Wicked Boss (Bratva Brothers 2)

"Am I wrong?"

Hannah can't meet my stare. She knows I'm right. I reach up and rest my thumb under her chin, guiding her gaze toward me. "He bruised you, broke you, and you think I'm the monster?"

"You're a criminal," Hannah says. There's a glint of fear behind her blue eyes. She's afraid of me. What have I done to deserve her fear and disgust?

I won't talk about my crimes, certainly not under her roof. The cameras are still functioning and recording. Anyone could intercept the signal, including the FBI.

While I haven't seen her run to them, I can't be certain they're not watching. Madisyn has ties to the FBI, and while she may have left that life behind, who is to say they've left us behind?

"You fear me for all the wrong reasons," I say.

She exhales a heavy huff, and her brow tightens. Hannah drags her bottom lip between her teeth, a nervous habit I catch her doing far too often. Recently, her frustration had been at Mark, which I could deal with, but Hannah despising me is something entirely new, and I don't like it.

"Really? All the wrong reasons? Tell me Mark is wrong, and you're not bratva."

I won't lie to her. Hannah deserves the truth.

Silence is my admission of guilt. I drop my hand from her jaw. Her heated stare is enough to make my stomach turn. I don’t need to force her to look at me.

"Did you kill Mark too?"

"I didn't have to kill him. He dropped dead in the living room." It's the truth. Maybe I didn't help resuscitate him, but that's not a crime. The man deserved to die, and I was just lucky it happened when it did, before he could hurt Hannah again.

"I don't believe you," Hannah says.

I should take a step back and give her some space, but I don't. At least with her body trapped against the island, I know that she isn't going anywhere. She can't run while I have her within my grasp.

And she doesn't push me away.

"I can prove it to you," I say.

It's a gamble, revealing the surveillance footage. We did come to the apartment to rough up Mark. But the heart attack, that wasn't on us. I didn't kill him.

Her eyes flicker. "How?" She glances me over. Her shoulders are straight and back. Her posture is an attempt to make her look tougher and bolder, not the least bit fragile.

"After you agreed to move in with me, we had the apartment under surveillance. We wanted to make sure that Mark packed his belongings and left."

"There's video footage of my apartment?" Her hands reach my chest, and she pushes me back, scooting away from the counter as she searches for the cameras.

They're impossible to notice. High-tech and top-level equipment that government agencies use across the world. It didn't come cheap, but there is no price too high for my family's safety.

I retrieve my cell phone from my pocket and open the application. I'm honestly not sure showing her the footage is in my best interest. She wasn't aware that I was at her apartment when Mark had a heart attack, but her thinking I'm the reason he died because I murdered him, that idea needs to be nixed.

I skip past the part where I enter and shove a gun against Mark's head and bloody his nose. She doesn't need to witness the violence. I press play and hand her my phone.

She gasps and glances in the direction of one of the cameras back to the phone as the scene unfolds.

I take a tentative step back.

"Mama?" Bay pokes her head out of the bedroom.

"Get back in your room, Bay!" Hannah scolds her daughter, pointing in the direction of the little girl's bedroom.

Bay doesn't budge. She stands in her overalls with pigtails. Her shoes have since been discarded, along with her socks. Bay must have removed those items while in her bedroom.

"It's boring," she says as she stomps toward me with a huge grin. "I want my toys."

Hannah pauses the video as Bay approaches, ensuring that she doesn't witness the same event that Hannah is watching on the screen.

I bend down to Bay's level and tickle her.

"Daddy!" she squeals and wiggles into my arms.

I wrap my arms around the little tiger, hugging her.

Hannah shuts off the screen on my phone, having seen enough. She hands me back my cell phone. I'm not sure the video convinced her that I'm not the bad guy she believes me to be.

"Bay, come here," Hannah says.

"No!" the little one shouts.

Bay wraps her arms around my neck, and I glance at Hannah. "You should listen to your mother." While I don't want to let Bay go, I'm not about to kidnap my child, either.

I untangle Bay from around my neck, and Hannah steps forward, snatching Bay from the floor and picking her up. "I want the cameras removed."

"I'll have the men who installed the cameras remove them," I say.

"And I want everything returned to me in your possession, seeing as there's no reason for Bay and me to reside with you anymore."

I shove my cell phone into my jacket pocket. "Just because Mark is gone, you don't have to leave the compound."

"Compound?" Hannah repeats. "Wow. And here I thought it was just a really nice house that Mikhail owned. That's why you live there full-time, to protect his assets and property."

I ignore her remark. She's angry that I kept what I do a secret, but how could I tell her without risking her safety?

Doesn’t she realize all I've wanted is to keep her safe?

"You should go," Hannah says.

I won't overstay my welcome, not that I was truly invited into her home. "Don't think that I won't fight for custody of my daughter."

Her eyes flinch. "Luka, please." Her voice cracks, and I see the resolve breaking. If I take Bay away from her, she will never forgive me.

"You can't ask me to walk away and not see my child."

Hannah heads to the door, indicating that it's time for me to leave.

"We're not having this conversation," Hannah says.

"Fine, if you won't have it now, we'll get lawyers and the court involved."

"Please, don't," she whispers.