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“Yeah, Roman’s never going to pick up on this,” Vitaly whispers, eyeing the way Alina and I are looking at one another. “Super subtle.”
Danil breaks the silence by setting a bottle of vodka on the coffee table in front of us and several glasses. “Now we can really celebrate your birthday, Alina.”
“Yeah, I’m not going to feel bad about kicking your ass on yourbirthday,” Vitaly says. “You’re an adult now, so that means no more going easy on you.”
Alina laughs and walks over. Grabbing the remote Lev offers her, she sits on the floor in front of me and leans her back against my leg. It’s not quite as close as she’d usually come, but it’s also not so unusual that it’ll draw Roman’s attention. I need to talk to him soon about his sister, but I don’t want to get into it tonight. Right now, I want to watch my girl kick everyone’s ass, and that’s exactly what she does.
By the time we all fall asleep, we’re more than a little drunk, all of us sprawled out around the living room. Pizza boxes litter the coffee table with a few bottles of vodka and the nearly devoured cake. Alina crawls onto the loveseat where I’m laying on my side and snuggles up against me, pulling the blanket over the two of us. Draping my arm over her, I pull her closer and bury my nose in her hair.
“Happy birthday, Alina,” I whisper, kissing her neck as my eyes close.
“Night, Matvey,” she whispers back, and falling asleep with her in my arms feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Three Months Later
Putting my gun away, I quickly pull off my hoodie and jeans and start the shower. Dried blood still covers my hands, and it’s splattered all over my face and clothes. Fucking hell, that better wash out. I toe the blue hoodie, wishing I’d chosen something different to wear tonight. In all fairness, I hadn’t known I was going to be killing anyone; otherwise, I would’ve worn myI don’t mind if these get splattered in bloodclothes.
It couldn’t be helped, though. After Anatoly and Grisha had turned up dead, the Safronov Bratva’s been on high alert. I got the order to take out a couple of suspicious-looking men who’d been hanging out in one of our clubs, and it wasn’t an order I could say no to, at least not yet.Once we take over, I won’t be taking orders ever again, but even though we’re close, we haven’t taken over yet.
The hot water runs over me, washing me clean and leaving only the scarred, tattooed skin behind. Sometimes it’s hard to even remember a time when my back and arms and hands weren’t covered in rough scars. Hell, I can’t even remember what my voice sounded like before the smoke inhalation left me with the raspy one I have now.
It’s for the best, I tell myself, turning off the water and running the towel through my hair before dragging it over my body and wrapping it around my waist. It’s best not to remember what life was like before the fire, and it’s definitely best not to remember the little sister who laughed at my jokes and loved to watch cartoons while she ate her breakfast. I can’t remember her voice either, but I do vividly remember the sounds of her screams as she burnt to death.
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I leave my bathroom and step into my bedroom, not at all surprised to find Alina lying on my bed, reading her book. She tries to pretend she’s still reading, but her eyes keep darting over to my bare upper body. If she was anyone else, I’d be pissed off and reaching for a shirt to cover my scars, but this is Alina, and the only irritating thing about this is that I can’t drop my towel and bury myself inside her, at least not yet. She’d be more than okay with it, but I want to take things slow. She’s still so damn young, and I don’t want to rush her.
When her eyes run over my chest again, I lift a brow and ask, “Good book?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She manages to keep her eyes on the book for almost a full minute before they dart right back to my chest. She finally meets my eyes when she hears me laugh.
Giving up the pretense, she sets the book aside. “It’s not funny.”
I smile at her. “It kind of is.”
She smiles back and pats the bed. “Come lay down.”
I grab my boxer briefs, ignoring the disappointed look she gives me and slip them on under my towel before grabbing a long-sleeve tee.
“Well, that’s no fun,” she mutters, making me laugh as I turn off the overhead light and crawl into bed next to her. Every night that she stays at the penthouse, she sneaks into my bedroom. It’s gotten to the point where I’m not so sure I can fall asleep if her small body isn’t tucked up against mine.
As soon as I’m lying down, she finds me in the dark. Her hands clasp behind my neck, pulling me closer. Smiling, I roll over. With my hand on her hip, I scoot her under me so my body cocoons hers, just like she likes it. I’ve memorized everything about her, the things that make her gasp and whimper, the soft caresses that make her shiver and kiss me harder, and the touches that make her wrap her legs around me and rock her hips like she’ll never be able to get enough.
Her hands slide under my shirt, and my first instinct is to tense up when I feel her fingers run along my scarred back, but she whispers my name and kisses me so damn gently, making me immediately relax into her touch.
“Your scars don’t bother me,” she whispers in between kisses. “They never have. They’re a part of you, and I love every damn part of you, Matvey.” Her fingers lightly trail along my spine. “These remind me that you’re alive. I could’ve lost you so easily that night.”
The tremor in her voice has me cupping her face. “But you didn’t. I’m here, Alina, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to have a lifetime together.”
The heat of her breath hits my lips, and when she starts to pull my shirt off, I let her. I don’t even stop her when she quickly yanks her own off, tossing it aside and making me let out a groan at the feel of her bare chest against mine. It’s the sweetest kind of torture, and I honestly don’t know how much longer I can hold out. She’s getting harder and harder to resist.
“Matvey.”
That one word holds so much in it. It’s a plea for more, a declaration of love, and a promise of a future that I can’t wait to live.
“Malishka.” I murmur the word against her skin, knowing howmuch she loves it when I call her baby girl. “You constantly threaten to destroy what little willpower I have.”
“Then stop fighting me.”
