Even though I took one hell of a blow to my back, and I know I’ve broken a couple of ribs, I ignore the pain and focus on my little deer.
I didn’t lie when I said I suffered worse. I’ve been tortured, shot, and beaten to within an inch of my life, and that’s only taking into account my initiation into the bratva. The initiation is brutal to prepare you for a life as an enforcer, so you won’t break under pressure if caught by the enemy.
Tonight is a walk in the park in comparison to the life I chose to live.
I did it for my sister. I have no idea what happened to our parents, but we grew up in an orphanage until the Aslanhovs saved us from that hell. That’s how I met Alek. His parents took my sister and me in and gave us a home. They became family to us.
Mr. Aslanhov, Alek’s father, is high up in the bratva, controlling part of Moscow for Viktor Vetrov.
I joined the bratva because I wanted to protect Tiana, my sister, the way Mr. Aslanhov protects his family.
At the end of the day, everything I do is for Tiana.
I keep the worry from showing on my face and press another kiss to my little deer’s temple.
Wanting to distract her from her panic and fear, and also to keep her awake, I say, “I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.”
She lets out a weak chuckle. “Sounds… like a deal.”
Brushing a hand over her hair, I fight the urge to squash her against me.
Christ, I wish I could claw my way out of this concrete grave and carry her to safety.
“I like vegetables,” I admit.
“Hah,” she almost laughs, but the pain stops her. “You’re the first man I know who likes vegetables.”
“Growing up in an orphanage, you learn to be grateful for any food you can get into your empty stomach,” I tell her another secret.
She tilts her head back to look into my eyes, and I feel the invisible sparks between us. Her eyebrows draw together, and her eyes fill with compassion. “That’s awful. I’m sorry you grew up like that.”
I shake my head and try to brush the dust off her face. “Your turn.”
She thinks for a moment, then with her eyes locked on mine, she admits, “You would’ve been my first kiss.” Scrunching her nose, she corrects herself, “Well, we did kiss. Kind of.”
Shock shudders through me, and a frown forms on my forehead. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Because I wanted it to be you.”
Satisfaction fills my chest, and the corner of my mouth lifts. “Why? You don’t know me.”
She shrugs and flinches from the pain the movement causes. “You have gorgeous eyes, and blue is my favorite color.”
“Gorgeous,” I say, thinking that’s the last word I’d associate with myself.
“Yeah. I can stare into your eyes for hours.”
Silence follows her words, making the attraction I felt before the explosion return full force.
“Do you still want the kiss?” I ask, my tone deep and low.
Her features tighten, and I can swear I see a flash of sadness in her eyes, then she whispers, “Please. If I’m going to die, I at least want one decent kiss.”
I shake my head, my voice filled with determination as I say, “You won’t die. Not like this.”
Tears make her eyes shine, and I stare at her until the attraction buzzes between us like a live wire.
Tiana is the only woman I’m gentle with. I treat my sister like the treasure she is.