Page 45 of Bratva Menace

“Holy fucking shit balls,” Autumn whispered under her breath. “You guys are like, rich rich. I guess that twenty-million-dollar bounty he put on you was just chump change for him, huh?” Her eyes were glued to the obscenely large, oversized McMansion sitting on the hill a short distance away.

Over 30,000 square feet, luxurious, with more bedrooms and bathrooms than one person needed…It was the epitome of wealth.

Seriously.

I counted them once. There were sixteen bathrooms.

Sixteen.

Who the fuck needed sixteen goddamn bathrooms? What, did he wake up every morning and go, Hmm, what bathroom am I going to shit in this morning? Oh, I know, bathroom number nine. I haven’t been in there in a while.

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Grand floor-to-ceiling mahogany double doors opened as we made our way around the large water fountain.

Yes. You read that right. Water fountain. And it was three times the size of our car. It was so big it was used as a roundabout for vehicles to enter and exit easily.

Grandfather stood on the front porch, two linebacker bodyguards at his back. I hated the dude with the passion of a thousand fiery suns…but if I could look half as good as him when I was in my late seventies, I’d be cheering.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and stoic, he was remarkably fit for someone creeping up to eighty. With his full head of silver hair and scars that littered his skin, Sergei looked like he’d lived a long, tough-as-fuck life. That nothing could take him down.

Which was exactly what he wanted people to see.

“Who’s that?” Autumn asked.

A man stepped out onto the porch. Average height. Average build. Average face.

Mr. Average.

He stopped and stood next to Grandfather. His clothes screamed money, right down to the fancy Ferragamo Oxfords on his feet.

Father frowned, looking at him. “I don’t know.” He handed Pedro a wad of bills, thanking him. “We’ll collect our luggage.”

With shaky hands, he took the money, nodding.

Deciding to take the reins, I stepped out of the car first in a big, over-the-top flourish.

“The king has arrived!” I announced, arms out wide. I jogged up the porch steps and encircled my grandfather in a great, big bear hug, despite the absolutely revolting feeling doing so left in my stomach. “Grandpappy! How the hell are ya?” I pulled back and gave him a friendly but very fake smile as I squeezed his shoulder. “You’re looking gooooood. You been workin’ out?”

“Lukyan,” Father called out.

I glanced over my shoulder to see the car was gone, Father and Autumn standing at the base of the stairs with our luggage next to them. If it weren’t for our talk on the plane, I would have actually believed he had the shits.

He and Autumn moved up at the same time I stepped back again, and we ended up side by side in front of Grandfather and Mr. Average.

I finally got a proper look at Sergei, and oh, boy, he was not happy about that display. The rage simmering in his blue eyes was enough to set the whole house ablaze.

Heh. Heh.

“I trust you all had a pleasant flight,” Grandfather said in perfect English.

Father hid his surprise well. Sergei barely spoke English. That was the first time I’d ever heard him do it in his own house before.

Like, ever.

I had no such reservations to hide my surprise. I pretended to clean out my ear, making a squeak, squeak sound. “Did you just speak English? In your own home?”

His eyes narrowed in irritation.