Broken Bride (Belaya Bratva 2)

CHAPTER 21

Gavril

I sat in the lounger on the terrace, Naomi settled between my thighs as we soaked up the late afternoon sun. After her nap, Vera had provided us lunch in Naomi’s bedroom. The housekeeper had arched a brow as she saw me in my joggers in the middle of the day, but wisely said nothing.

It was odd for me not to be working. But after what the day had brought, I had two reasons for being here. First was to make sure that Naomi was safe. After that fucker had gotten on my property and scared the shit out of her, I was begging for him to show up again so I could handle him personally. If that meant staying home today with her, then I would.

It wasn’t just protecting her though. I was enjoying myself. That was the second reason for me being here. She made me feel like a human, like I could be someone different and still keep my pakhan world separate.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I sighed. I pulled it out and looked at the number. It was the fourth time that Anatoly had tried to reach me. Something needed my attention, and it couldn’t wait.

So much for a fucking break.

“I got to take this,” I told her, giving her a gentle squeeze with my arm that had found itself around her waist.

“Nooo,” she replied as I eased my arm from her.

Rising from the lounger, I leaned down and brushed my lips over her temple. “I won’t be long. I swear it.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, adjusting her sunglasses and taking up residence in the place I had just vacated. “But don’t expect me to give you back your seat.”

I smirked as I placed my hand on her chin and guided her gaze to mine. “I thought my lap was your seat.”

Her cheeks flushed prettily, and I debated throwing the phone back in my pocket and teasing out that pink on her cheeks just a little bit further. “I’ll be right back.”

Naomi gave me a true smile and I walked away, dialing Anatoly’s number as I did so. “What?” I barked into the phone the moment he picked up.

He chuckled through the phone. “Apologizing to the wife, pakhan?”

“What I am doing,” I started out. “Is none of your fucking business.”

“Touchy,” he replied with a laugh. “I hate to break up the little love nest you are building there, but Konstantin wants to talk to you. I’ve held him off, but this bastard is persistent.”

Fuck. I could ignore him, but considering that the brigadier was already on shaky ground in accepting me as his new leader, it would only add fuel to the fire, a fire that I didn’t need to grow. “I’ll call him then.”

“I don’t think a phone call is going to be sufficient,” Anatoly said dryly. “But you are the boss.”

I glanced back at Naomi, my ire rasing to another level. He was right. I needed to show I cared about the fucker, that his concerns, his needs were just as important as any other brigadier that was under me.

But I wanted him nowhere near my fucking house or my wife. “Tell him I will meet him in an hour then,” I finally stated. “At the Millennium.”

The Millennium was actually a hotel, and a very expensive one at that, but they had a cognac room that I liked to frequent occasionally.

Besides, I didn’t want to project our association out to the public just yet. I wanted it to be a flashy affair so that everyone fucking knew that I had officially taken over the Krasnaya Bratva and become one of the most powerful men in LA. Sure, the wedding had been a statement, but I wanted a bigger one.

“I will meet you there,” Anatoly said before clicking off the call. I palmed my cell and rolled my shoulders, knowing I was going to have to tell Naomi that I was leaving. This couldn’t be ignored.

So, I walked over to her, extending my hand. “I have to go out for a little while.”

Naomi slid her glasses off her face, glaring at me. “I thought you weren’t going to leave today?”

“This can’t be ignored,” I repeated to her, my gut knotting at the thought of leaving her in the mansion even for a minute. “I’ve doubled the guards at the gate and on the grounds. If he shows up again, they have been instructed to hold him until I can get here.”

Something akin to fear crossed Naomi’s face, and I felt like an asshole for leaving when I had promised not to. “No one will touch you,” I added. “I swear it.”

Naomi drew in a breath and gave me a nod, accepting my outstretched hand in order to pull her out of the lounger. “All right. I can handle myself.”

It wasn’t about her handling herself. It was more like her being terrified whenever the asshole was near and me not being there to comfort her. That was what I didn’t like.

Pulling her to her feet, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her briefly. “Why don’t you go upstairs and I will bring dinner home?”

She smoothed the front of my T-shirt, not meeting my eyes. “That sounds nice.”

I kissed her forehead quickly and untangled myself from her, striding away before I could change my mind. She would be okay now. She wasn’t going to be in any danger in our home again.

***

An hour later, I strolled through the double doors of the cognac room, Anatoly at my side.

“Mr. Kirilenko,” the hotel manager said, breathing heavily as he struggled to catch up with our long strides. “Welcome to the hotel. Can I get you a suite for the evening?”

“That won’t be necessary,” I answered, straightening my jacket as my eyes scanned for Konstantin in the dim lighting. “But I would like two of my preferred meals from Mastro’s ready when I depart.”

The little man’s mouth flopped open, but he quickly recovered. “From Mastro’s? But we can—”

I looked over at him, my expression bored. “Will that be a problem?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat. “Of course not, Mr. Kirilenko! I will see to your request right away.”

I strode away before he could kiss my ass any longer, ignoring Anatoly’s snort of laughter as we did so. He knew my request was a bit outrageous, and I could easily send anyone to go get the food.

Finally spying the brigadier in the corner chair, I strode to him, Anatoly hanging back to ward off anyone else that might decide to interrupt.

“Pakhan,” Konstantin replied, dipping his head in acknowledgment as I sat in the chair next to him. “You picked a fine establishment for a meeting.”

A glass of cognac was waiting for me and I picked it up, swirling the amber liquid. “I didn’t take you for a cognac man.”

He laughed, his own brandy snifter in his hand. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to my liquors. And vodka is…Well, it’s just so primitive.”

“You asked to see me?” I said, getting to the point of all this pleasantry.