I realize with a pang that nearly takes my breath away, how much I want what Ravil has—the woman he loves and a baby they adore. The whole package. A sweet little nuclear family. Something none of us ever thought we’d have. The women that have come into the lives of my brothers here have brought enough sweetness to counteract some of the stain of the bratva from our souls. I want Natasha’s sweetness. I want the whole package with her.

“When Natasha was new to America, she had a neighbor who was only friends with her when they were at home. At school, she was too Russian to associate with.”

Sasha pulls a horrified face, always the thespian.

“She compared me to that friend.”

Lucy sits the baby on the edge of the breakfast bar, and Sasha instantly reaches for him. “So you need to prove to her that she’s not a friend of convenience,” she sums up.

I turn to her, grateful for her logic. “Yes. But she won’t talk to me.”

“So you’ll have to show her.”

“It should be public,” Sasha weighs in. “Something big.” Of course, Sasha’s flare for the dramatic always comes into play.

But everyone else seems to agree.

“Yes. Public and big,” Maxim repeats.

“A billboard,” Story suggests.

Oleg signs something, and I watch. It’s a little fast for me to pick up. “Something she can see?” I try to interpret.

“Something she can see from her window!” Story fills me in. “Yes! A giant banner hung on the building across the way. How would you go about that?”

I frown. Fuck if I know. If it can’t be accessed with technology, I’m at a total loss.

“I can try to find the building owner,” Maxim offers.

“What about one of those airplanes that flies with the banner behind it?” Sasha suggests.

“Yes,” I agree. It feels right. “All of that.” I spread my hands. It’s not like me to ask for help. I’m usually the one offering it, but I’m way out of my depth here. “Can you help me?”

“Of course.” Lucy smiles. “We can figure this all out.”

Natasha

My mother is home, which means I’m in my bedroom pretending to read a book. I just want to be alone while I lick my wounds.

I didn’t want to tell her about what happened last week. If I had, she would want to move us out of this building by the end of the day. Me getting mixed up in bratva business is her worst nightmare.

But not telling her makes it impossible to function around her. I’m still grieving. It may have only been a week, but the intensity was unmatched. I fell in love and had my heart broken all at once, and it’s not easy to bounce back from that.

An unknown number comes through my phone, and I pick it up. I don’t feel like talking to anyone, but it could be a new client.

“This is Natasha.”

“Hi Natasha, this is George Engels, head of admissions at the Illinois School for Naturopathy.”

I know the school—it was my top pick when I’d been applying last year, but I have no idea why they’d be calling now. “Oh? Um, hi.”

“We understand there was some miscommunication with you about your scholarship offer—that it never came through?”

“Scholarship offer?” I echo blankly.

“Sounds like you didn’t receive it, which would explain why we haven’t received your acceptance yet. Listen, most of that money has already been claimed, but I just had a student back out, and we’d like to give you the chance again, if you’re still interested in attending.”

“Well, I am interested—um—but I’m confused. You say you sent me a scholarship offer?”

“We’re confused too, to be honest. I just got an email from the Dean asking me to look into your case personally, and it looks like someone in our office dropped the ball somewhere. But there is money available, and I’d like to make the offer. Have you already accepted another offer?”

My heart starts pounding. Even though I have a strong suspicion about how this happened, I can’t hold back my excitement. “Um, no, I haven’t.”

“Then we’d like to offer you a full ride. But I’d need to know by the end of the week. I will email you the paperwork right now, so you can look it over.”

“Wow. Thank you so much. Really. This is very exciting.”

“It is, yes. We were so impressed with your entrance essay. It was really moving.”

My entrance essay? Huh. Interesting.

“Um, thank you. I look forward to your email.”

“Great. I’m sending it now. You have a great day, Natasha.”

I end the call and stare at the phone. Then I open my computer, which I haven’t done since I got back. My email box is full, and there are messages not just from the Illinois School of Naturopathy, but from seven others, all with similar stories. My application had been misplaced, but there’s still a place for me. Some offer money, some don’t.

Tags: Renee Rose Chicago Bratva Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net