill to me.

Then she emphasized her slant to the side, spotting the Valkov guard who was as stoic and unemotional as one of the guards in full gear at the Buckingham Palace.

“That’s your sugar daddy?” she asked, raising her brows.

I sat, staring at her deadpan. “No.”

“Then who’s he? A boyfriend?”

She erred with the same mistake I had of seeing Becca with a security detail. I guessed that it made sense. It was a logical assumption, seeing a man with you and no one else.

“He’s, uh, more like a bodyguard.”

Melissa’s eyes damn near bugged out. “What?”

I shrugged. It felt weird to say that I had one. I wasn’t anyone important. Like I told Ivan, I was a nobody. As someone associated with the Bratva, I saw why I’d fall under their blanket offer of protection.

“Why the hell do you need a bodyguard?” I had her full attention now. She perked up, glancing between me and the Valkov guard.

“I don’t.” Okay, now I sound stupid, contradicting myself. “My employer does, and he asked me to have one stick with me when I leave the premises.”

She whistled. “Holy shit, Hannah. Who is this guy? Who are you working for?”

I shook my head. “Just helping with physical therapy for some man.”

“ Some man?” Melissa scowled. “Who?”

“No one you would know.”

“Come on. Don’t be vague like that. He’s got to be rich if he’s got a bodyguard to trail after you.”

Wealthy, powerful, and deadly.

“And if you have enough money already…” She watched me set the envelope on the table and slide it over. “How much is he paying you?”

“You’ll never know.”

She slitted her eyes, scowling fully. “Greedy bitch.”

“Says the lazy ass who has never worked a day in her life.”

“I’m talking about you. Not me. How much are you making for this rich bastard?”

“I’m not telling you a single fucking thing.” I tapped my finger to the envelope, and she snatched it closer to her chest, as though she worried I’d take it back. “You asked me for that amount. And that. Is. It.”

“You must be making bank, huh?” She just wouldn’t quit.

I scooted my chair back to stand and leave. “This was the last time. I will not speak with you ever again.”

She grabbed my wrist and forced me to sit back down. “You'd better tell me who you’re working for. And how much he’s paying you.” She clenched her teeth. “Or else.”

The guard cleared his throat and stepped closer. I registered his presence. He stood right there, in my peripheral vision, glowering down at her.

All right. I’m liking this security thing now. I grinned.

“Get your hand off her. Now ,” he ordered.

Melissa released me and flicked her fingers, as though she was disgusted to have ever touched me at all. “Oh. Is that how it’s gonna be now?”

“Are you finished here, Ms. Durmont?” the guard asked.

I stood, nodding at him. “I am.”

“Hey, asshole,” Melissa sneered as she leaned back in her seat. “I’m a Ms. Durmont too.”

“I don’t care if we were born sisters,” I told her as I retreated. “Don’t ever reach out to me again. Ever.”

With that, I turned and walked away. I heard and felt the presence of the guard behind me.

I bet that if I glanced, I’d see him exactly three steps behind me, watching and supervising.

Unlike the trip out here to see Melissa, on this returning walk, I basked in the comfort of knowing I wasn’t alone.

This guard didn’t care. He wasn’t a friend, just a hired thug expected to keep me safe because it was his job to do so.

I appreciated it. Yet, I wished I had someone who cared with me. Someone who would’ve stood up to my sister on my behalf because they wanted to see me happy and not stressed or harassed. Standing up to her by myself felt good, but it didn’t change how alone I felt.

As soon as I entered the mansion, I felt the opposite. It was impossible to feel like an outsider near Margie, and I was overjoyed to see her in the kitchen. Especially with the smells of her favorite homemade soup brewing.

“What’s that long face for?” she asked.

“Han. Ha!” Emily toddled closer with her arms up, and I grinned as I stooped lower to pick her up.

“Look at you, little princess. You’re getting so big.”

Emily thrust her arms up in a so big gesture.

“No long face,” I told the kindly housekeeper who seemed more like the main maternal presence in the household. “But, uh, I’ve had a long day.”

“Hmm.” She arched one brow at me. “I’m not sure I believe that. You’re not very good at lying.”

Dammit. Dmitri had said the same thing.

“Maybe because I never want to lie.” I took a seat with Emily on my lap. I didn’t want to keep her from her food. After I slid the plate and bowl over, she snacked away.

“But you also don’t want to tell me why you have that long face.”

I nodded. “Exactly. Call me out on being a bad liar,” I said before I took a carrot stick from Emily’s plate, “but please don’t push and prod and make me talk about something—or someone—I don’t want to talk about.”

She nodded. “Okay. As long as you answer me this one thing.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Okay…”

“Is it a man? An ex-boyfriend?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“All right.” She set a bowl of soup and a plate of crackers out for me. “That’s all that matters. Because if it was a man bothering you or something, I’d be duty-bound to tell Dmitri.”

“Dmitri?”

She shrugged. “All of them. Those brothers don’t take those sorts of things lightly.”

“I see.” I ate the soup the best I could with Emily sitting on my lap as she enjoyed her food.

We’d done this before, when she was younger and still getting used to finger foods, and I was happy that she remembered how to balance like this.

I missed this little girl, and I was so happy to at least be near her again.

“Even though you’ve only been here almost a month,” she went on to say, “you belong with us. I can tell.”

I smiled, holding back a laugh. “I’m only here to help Dmitri recover the best he can.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” She arched her brows, smug.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look at you.” She gestured at Emily on my lap. “And I’ve seen you with the twins. Becca adores you. Mila and Amy do as well. Nadia’s still acclimating and all herself, but I heard you two talking the other day in passing.”

I gave in to a giggle. “You don’t miss anything in this huge house, do you?”

“I try not to.” She winked. “Hey, listen.” She slid a tray over. “Dmitri hasn’t eaten yet.”

Oh, crap. I was hoping to avoid him for a little longer. His recovery couldn’t be stalled. But I wanted to give him this day to brood on his own. I didn’t want to be shouted at, not after the way Melissa treated me.

“Could you take his tray to him on your way when you’re done?”

I eyed the silver dome that covered his soup and likely more wonderful food the chef and Margie had whipped up. “Yeah, sure. I’m heading that way.”

Dammit. Once I handed Emily over to Becca, who breezed through the kitchen just as I finished my soup, I grabbed the tray and left.

Maybe I can knock, leave it on the floor at his door, and run. I rolled my eyes at my silliness.

I couldn’t bring myself to do that, though. I hated to think of his having to lower to pick it up and hurt himself.

Then again, he sure handled picking me up to fuck me on his bed yesterday…

I knocked, and he answered. Brooding and pensive, he glared at me. Without a word, he looked me over like I was a pest. “What?”

I lifted the tray higher.

“You quit as my therapist to become a housemaid?”

I rolled my eyes and brushed past him to bring the tray in. “I was never your therapist. I’m a nurse dropout with therapy training.”

And the fuck buddy you discarded.

Steam still hung in the air. He’d just gotten out of the shower, by the looks of it. And by looks, that meant a towel slung low on his tatted body. I’d be damned if I checked him out. So it was with great strain that I deliberately kept my gaze trained on the floor.

“Where were you earlier?”

“Not in here putting up with your shit.”

“Where were you?” he repeated, harsher.

I shrugged, glancing at him. “You told me to get out, remember?”

He grunted, rubbing his jaw. The friction of his short stubble sent moisture whisking into the space between us as he looked off to the side. When he locked his emerald stare on me again, I almost trembled at the command in his eyes.

“Where did you?—”

“Why do you care?” I crossed my arms, jutting my chin up higher.

He didn’t reply, staring me down.

“Because you need to know if Alek will be forced to find you another therapy aide?” I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes. “Were you worried that I was confused about how hot and cold you run, dragging me into bed one second, then yelling at me to leave you alone the next?”

He stepped closer. So close that the steam from his skin, heated from the shower, radiated toward me. My fingers itched to reach out and touch him, but I refrained. I wouldn’t cave. I wouldn’t show him that I still lusted for him.

“Don’t try to tell me you didn’t want it.”

I opened and closed my mouth. I’d be damned if I tried and failed to lie to his face again and get called out on it. Not about this.

“Make up your mind, Dmitri. You want me here. You want me to leave. Which is it?”

He clenched his teeth, making his jaw tense and slide. “Where did you go?”

I wanted to scream. One remained lodged in my throat. He was so damn stubborn. But I could be worse.

“It’s none of your business.” I stood up straighter, refusing to be intimidated any further by his broody nature.

I hated telling him that line, though. I wanted it to be his business. I wanted to be his business. To matter to him. I wished I could share my burdens with him and be completely open and honest. That forever unrequited wish to belong would remain a hole in my chest.

He wasn’t interested in me like that. I was well aware of that fact without his having to belabor it. Despite the lethal intensity of his glower, a sure sign of his frustration that I wasn’t being easy and telling him what he wanted to hear, I did not matter.

I was worthy enough to be fucked once. But not to be valued as a friend.

It stung. Which was why when I turned to leave, again without another word in parting, I fought back the urge to cry.