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A fake retching sound drew our attention down the hallway where Daria was already walking toward us.

“Gross.” She shivered. “I didn’t need to hear that shit. For my sanity, please keep your lewd thoughts about my sister to yourself when I’m around, Gangster.”

Pru laughed, and my heart fluttered in my chest. It was the same each and every time I heard the sound from her, though it’d been so long I’d forgotten the effects. Her laughter was bright and infectious, rich and velvety, like it came from a place deep inside. My new mission in life was to make sure she did it more often. She deserved nothing less.

Moving behind the wheelchair, I raised a brow. “Gangster?”

“Isn’t that what you are?”

“No, he’s not,” Pru defended me.

“Puh-lease.” Daria rolled her eyes. “I’ve been in this town for less than a month and I've heard the rumors about the big, bad Russian Bratva leader.”

“What exactly do the rumors say about me?”

“That you’re ruthless.”

“I am.”

“You have an entire army of men at your disposal.”

“True. When your net worth teeters on the edge of ten figures, bodyguards become a necessity. Is that all?”

“No.” Daria’s eyes shifted, avoiding my gaze.

I knew exactly what she was thinking. Bribery, extortion, money laundering. We were guilty of all of it. Hell, we were guilty of far worse. Those weren’t things my future sister-in-law needed to worry about, though. Not now. Not ever. The ugliest parts of my world may have touched her sister once, but I’d die before ever allowing it to happen again.

“Are my hands clean? No. I won’t apologize for the life I was born into. Nor do I regret it. It helped me build an empire, and it brought your sister into my life.”

“He’s a good man, Daria.”

“You’ve said that before, baby, and my response is still the same. I’m not, but for you, I’ll try.”

I’d spent the better part of the last forty-eight hours at Pru’s apartment. She practically had to kick me out that first night, and it only got worse when I came back the next morning. There were dark circles under her swollen eyes, like she hadn’t slept a wink. Her sister later confirmed what I feared. She was having nightmares. With Daria set to return to her own home that night, my concern grew. We’d have to deal with them eventually. Whether it was me she talked to or a professional, something had to give.

But it was a worry for another day. Right then, the three of us were sitting with the prosthetist while he went over our next steps. Since Pru’s surgical site was completely healed and swelling was minimal, she was ready for a temporary prosthesis. Measurements were taken and before we left his office, a cast was created which would be used to design a socket––the part which fit around her residual limb. From there, we’d have to wait about a week for the actual device to be made.

Pru had grown restless by the time the SUV pulled up to the back entrance of The Four Kings. If it were up to me, we would’ve gone through the front doors, announcing her return with a bullhorn, but my girl had other ideas. Like a true queen, she didn’t want to draw the staff’s focus away from the guests.

My best friends—my brothers—were waiting on the loading dock, each holding a bouquet of flowers in their hands.

Fuckers.

I reached over, taking hold of her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “What if people stare?”

“Ignore them.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I’ll block their view.”

Christ, I’d put up a fucking wall around her if I thought it would help. Except Pru was no damsel, and I was no hero. She didn’t need a champion to do all the heavy lifting. She needed a rock, an immovable force of nature who gave her balance. That was me, she just didn’t believe it yet.