Sinful Bride (Belaya Bratva 3) - Page 51

“Not that you would tell me any differently,” he murmured, his hand sliding down my back. “Tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” I echoed as the weakness started to get better. “I’m just not used to being fucked against the wall.”

Gavril laughed, and it filled my heart with tenderness. I wanted him to laugh more, to smile more, to not have the weight of the world on his shoulders like he did now.

I wanted him to be happy. “And you aren’t going to be able to do it in, say, about six months or more,” I added, keeping it light between us when my heart was tearing in two.

He tangled his hand in my hair and gave me a hard kiss. “I think you just gave me a challenge, Naomi.”

I hoped so.

He let out a breath and stepped back, grasping his pants and hauling them over his cock once more. I located my clothing and pulled it on with a shaky breath, torn between begging him to stay and crying that he had to go.

This could be the last time I saw him. This could be the end of us.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I finally looked at him. “Naomi,” he whispered, his voice tortured. “Don’t cry.”

I dashed at my cheeks, as if I could stop the steady flow of tears from falling. “I’m sorry. I just can’t help it.”

He reached for me and pulled me close, pressing his lips to my temple. “I will be back. Just stay here, and if you hear anything that doesn’t sound right, you shoot that gun all right?”

I breathed in his scent, clinging to him as if I could stop him from leaving. “I will.”

“I have the guards ready to fight,” he added, pulling away from me so that he could look into my eyes. “I have to go.”

I knew he had to. I knew that he had to face Jon and take him down. “Be careful.”

He brushed his lips over mine hesitantly before stepping back, and I watched as Gavril slid into the persona of the Pakhan that he was, carefully schooling his emotions until they were unreadable. I wasn’t afraid of him like this. I was a little proud, to be honest, that this man was my husband. He was my partner. He was my future.

“I love you,” he told me as he moved to the door. “Moye serdtse.”

“I love you,” I said tearfully, wrapping my arms around my midsection as he disappeared from view. The moment I knew he was gone, I sank to the floor and let the tears fall unchecked. I had just sent the love of my life into uncertain danger that he might not come back from.

Fifteen minutes later, Vera found me on the floor where Gavril had left me, the tears long dried up and deep-rooted fear taking hold. “You shouldn’t be down here,” she clucked as she helped me to my feet. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

“Do you really think it is?” I asked her haltingly, hating the bitterness that came crashing through in my words.

She didn’t react to my harshness, instead leading me over to the bed and settling on it with me, patting my hand. It was the most emotion I had seen out of her since I had asked her for a pregnancy test. “He’s going to be fine,” she stated firmly. “Because if you allow your heart to think of anything else, then you have already lost faith in your husband.”

“I can’t lose him,” I told her, feeling the tide of emotion wash over me. “We are just getting started with our lives.” Even after everything he had done to me, I loved him. I loved him fiercely and without any worry that he would hurt me in the future.

After all, when Gavril professed his love, he meant it. He had only said it to two women in his life, and I was the one left standing to protect his heart. How he had ever found the strength to say it after what Katya had done to him, I would never know, but I was happy about it.

“Then you cling to that hope,” she said, rising from the bed. “You eat your meal and take your shower, ready yourself for your husband’s return. You will be victorious. Pakhan Kirilenko will be victorious. After all, he doesn’t know how to fail, and neither do you.”

I sat there on the bed as she walked out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her. She was right, of course. I needed to quit wallowing in my own misery and be ready for when Gavril came back home, and we could celebrate together. He needed me to be strong for him, for us both.

I needed to be there, ready to accept him in whatever state he was in.

So I did exactly what Vera told me to do. I ate the sandwich on the plate and then took a hot shower, pulling out clothing that would be comfortable and packing a bag just in case we had to run. The gun gleamed at me from the table, but I ignored it for now. If he wasn’t back in thirty minutes, I would consider different options, but for now, I had to believe that Gavril was going to come through for our family and rid our future of Jon Hampton, however he was planning on doing so.

My sanity depended on him walking through that door again, because if he didn’t, I didn’t know what I was going to do.

Tags: Brook Wilder Belaya Bratva Romance
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