Ruby Menace (Vyronov Bratva #2)

Chapter One

Tiana

I can’t find air.

It’s not my imagination. When I try to suck in a breath, it feels as if my lungs won’t fill.

“I’m Kirill’s wife.” The woman slants me a look as she walks into the room with brisk steps, her heels clicking on the marble floor. My first thought is that I need to get my ears checked. Did she say “wife?” Because I’m pretty sure it’s what I heard. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

It means the man you fell for is married, stupid.

That’s what.

Right. He has a wife. So, all that talk about wanting me to be his wife was nothing but bullshit. Kirill is a married man. They are family. What does that make me?

His property, you idiot!

He bought you, remember?

What the fuck did you expect?

I can’t find words. So, I just stand here, gawping like a guppy while the woman sweeps into the room with effortless grace.

She’s tall, svelte, platinum-haired, and blue-eyed in a way that hints at Scandinavian royalty.

But when she speaks, she has an accent that has the same rounded syllables as Kirill’s.

She’s Russian. Clearly. Just like he is. From the same heritage. And she’s beyond beautiful… I hate to admit it, but they even look good together.

They’re fucking married!

“Zoya,” Kirill interjects after a silence that feels like it’s stretched on forever.

Zoya.

Of course her name is fucking Zoya. Not Olga or Broomhilda or something less exotic. Nope. She has to have a name like something a cover model would have. And I hate her on sight.

“What is this supposed to mean?” Kirill goes on. She’s running those cool blue eyes over me, and from her expression, she finds me lacking. I instinctively straighten my shoulders and raise my chin.

“Could we speak someplace more private?” She slants her eyes at me and then back to him.

“No.” His tone is final. “If you have something to say, you can say it here. In front of everyone.”

There’s no mistaking the message. He’s trying to keep this transparent. At least there’s that.

There’s a flicker of annoyance on Zoya’s face before it’s replaced by a smooth smile. “Of course, milaya moya . I just thought that since this matter is so personal-”

“Get to the point.” Kirill has stiffened. I’ve never seen him like this. We’re still standing close enough for me to feel his scent, but he steps away now, facing her.

“Could we at least sit down?” She indicates the interior of the room, where there’s a comfortable sitting area.

“Fine,” Kirill snaps, turning from me and stalking toward the closest couch. He rests a hip against it, not sitting.

Dima is still hovering uncomfortably in the doorway.

After a gesture from Zoya, he steps aside, and a dark-haired boy walks into the room, moving quickly to catch up with her.

He can’t be older than six, or seven. His face and chubby limbs have the soft roundness of youth, but his eyes…

there’s a darkness there that shouldn’t belong to a child.

His lips are pressed into an anxious line, his head dipped low.

His shoulders are slumped beneath a checked button-down that’s tucked into crisp denims over bright white sneakers.

As for Zoya, she sweeps toward a seat and sinks into it gracefully.

She crosses one toned calf over her knee and leans back comfortably.

As if this was not the most awkward moment any of us has ever been in.

At least, I haven’t. I stand there staring like a fool while the boy takes a seat on the couch beside Zoya.

She takes the little boy’s hand and holds it affectionately.

Kirill’s brow furrows. “What is the meaning of all this?”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your little friend, Kirill?” Zoya glances at me fleetingly. “After all, she knows who I am.”

“This is Tiana.” He aims a look toward me. “Come. Sit.” He jerks his head to the couch he’s resting against. I make my way there and sit down in front of him, trying hard not to feel like a kid who’s doing as I’m told.

“Tiana…” Zoya rolls the word around her tongue. “How sweet.”

“Zoya…” The word is a warning. Kirill rests his hand on my shoulder. It’s a moment of comfort in all the turmoil in my head.

“Of course.” She smiles charmingly. “I’m sure that your friend might want some background first, yes?” Without waiting for a response, she turns to me. “I am Zoya Vyronov, Kirill’s wife. I suspect he has not told you of me.”

I nod, worried about how my voice might come out if I try to speak.

“Of course he has not. That would have been rather inconvenient.” She flicks a look at Kirill, raising a hand as he opens his mouth to speak.

I hold my breath. Nobody silences Kirill. And yet, she doesn’t hesitate.

“Briefly,” she continues, “I was forced to leave my husband some years ago after his activities made me fear for my life.”

“Forced to leave? You deserted our marriage, Zoya.”

“In fear for my life!” She looks stricken for a moment. “I would never have abandoned you if I wasn’t sure I would end up dead. Or worse.”

“I told you that I would protect you, Zoya.”

She raises an eyebrow before turning back to me. “After the third attempt on my life – almost successful that time – I decided it was better that I go.”

“That was your choice.” His voice is ice cold.

“It was my only choice. You know that.” She takes a deep breath and looks down for a moment as if contemplating something. Then she looks up at Kirill. “But that doesn’t mean I’m proud of how I left things between us. I am sorry, Kirill.”

“Right.” Kirill is scowling. “You’re sorry. Is this what you have come here to say?”

“No. I’ve come here because your men dragged me here, thinking I needed saving.

But since I’m here, I might as well tell you.

This time away from you hasn’t been easy.

I may have left, but… I never really got over you, Kirill.

” Her eyes are suddenly filled with so much emotion, I almost feel sorry for her.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s putting on a show.

“What are you talking about?” Kirill’s eyebrows are up a few inches.

“I’m saying, I’ve been missing you, milaya moya . And this time away made me realize where I belong. And that is here. With you.”

Her words are followed by an eerie silence and I suck in a breath.

Just minutes ago, I’d made up my mind that this was where I belonged.

I want to look up at Kirill for reassurance, but I refuse to let this woman see that she’s getting to me.

Not that Kirill would offer any comfort right now.

Even he seems to be speechless. Unless he is keeping his temper in check.

Finally, it’s Zoya who breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, my dear,” she looks at me, her expression earnest. “This is why I wanted to talk to my husband in private. But maybe, it is best if you know the details of the situation.”

“And what might those details be, Zoya? You were gone. Stay gone.” Kirill takes control of the conversation.

“I knew you were going to say that. But I think you will reconsider.”

“And why would I do that?”

Through all of this, the little boy sitting pressed against Zoya’s side has remained silent. Now, she slides an arm around his shoulders and brushes a kiss over his forehead before looking back at Kirill.

“Kirill, this is Stepan.” She pauses, and I have no doubt it’s for dramatic impact. “He is your son.” She pats his shoulder. “Say hello to your Papa, Stepan.”

“My what?” Kirill shoots to his feet with such speed that I have no doubt that this is news to him. I choke out a little sound of alarm.

The child’s lips move soundlessly, probably too intimidated to get the words out. Who could blame him? I would feel the same way.

“He’s your boy, milaya moya. ” Her eyes grow tender as she looks at the child. “Your heir. The Vyronov who will inherit all of this one day.” She sweeps an arm to encompass the room, and beyond.

My heart thunders so hard, I’m sure that it’s going to burst from my chest.

Married.

With a child.

I only realize that I’m twisting my hands on my lap when my nails dig into my skin. All I want to do is leave the room, get Roxie from upstairs, and get away from this shitshow as fast as possible.

“You’re lying!” Kirill barks. Even though there’s now distance between us, I can feel the rage radiating from him. When he steps past me and moves toward her, his fists are curled, and his shoulders rigid with tension.

Zoya remains unflappable. “Why would I lie, milaya moya ?”

“Do not call me that!”

“Old habits die hard.” She shrugs. “And you will always be my sweet one.”

Kirill says nothing. Probably because he must know that she’s testing him. At least, that’s what I think she’s doing.

“He is your son, Kirill. You should know that. It’s not like we were… careful.” She traces a fingertip over the child’s cheek. “Just look at him. How can you deny he’s yours?”

The little boy glances at me as if he’s trying to say something, but he keeps quiet.

For a moment, it’s almost as if he’s trying to reach out.

I must admit, he does look a lot like Kirill.

He then looks down, looking utterly uncomfortable.

I feel for him. What a shitty thing to do to a child.

Parade him in front of a guy who doesn’t even know he existed.

I fold my arms across my chest and wait for the drama to play out. It’s obvious that none of this involves me. I feel like a complete outsider. Zoya, on the other hand, looks as if she simply belongs in this place. And my heart aches at the realization.

“Why should I believe you? Why would you only tell me now if this was true all along?”

Zoya heaves a sigh. “How could I have told you? I couldn’t afford to take the risk, Kirill. My safety… our son’s safety had to come first. Before any love I felt for you. Your entire legacy was at stake, you know that!” There is pain and frustration in her voice.

I pinch my lips together, trying not to cup my hand over my belly.

Kirill’s legacy is growing in me right now.

And he doesn’t even know it. I never told him.

Now that I’m watching these events unfolding, I’m starting to wonder if I ever should.

Maybe Zoya has a point. I don’t know if I can believe what she is saying, but she has a point about one thing: no child would ever be safe in this world.

This is the freaking Bratva. The Russian mafia.

They are criminals who do illegal shit, torture and kill people.

You’ve seen it yourself!

Yet, like a fool, I’ve been looking at this man through rose-tinted spectacles. Imagining some crazy, romantic life together. A life where he might, one day, love me.

But it’s obvious that he’s been withholding the truth.

He’s the Bratva pakhan, Tee!

What the fuck did you expect?

A domesticated father working a nine to five?

Kirill continues speaking. “You were hardly hiding from me, Zoya. You still came out for your regular payments. I made sure you were taken care of.”

“And you have been very generous.” She nods. “But that just won’t cut it anymore.”

“Won’t cut it?” Kirill scoffs. “Obviously not. Because nothing is ever enough for you, Zoya. It didn’t matter how much I indulged you, you always wanted more.”

“I am your wife!” For the first time in this conversation, Zoya looks annoyed, her flawless features turning grim. “And the wife of the Bratva boss has an image to maintain. Just like you do. You know this! It was your job to make sure that happened.”

“My job?” he barks. “And what about your job? What about your duties as my wife?”

Zoya’s expression switches in an instant, suddenly all sweet with concern. “Did I hurt you, milaya moya ? Did I not give you the love you needed?” She cocks her head. “I can change that now. I will show you that-”

“ Poshol na khuy! ” Kirill’s exclamation cuts her short. He’s raking both hands through his hair as he spins on his heel and begins to pace. “That is not what I am saying!”

“ Ya nemogu bez tebya, Kirill! ” Zoya is focused only on him now.

When he spins around again and answers her in rapid Russian, he doesn’t seem to notice me either.

I might as well not be in the room. I find myself shrinking back into my seat as the pair of them fling their hands about and shout at each other.

I feel like a mouse watching a pair of roaring tigers.

And I can’t tell if I’m hearing words of hate or words of love because none of it makes sense to me.

So I sit there silently. Until Kirill stops abruptly and looks at me.

“You should leave.”

“What?” I can’t believe he just said that. But then again, why wouldn’t he? I obviously don’t belong here. “You mean-?”

“Leave,” he repeats, a muscle in his jaw flickering as he turns his blazing eyes at me, then back to Zoya.

Just like that, I’ve been dismissed.

Fury and pain war within me as I try to take this in. He wants to speak to her alone. Whatever they have to say to each other isn’t intended for my ears. Not that I can understand any of it anyway.

Perhaps he doesn’t want to simply speak to her. What if what they’re saying is about rekindling the marriage that she’s hoping to revive now? What if I’m just in the way? I fight down a little choking sob, and with one last apologetic look at Stepan, I get up and leave the room.

Shit.

You should have left on your own, Tee.

It’s true. I should have just stood up and left the moment they started talking to each other. They’re husband and wife. And they obviously have a lot of catching up to do.

Maybe I was wrong to be so hasty to drop the idea of helping the FBI.

Maybe I should be biding my time, waiting for him to do something incriminating so I can tell them and then get the hell out of here.

Maybe I should do all of those things, and then build a new life for me and my baby.

If I’m smart, it’s what I’ll do. It was my plan anyway.

Except my whirlwind romance with Kirill made me change my mind.

But at least I know what to do now.

Without looking back, I walk away to find Roxie.