Bratva Sinner (A Possessive Mafia Romance)

“You don’t know how much trouble you’ve been,” Evgeni said softly, almost as if talking to himself.

“I’m sorry if it’s been hard on you,” I said, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone. “I didn’t exactly ask for any of this.”

“And yet you’ve seen it through.”

I paused, glanced at German. “Luke can be convincing.”

Evgeni laughed. “That’s true. He’s charismatic, that one. There’s a reason I gave him control of a crew and let him do more or less whatever he wants. There aren’t many men in my family with so much latitude.”

I studied Evgeni for a moment when the sound of footsteps on the stairs made me stand almost involuntarily. The doctor came down, wiping his hands on a towel and looking exhausted. He’d been up there for several hours working on Luke, and we had no clue what was going to happen.

“He’s awake,” the doctor said, a slim man with round spectacles and a receding hairline. He wore a white button-down rolled at the elbows and black slacks. “And he’ll live.”

Relief flooded me and I sank back down in the chair. “Oh, thank god.”

“How bad is he, Doctor?” German asked.

The doctor adjusted his glasses. “The wounds are surprisingly clean, actually. The problem was he lost a lot of blood, but I believe I’ve got him stabilized. The wounds are cleaned, stitched, and closed, and now he just needs to recover. I’m going to write a script for antibiotics, just to be on the safe side, and he needs to take it easy for a while, do you understand?”

Evgeni stood and held up a hand. “You have my gratitude, Doctor.”

The doctor nodded. “I appreciate that, Pakhan.”

“Come, I will walk you to your car. Things are chaotic out there, for the moment.”

“Thank you.” The doctor walked toward the door then looked back at me. “Keep him comfortable. I’ll return tomorrow to remove the IV line.”

“I will, Doctor.”

He rubbed his hair and shook his head, but stepped outside with Evgeni and two of Evgeni’s bodyguards on his heels. They shut the door and disappeared.

I went straight for the stairs. German’s hand shot out and grabbed my arm. The intensity of his gaze made me bite back the angry comment I was about to make, and I glared back up at him instead.

“Rest,” German said. “Don’t let him be stupid.”

“I won’t. Now please let me go.”

He held me a moment longer then released. I hurried past him, up the stairs, and into Luke’s room.

He lay on the side of the bed with several pillows propping him up. An IV stand with a bag of what looked like blood and another clear bag of fluid was connected to a line sunk into his arm. He smiled at me, his eyes dark and bloodshot, his skin sallow and weak. I shut the door softly, walked to him, and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.

“Lean a little closer,” he said.

I chewed on my lip and obeyed. “God, Luke, I thought—”

“First, I’m going to make you get down on all fours. I’m going to make you crawl to me, nice and slow, while I stroke my hard cock. Then, while you’re kneeling in front of me—”

“Oh my god, stop it,” I said, glaring at him. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“You made a promise.” His grin was weak. “As I was saying, I’ll make you explain exactly how you’ll suck my—”

“Luke!”

He laughed then grimaced in pain. “Okay, fuck, maybe a little too soon for that.”

“The doctor made me promise to keep you in bed. Nothing strenuous.”

His eyes were hard then and shone out at me like beacons. “The Lionettis killed Yuri.”

“I know.” I looked away. I could still see Yuri dying on the street, his brains splattered out behind him. “I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t stay in this fucking bed. I need to get out there—”

“No,” I said firmly. “You get up and you die. You’re not good to Yuri dead.”

He clenched his jaw. He clearly wanted to argue, but we both knew he was in no condition to do anything but lie there and breathe.

“I hate this, you know,” he said softly. “Stuck in this damn bed.”

“I know you do.” I put my hand gently on top of his. He took it and squeezed. “German’s downstairs, and Evgeni—”

“The Pakhan was here?” His eyes were wide with surprise.

“He walked the doctor out, but I’m sure he’ll be back.”

“Well, shit. I didn’t realize I was that important.”

“I have a feeling you’re more important than you realize.” I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “What you said to me, downstairs, before you passed out—”

He squeezed my hand, staring at me. “You want to hear it again now that I’m not about to die?”

I couldn’t look at him. The memory of those words swirled around in my mind and maybe I shouldn’t bring this up, maybe it wasn’t fair when he was wounded and vulnerable, but I had to know—