Page 22 of Bratva King

Alexei held his brother's gaze. "Then I'll find out."

A long silence followed. Eventually Dimitri sighed. "I can see this conversation is over."

"It is,” Alexei agreed.

"If she betrays you, you only have yourself to blame.”

“I told you. I’ll handle it,” Alexei said.

His brother finally let him be. Alexei remained standing alone. Something tugged at his instincts, a sensation he couldn't explain. He returned to Natalia’s bedroom and was relieved the door stood exactly where he'd left it.

It was closed, and everything appeared normal. Still, he opened the door and found the bed empty. For one impossible second, his mind refused to process what he was seeing.

The blankets lay thrown aside, and the pillow still bore the impression of her head. The window stood open. A cool breeze fluttered the curtains. Alexei crossed the room in three long strides.

There. Halfway through the window, Natalia balanced precariously on the stone ledge outside. One hand clutched the frame while the other protected her injured shoulder.

Her movements were painfully slow and unsteady, he noted. She had managed to get one leg over the ledge, while the second still remained inside. She looked ready to collapse.

Alexei stared at her in utter disbelief. "Natalia!”

She froze and very slowly looked back over her shoulder. Their eyes met. She had the guilty expression of a child caught stealing pastries from the kitchen. For one absurd heartbeat, Alexei nearly laughed, but he held himself back.

"What," he asked with dangerous calm, "do you think you're doing?"

Chapter Seven

Alexei's words froze Natalia in place. She had hoped that by now she would already be outside, crossing the grounds toward the nearest exit before anyone noticed she was gone.

Then again, if she had been thinking clearly, she would have remembered she was nowhere near one hundred percent. Her body still ached from her injuries, every movement draining what little strength she'd managed to regain.

Ever since she’d decided to involve herself with Alexei, her entire life had spun hopelessly out of order.

When he had sat beside her bed, speaking to her in that quiet, gentle voice so completely at odds with the feared Pakhan everyone knew, she had felt something she'd almost forgotten existed. Comfort.

What had she been thinking?

That after ten years, they would somehow have the happy reunion she'd secretly imagined as a girl? That he would smile, she'd smile, and the decade separating them would simply disappear? She should have known better. Those were the naive thoughts of a foolish girl.

“Natalia." Her name rolled from his tongue like a warning. He wasn't shouting, and somehow that made it worse.

She slowly turned to face him. He looked furious. She shouldn’t be surprised by that. Alexei had clenched his jaw tightly. A muscle ticked near his temple, and his eyes were dark with restrained anger.

Yet beneath all of that, there was that emotion again. Real concern. A wave of relief filled Natalia. She hadn’t imagined it after all

"I was hoping," she admitted quietly, "that by the time you returned, I'd already be long gone."

"With your body in that condition?” Alexei gave an incredulous shake of his head. "Come back here before you fall."

So like him to be bossy. Natalia remained where she was. The cold stone pressed lightly against her hip as she glanced over the edge. It was farther down than she'd first realized.

Normally, the drop wouldn't have worried her. She'd climbed buildings twice this height and escaped worse situations. However, today, Natalia doubted she'd survive the landing with what strength she had left.

Natalia kept debating what to do next. Being so indecisive was unlike her. Then again, she never expected to find herself in this situation. Alexei exhaled slowly before rubbing a hand across his jaw.

Alexei drew his brows together in frustration. God, when had he become so unfairly handsome? The awkward teenager she remembered had disappeared somewhere during the past decade. In his place stood a man carved from confidence and command.

His dark hair was slightly disheveled, as though he'd rushed to find her. A few strands had fallen across his forehead, softening features that were otherwise all sharp angles and dangerous intensity. His black dress shirt hugged broad shoulders and a powerful chest, the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms.