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CHAPTER23
RUSLAN
“You cannot be serious?”
I snort, though I do not find even an ounce of this funny. Ironic, but not funny in the slightest. “Where are you?” he growls.
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder behind me to see that Isabel is standing at the end of the hallway, her shoulder leaning against the wall, her eyes on me. She’s wearing my shirt, looking sexy as fuck while I stand here completely naked talking on the phone.
“Home. I’m at home,” I answer.
“Stay there. Vadim and I will be by. I want to hear what the fuck he has to say about this. Jesus fucking Christ, I was not prepared for this.”
The call ends and I smirk. Who is ready for what’s just happened? The killing of a Mafia leader’s fucking wife? Fucking fuck. This is bad, really bad. Even if Rostam isn’t quite an ally, he isn’t an enemy, but he may be one now.
That’s the last thing that this Bratva needs as Osip tries to get it running smoothly—enemies. It was bad enough that Rostam’s father was an unknown enemy, this shit could just go really horrible, really quickly.
“What’s happening?” Isabel asks.
Turning around to face her, I try to wipe the look of worry off of my face. My lips lift slightly as I look at her for a moment. “Osip and Vadim are coming over. They had no clue,” I say.
A look of what I can only describe as guilt crosses her face. “I should have demanded to talk to you as soon as you walked through the door. I had no way to call you, I didn’t have your phone number.”
“We’ll fix that later today. A cell should have been my fucking priority. I’m used to people just having them. I haven’t been thinking clearly.”
It’s her turn for her lips to curve up into a smile. “We should probably make this legal too.”
“We will,” I promise. “But right now, I need to put some pants on before myPakhanknocks on the door.”
“Pants would be good,” she murmurs.
“And you need sleep, Isa. I don’t know how long this meeting will last, but you cannot be a part of it.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, just beneath her tits as she pushes them up slightly. “Without me, you wouldn’t have known who she was until it was likely too late,” Isabel points out.
I dip my chin in a nod and take a step toward her, then another until I’m standing directly in front of her. Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek and slide my thumb across her bottom lip, my eyes following the move.
“I know,luchik. But I also know that you understand the rules of the Bratva as well, yes?”
She lets out a sigh. “Can you tell me everything afterward then?” she asks softly.
I hum, not giving her any kind of verbal answer. Instead, I just stare at her pretty mouth. She parts her lips slightly, no doubt ready to say something. She wants to be part of this, and I know that she probably should, but I can’t let that happen.
Our world is misogynistic. There is no sense in trying to deny it or hide it. That is just what we are. There have been subtle changes over the years toward the modern world, but it will probably never get there.
“Bed,luchik.”
She lets out a heavy sigh, then turns around in my arms and starts to walk away. Reaching out to her, I wrap my arms around her. One around her chest, the other around her waist as I pull her back against my torso. Burying my face into the side of her neck, I inhale a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
“I will tell you what I can, as always.”
It’s the only promise that I can make her. It’s probably a shitty one, but it’s all that I have. She doesn’t say anything, I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing, but it doesn’t really matter. It just fucking is what it is, and she knows that better than anyone.
Releasing her, together we walk into the bedroom. Isabel slides into bed and I put some pants on. Turning to her, I look at her for a moment.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you through the months, but your tattoos are sexy.”
“They aren’t,” I state.
