Wicked Boss (Bratva Brothers 2)

Within the hour, the doorbell chimes, and I answer it since I'm nearest to the door. Madisyn is hurrying down the stairs when I pull open the door.

Sure enough, Hannah brought her daughter along. The kid could be a mini version of Hannah, with the same hair and matching baby blue eyes.

"Mama, I'm cold," the little girl announces rather loudly as they stand at the front door.

"Come in," I say, forgetting my manners. I'm not used to guests showing up at the compound. We rarely have visitors who aren't members of the bratva.

Hannah helps the little girl out of her purple coat, and I offer to take it, hanging it in the nearby hall closet. She unlaces the toddler's boots while the child drops her hat and gloves on the floor.

I bend down to retrieve the items just as Hannah bends down, knocking into one another.

"Sorry," she says, quick to apologize as she reaches for the abandoned clothes, stuffing the items into her jacket pocket.

"It was my doing," I say. I'm not used to apologizing. It's not something that we do as bratva, showing any weakness.

Hannah unbuttons her coat and removes her shoes, leaving them by the front door. She follows me to the closet to hang her jacket. "I wasn't sure you were coming to dinner," Hannah says. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth.

Is she nervous? I can't fathom why she would be.

"Mama!" the little tyke tugs on her mother's hand, attempting to drag her to follow. The kid isn't shy or nervous around strangers, let alone in new places.

"Bay, come here." Hannah bends down and sweeps the little tiger into her arms, not letting her roam free.

"She looks just like you," I say. The resemblance is uncanny.

Bay squirms in her mother's grasp, clearly wanting to be put down.

Madisyn strolls up from behind me. "Really? I'd say she looks remarkably like her father."

Hannah's eyes widen, and she glares at Madisyn. I'm not sure what's going on, but I let it slide. There's no logical reason that I don't like the guy from yesterday at Hannah's apartment.

Blame it on jealousy, but I don't want to talk about him with Hannah or Madisyn, for that matter.

I'd just assume that he doesn't exist.

Can't a guy pretend?

"You look like hell. What happened?" Madisyn asks, directing her question at Hannah.

"I don't want to talk about it," she says.

"Mean Mark," Bay proclaims, not the least bit privy that Hannah doesn't want to discuss the matter.

My hands bunch into fists at my side. There's a distant look in Hannah's eyes that I should have seen earlier. Her eyes are puffy and red. "How was he mean?" I growl. I'll kill him if he laid a finger on Hannah or Bay.

"Can I give you a bear hug?" Madisyn asks, holding out her arms to Bay.

The little girl's face brightens, and she nods vigorously as she squirms and wiggles to break free from her mother. Hannah relinquishes Bay into Madisyn's arms.

Madisyn steals Bay away, taking her down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Hannah rolls her lips together, her brow furrowing like she's trying not to cry. "We got into a fight."

I can't help but worry and wonder if he hurt Hannah. She's wearing a turtleneck, making it nearly impossible to see any skin.

I don't want to jump to conclusions, but she's still visibly shaken from whatever transpired.

I let her talk. The best thing that I can do right now is listen to her.

Hannah glances away, avoiding my heated stare. "It's stupid." She's quick to dismiss the argument, or at the very least, the discussion regarding whatever heated fight transpired earlier.

I want her to confide in me, if only so that she's happier and feels better. "Nothing you say is stupid." I step closer and bring my hand up to her chin.

She freezes. Her body tenses at the gesture. "Was he physical with you?" Anger surfaces at the thought that he did something to hurt her. The room is warm, and my adrenaline spikes. "Was he violent?"

I fear the answer that she'll give me. She has no visible scars, but the deeper cuts beneath the surface have me just as worried, and not only for Hannah, but for Bay.

She opens her mouth, and her voice is hardly above a whisper. Like she's afraid to say the words aloud. "He wouldn't let me leave."

"Intimidation." I pull her closer, my hands on her arms, examining her face and what I can see of her neck, looking for signs of physical abuse.

"No, it's more than that." Hannah grimaces.

Does she regret telling me the truth?

"How about we find someplace a little more comfortable and private to talk," I suggest as I walk with her down the hallway in the direction that Madisyn took Bay. I lead her into the study. It's empty, and I flip on the light as I step into the room.

Hannah follows close behind.

Laughter emanates from the dining room. Madisyn seems to be doing a decent job of entertaining the tiny tiger, which must put Hannah's mind at ease.

Her shoulders relax as she steps farther into the study and grabs a seat on the sofa.

I don't sit. I'm too restless and full of pent-up energy to unwind on the couch.

"Mark and I got into a pretty heated fight last night," Hannah says. Her hands are clasped in front of her. She gnaws on her bottom lip.

I stop pacing and stand a few feet away, pinning her with my stare. "And?" She's leaving something out of her story.

"It was about you," she says.

I take a step backward, surprised by her remark. "Let me guess, he's jealous and concerned because I drove you home?" I'm taking a stab at what the problem might be.

Does he think that she's cheating on him? Is that why they were fighting?

Sitting up, she gestures for me to come and join her on the couch.

I oblige and sit beside her, waiting for her to elaborate on what happened.

"It's about Bay," Hannah says.

"Bay? What does your daughter have to do with any of this? Was he upset that you didn't come home after work?" I'm trying to unravel what happened last night, and she's not exactly giving me the whole story.

Why is that?

What is she hiding?