Sinful Bride (Belaya Bratva 3)

Chapter 8

Naomi

I couldn’t believe that I was in Gavril’s arms, and he was being completely different.

I wasn’t used to this Gavril. It was almost like everything that had happened over the past few hours had scared him somehow. Although I didn’t want to read too much into it, I couldn’t help it.

It also made me want to cry, but I held those tears back. Now wasn’t the time to lose it.

“Jon took me to his studio in the city after he…” I paused. What if Gavril didn’t know about Anatoly yet?

Oh God.

“I know,” he said, relieving my fears that I was about to tell him that his closest friend was dead. If I closed my eyes, I could still see Anatoly telling me to run as the bullet ripped through his chest, how he had tried to save my life even when he knew that he was going to die in the end. I wouldn’t get over that for a long, long time.

I looked up, catching his eye. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, wanting to comfort him. He had to be hurting, no matter how tough Gavril was. Losing someone he cared about wasn’t easy, and I knew that it wasn’t the first time he had gone through something like this. “I know you two were close.”

Emotions like I had never seen before crossed his expression before he shuttered it, and I knew the conversation was over for now. “Tell me what happened.”

I rested my cheek back against the vest he wore, my arms wrapped around his waist for comfort so that I could get through the rest of my story. “We made it to the studio, and I talked Jon into letting me out of the zip ties by, um, saying I wanted to thank him properly for saving me.” The memory still haunted me even now, but it had worked, and that was all that mattered.

“Go on,” Gavril said gruffly, his arms tightening around me as if he was preparing for the worst.

“I grabbed his balls,” I forced out, squeezing my eyes shut. “And slammed the palm of my hand into his nose.”

Gavril let out a breath. “Is that all?”

I nodded, unable to look up at him. I was ashamed that I had done so, even if it had saved my life and let me get away from him.

Gavril pulled back and brought his hands up to frame my face, his touch tender as he gazed at me. “Did you kill him?” he asked softly, his eyes searching mine.

“No,” I answered truthfully. “I didn’t hit him that hard.” I wanted to do so much more, but at the time, my mind was screaming for me to get out.

“I’m proud of you,” he finally said, his lips lifting in a small smile. “God, Naomi, I’m so fucking proud of what you did. Not everyone would have had the guts to get away, and if you hadn’t…” He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. He was thinking the same way I was. There were no limits to what Jon could have done to me.

And to have Gavril so proud of me? I couldn’t even explain what that felt like. This was the leader of a Bratva, one of the fiercest, most badass men in LA, and he was proud of me?

“Not only that,” Gavril continued as he pressed his forehead to mine. “You did exactly what I trained you to do. That is all I could ask for.”

I sucked in a breath to keep from crying, not believing that the words were coming out of his mouth like this. “I wanted to kill him.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he answered, his voice taking on a hard edge. “I wouldn’t want that sort of blood on your hands. Hampton will get what is coming to him. I will promise you that.”

I knew that Gavril would protect me. After all, he had tried to send me away to do just that.

“Why did you hang up?” he asked a moment later, lifting his head. “You scared the fuck out of me.”

I ducked my head, feeling sheepish for what I had done and the ramifications of what could happen. “I used the wrong phone.”

Gavril looked over my head. “Ah, fuck.”

“Yeah,” I answered, thinking back to how pissed off Roman had been. “I don’t think Roman appreciated the fact that I sent up the red flags.”

Gavril chuckled. “Trust me, it’s the least he has to worry about.”

“He seemed really worried though,” I told him, stepping out of his embrace. “What if I tipped Jon off to this location?”

I couldn’t even think about putting Ilsa in danger. Sure, my friend could handle herself, but just the mere thought made my stomach turn. Ilsa had so much going for her, and if she lost Roman now, she would be a lot like I would be if I lost Gavril.