Born into Chaos (Devils Will Rise: Melnikov Legacy #3)

Prologue

Two Years Earlier

Vitya

W e’ve been patrolling this area for eight nights, and I’m starting to think guarding a house in the woods is going to be my permanent assignment from now on. I look around at the place the Melnikovs call the farmhouse and the acres of woods surrounding it. I’ve had worse gigs, and it’s not like I give a fuck anyway. It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing. There’s no escaping certain things.

Out in the country or in the city—the memories always find me, and there’s fuck all I can do about it.

A quick glance at my watch lets me know I’ve got twenty minutes left on my shift before I switch out with Andrik. Wanting to make the most of it, I walk the perimeter again, scanning the dark woods to the right of me while giving quick nods to the men I pass. Everyone is on high alert. We all know what’s at stake here. It may not seem glamorous, but inside this big house are the wives and kids of the Melnikov brothers, and if anything happens to them, we’re all dead men .

When I’m sure everything’s secure, I head for the back door, hoping I can at least manage a few hours of sleep before it’s my turn again. Not wanting to wake anyone, I punch in the security code and step inside, closing the door behind me.

“Hey, Vitya. Everything look okay?”

The Russian words are whispered, and before I can even fully turn around and answer Andrik, I feel the sharp sting of his blade puncturing my skin. In seconds, the sting turns excruciating as he sinks the knife in to the hilt.

“Fucker,” I growl, trying to reach my own weapon, but he’s already pulling the knife out and bringing it down again, hitting my chest with a brutal strength that brings me to my knees. He’s determined to not give me the chance to fight back. My body falls to the floor, no matter how hard I try to remain upright. The wet heat of my blood soaks my shirt, and I know I’m losing way too much of it.

“Nothing personal,” Andrik whispers as he leans over and smiles down at me. “It’s just money.”

Stupid fucker is already a dead man for going against the Melnikov Bratva, but I guess he’ll figure that out soon enough. He sinks the blade in one last time, and as my vision grows spotty all I can think is that I’ve failed.

I’ve fucking failed again.

I hear my brother’s voice, screaming my name through the chaos as bullets tear into his fifteen-year-old body, and the pain I feel at that memory is a thousand times worse than anything Andrik could do to me. He pulls the knife out, but every part of me is already back in Moscow, reliving that day, the moment my younger brother died in my arms. This is my hell, the one I’ll be doomed to suffer for an eternity, and it’s one I fully deserve. Seryozha’s dead eyes haunt me. He was always so happy, so annoyingly optimistic, but now they’re empty, completely lifeless. In my mind I scream his name, trying like hell to revive him, but just like the day it happened, he remains dead, because no matter what I do, he’s never coming back.

I welcome the darkness when it comes, sick and tired of carrying around the guilt and wanting it to be over. I feel like I’ve only just slipped away when I hear someone screaming my name.

“Vitya! Oh my god, don’t you dare fucking die!”

Her voice sounds so far away, but even though my body remains still and I know my heart is barely beating, she doesn’t give up. If anything, she just gets louder.

“Pyotr! Get your ass down here right fucking now!”

I feel hands on me, pressing against my chest, but I’m too far gone to feel pain or to care. I’m so close to escaping this life, but the woman screaming and putting pressure on my wounds is obviously set on keeping me alive. She sobs, and she must be leaning over me because I feel her tears hit my face, and I want to tell her that it’s okay, to just let me go, but I can’t get the words out. I can’t even find the strength to open my eyes.

“Fuck.”

I recognize Pyotr’s voice. He’s the medic for the Bratva, and even though I don’t have any medical training, I know I’m pretty much a lost cause at this point.

“Sveta,” he starts to say, but she quickly cuts him off.

“Don’t say it,” she hisses. “Fix him.”

I’d laugh if I could, but it’s getting harder and harder to breathe, and I’m pretty sure Andrik hit a lung.

“I’m not sure I can,” Pyotr tries to tell her, but she’s having none of it. He tries again and says, “He’s lost a lot of blood, and we’re an hour away from anything.”

The sob she lets out surprises me, but then she says, “That fucker took my best friend, and I don’t know what’s being done to her right now. He’s not taking anything else from us. Start trying to save him!”

She’s upset about Natalya being taken. They must know by now that it was Andrik, and in her grief, she’s latched onto me. If I can survive, then maybe Natalya can too. It’s a nice thought, but I wish I could tell her that I’m not worth the tears. They’ll get her cousin back. I have no doubt about that. Lev will burn down this whole goddamn world to get his daughter back. Whether I live or die has no effect on that.

She lets out another sob and clutches my arm. “What’s his blood type?”

“A positive,” he says, because Pyotr is a walking encyclopedia of all our medical information.

“Me too,” Svetlana says. “Are you going to do the vein-to-vein transfusion, or do I need to start poking around on my own? We can start it and maybe it’ll keep him alive until we can make it to the hospital.”

When Pyotr hesitates, she must start to make good on her threat because he groans a quick Jesus Christ and seconds later I feel him cutting my shirt off and pressing bandages against the wounds on my chest.

“You hear that?”

I take another breath, and he says, “That wheezing? That means his lung is punctured, Sveta, and who the fuck knows what else.”

Even in my current state I can hear the determination in her voice when she says, “Then you’d better get started. Aleksandr! Bring a car around! We’re moving him as soon as Pyotr stops being a pussy and finds my vein!”

I’d smile at the fire behind her words if I wasn’t slowly dying. I know Svetlana is Vitaly’s daughter and Val’s twin, but I’ve never had a reason to interact with her. I don’t pay much attention to the family members outside of guarding them. Watching Natalya is the first time they’ve ever assigned me anyone. I’ve always been an enforcer, one of the guys they send in to do all the killing. I’m guessing it’ll be the last time they change my assignment since this hasn’t ended so well. I don’t want to die as a failure, but considering I couldn’t even save my own brother, I guess it’s not too much of a surprise.

It doesn’t stop me from wanting to see her, though, to get a glimpse at the woman who’s so desperate to save my sorry ass. Pyotr slides the needle into my vein, and I barely feel it. My whole body is starting to go numb, but before I allow myself to sink back into the darkness, I use the very last of my strength to slowly peel my eyes open. Sveta’ s face fills my vision. Her long, brown hair falls around me, brushing against my cheeks as she hovers over me. Whiskey-brown eyes search mine, and when she sees me staring back at her, she gives the biggest smile and starts to cry harder.

“You will not die, Vitya. Do you hear me?”

My eyes fall shut, the weight of my eyelids too damn much for me, so she leans even closer, so close I can feel her breath hitting my face when she yells, “You will not fucking die!”

I have just enough time to think that she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen before everything goes black.

The next time my eyes open, I’m in a hospital room, surrounded by wires and annoying machines that beep constantly. Every single part of my body hurts, and I’m desperate to just go back to sleep again so I can escape it. When I try to lift my arm, a nurse suddenly appears to stop me. Her face fills my vision, but instead of light-brown eyes and an impressive amount of stubbornness, I see a blonde woman with blue eyes and a not-so-friendly look on her face. She’s all business as she adjusts the wires around me and checks my vitals.

“Can you hear me, sir?”

“Yes.” My voice is raspy, my throat dry as hell, and when she grabs a glass of water, putting the straw to my lips, I gladly take a drink.

“The doctor will be in to see you soon. Can you tell me your name?”

I don’t stop drinking until the glass is empty, and when she pulls the straw back, I say, “Vitya Kozov.”

“Can you tell me what happened to you?”

“Don’t remember,” I say, knowing that’s all she or the police will be getting out of me. I’ll happily let them cart my ass off to prison before I’ll give them a single detail about the Bratva I work for. I pledged my loyalty to them, and they’ll have it until the day I die, which as luck would have it is not today.

“How long have I been here?”

She surprises the hell out of me by saying, “Three days. We had to keep you sedated after the surgery. ”

When I try to move, I hiss out a breath at the sharp rush of pain and earn a very displeased look from the nurse.

“Mr. Kozov, you still have a long recovery ahead of you. It’s a miracle you’re even alive. You were stabbed three times, one of which hit your lung. A man brought you in, claiming he’d found you in an alley, but he left before the police could question him.”

“America is full of good samaritans,” I tell her, and she rolls her eyes at my tone and points to the fading bruise on the inside of my right arm.

“You had a small puncture wound in the crook of your elbow, and judging by your injuries and the amount of blood you’d lost, I’m guessing your good samaritan decided to do a vein-to-vein transfusion before rescuing you from the alley. We also get that a lot in America.”

Even with all the painkillers making my brain sluggish, her sarcasm isn’t lost on me.

She keeps checking me over while I remain silent. I’m just a poor guy who got stabbed in an alley. What the fuck do I know about blood transfusions?

When it’s obvious I’m not going to be appeasing her curiosity anytime soon, she huffs out a breath and says, “The doctor will be in to talk to you.” Raising a brow, she adds, “And so will the police.”

I give her a half-smile, because if she’s expecting me to piss the bed, she’s in for a disappointment. She gives me another soft grunt of disapproval and turns to leave, but I grab her wrist to stop her.

“My necklace,” I tell her. “I want it back.”

“You’ll get your things later,” she tries to tell me, but I squeeze harder, refusing to let her go until she gives me what I want.

“Now. I want it now. It’s a Russian Orthodox cross on a silver chain.”

She looks like she’s about to argue, so I say, “Bring it to me, or I will haul my injured ass out of this bed and get it myself.”

When she hesitates, I throw back the blanket that’s covering me and she lets out an exasperated sigh, letting me know that I’m the most difficult patient she’s ever encountered .

“Fine,” she mutters, fixing my blanket while giving me a stern look. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll bring it to you.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, because I’m not a complete ass.

I have a feeling she’s doing it because she thinks I’m religious, but she’s way off on that one. I don’t believe in anything, but the necklace was my brother’s, and I never take it off.

The nurse returns and even slips it over my head so I’m wearing it again.

“It’s good to have faith in something,” she tells me.

“I don’t have faith in shit,” I tell her, earning me another scowl, “but thank you for bringing it to me.”

The look on her face makes it clear she’s thinking about turning her back on whatever nursing oath she’s taken and giving me a good smack, but she resists and instead leaves the room before she can strangle me. I sometimes have that effect on women.

The doctor comes in a few minutes later, and I manage to make it through his explanation of my injuries and how damn lucky I am to be alive without falling asleep, but then I nod off during the police questioning. It’s only partly for show. I’m fucking exhausted, and their interrogation is boring as hell. They don’t believe me. They know I’m a criminal, but they also know they can’t prove anything. They tell me they’ll be watching me, which I don’t believe for a second, and then one of them sets a business card on the tray by my bed before letting me return to my nap.

When I open my eyes, I’m surprised to see Svetlana standing over my bed. She looks worried and paler than usual, but still so damn beautiful. Her eyes roam over me, making her brows furrow even more, and I want to tell her to stop worrying about me, that I’m not worth a single drop of her precious blood, but I don’t say anything. I know my place in this family, and it will never be at her side. She saved my life, and I can’t just walk away from that. I owe her now. I owe her everything, even if a part of me does still wish that she’d let me die, and even if it means I’m going to have to see way more of her than I want to.

Svetlana Melnikov is going to be my weakness. I can already feel it happening, and when she leans closer, meeting my eyes and whispering, “I was so scared, Vitya,” all I can do is give a noncommittal grunt in response. Her eyes are a beautiful honey brown this close up, and I watch them fill with pain at my response. I want to tell her that I’m doing her a favor, that she needs to stop looking at me like I’m important to her, like I mean something to her, because I know that I never will.

Being around her constantly is going to be hard enough. If I don’t start putting up walls now, then I’ll never survive the position I’ll be asking her dad for as soon as I can get my ass out of this hospital.

When the softness in her eyes turns to anger, I know I’ve won.

Go ahead and hate me, beautiful. It’ll be easier this way.

I give another grunt just to really seal the deal and watch as her cheeks turn an angry shade of pink. She turns to look at Aleksandr, the bodyguard that she doesn’t realize I’ll soon be replacing. “Let’s go.” As she walks away, I hear her mutter, “I can’t believe I saved that jackass.”

You and me both, sweetheart.

I’m stuck in the hospital for another two weeks, and when I’m finally allowed to leave, I’m not at all surprised to find that my bills have already been paid. I’m guessing Danil hacked in and paid them shortly after my arrival. The man is a computer genius and the Melnikov brother responsible for my citizenship paperwork. Without him, I never would’ve been allowed to stay in this country, let alone enter it. The police in Moscow were already looking for me when I left, and without Danil’s help, the authorities would’ve sent my ass right back to them before I’d even gotten the chance to step foot on American soil.

I owe a lot to the Bratva I work for, and I’m not looking forward to facing them after fucking up so badly with Andrik. They knew I was being discharged today and told me to meet them at Vitaly’s apartment. It’s the first time I’ve been to his home, and I’m guessing it means they won’t be killing me today for my fuck-up.

A taxi drops me off outside his building, and by the time I get to the private elevator, I’m winded and in more pain than I want to admit. The doctor warned me to take it easy, but I need to get back on duty as quickly as possible. I don’t like being incapacitated. I need to be doing something. The last thing I want is to be left alone with my thoughts.

Vitaly must have a security camera pointed at me because the doors open on their own, beckoning me to step in. As soon as I’m inside, they shut and the elevator starts to move, not stopping until I’ve reached the penthouse.

All five brothers are waiting for me when the doors open directly onto Vitaly’s apartment. It’s far nicer than any place I’ve ever been in—floor-to-ceiling windows with the sprawling, lit-up city beneath us, expensive furniture, and a kitchen that would make any chef envious. It’s luxurious while also managing to look lived in. Nothing is dipped in gold, and I don’t feel like I’ve stepped into a museum. Family photos are hung on the walls, and everywhere I look I see Svetlana’s smiling face. I can’t seem to escape that woman, and it’s only going to get worse.

“Good to see you up and around,” Roman tells me, motioning for me to take a seat at the kitchen island. Even though it’s not his house, I’m not surprised that he’s taking the lead. He’s always been the unofficial head of the family.

I look over at where Danil is leaning against the counter. “Thanks for taking care of the bills.”

He smiles and nods. “They really make it too damn easy. After you checked out, I went in and erased every trace of evidence that you were ever there. I did the same at the police station.”

I can’t help but grin. Surprised, even though I shouldn’t be. Sitting down, I hide the grimace at the pain in my chest, but Lev notices and says, “That’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch for a while.”

Looking over at him, I watch as he scrubs a hand over his jaw, running his thumb over his lip ring before dropping his hand.

“I fucked up,” I say, figuring we might as well get it out in the open.

Matvey raises a brow at me. “How so?”

I wave a hand at my chest, pointing out the obvious. “I was supposed to be watching your family, and I let myself get stabbed and taken out. Natalya was taken because of me.”

Lev winces at my words, but when he looks at me, I don’t see the rage I’m expecting. The Melnikov brothers are intimidating on a good day, but seeing them when they’re really pissed is not something I ever want to be on the receiving end of. He doesn’t look like he’s about to put all his years of underground fighting to use, though. He just shakes his head and sighs.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“You’d already be fucking dead by now if he thought it was your fault,” Vitaly says with a laugh.

Matvey’s gravely voice fills the kitchen. “Did you know Andrik had turned on us?”

“No, I had no fucking clue that bastard had switched sides. After he stabbed me he said it wasn’t personal, just money.” The memory still pisses me off. I’d kill the bastard if the men around me hadn’t already done it.

“Sorry you couldn’t be there for his death,” Danil tells me.

Vitaly laughs again and grabs several shot glasses and a bottle of vodka. “You should’ve seen it, Vitya. Lev’s been binging Vikings , and he got it in his head that he wanted to try the blood eagle.” He smiles even bigger and pours the vodka while shaking his head. “That man did not die happy.”

“It was a fucking bloodbath,” Roman agrees while taking one of the shots.

“Hey,” Lev says and looks over at me. “It wasn’t that bad for a first attempt.” He stops to laugh. “Nah, they’re right. It was a fucking mess,” he admits, laughing even harder. “I did not do it correctly. I managed to break some ribs off, but he didn’t end up with a pair of wings.”

His brothers all share a laugh, five grown men giggling about the fucked-up blood eagle they’d attempted, and it’s a very good reminder to never fuck with these men.

“Well, I like to think the kids learned something,” Lev says with another grin. “I know Sasha enjoyed it at least.”

“Big surprise to no one,” Vitaly mutters, passing me a shot.

I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to drink with the medicine I’m still on, but I toss it back anyway, grateful for anything that might dull the ache in my chest.

“We’re glad you made it through,” Roman says, lightly smacking my shoulder as he walks by. “I’ve got to go help Luka with something, but let me know if you need anything. Once you feel well enough to start work again, just give one of us a call.”

“I will. Thanks.” I watch him leave, and when the other brothers start to head out, I look over at Vitaly. “Can I talk to you about something?”

He nods and then says a quick bye to the others. Once the elevator doors close, he pours us both another shot and leans against the counter. “What’s on your mind?”

“Svetlana saved my life.”

At the mention of his daughter’s name, he tenses, not quite as laid-back as he was a few seconds ago, and his voice is cautious when he says, “She did.”

“I owe her my life, and I’d like to be assigned as her personal bodyguard.”

“I see,” he says before tossing back his drink, and the hard tone makes it clear he’s not thrilled with my plan. Meeting my eyes, he braces his hands on the counter and leans just a little bit closer. “Why do you want this assignment? Because she saved your life?”

“Yes,” I tell him. “I owe it to her.”

“So this is some kind of honor thing? You pledge your life to hers, or some shit like that?”

“I’m not pledging my life to hers,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice calm, because the last thing I want is a pissed-off Vitaly. They’re all paranoid about their daughters, and I know how carefully I need to tread right now. “I owe her my life,” I repeat, “and I will keep her safe.”

Vitaly’s eyes stay locked on mine, the same light shade of brown as his daughter’s. “She will remind you that she saved your life and use it against you. She’ll expect you to bend the rules for her. She’s stubborn.” A very small smile lifts the corner of his mouth when he adds, “Just like her mother. ”

I don’t argue that her stubborn willfulness reminds me a lot of him. Instead, I hold his stare and say, “With all due respect, I won’t let her get away with shit. I’m not some kid she can bully into getting her way. I will keep her safe, and she will learn to listen to me.”

Vitaly straightens up and opens the drawer next to him. He digs around, and I hear the clatter of silverware before he pulls out a knife. It’s the kind that has the tiniest edge to it, the one that serves no other purpose in my own kitchen aside from buttering my damn toast. He rests it on the counter in between us. I eye it warily but don’t say a word. The last thing I want is another fucking knife in my chest.

“If you ever touch my daughter inappropriately or put any part of your body inside hers, I will use this very dull knife to cut your dick off. My brothers will hold you down, and I will see-saw that dull blade across your dick until the fucker falls off, and then I’ll do the same thing to your balls. Do you understand me, Vitya?”

I nod, refusing to think about how badly it would hurt to have my cock sawed off with a fucking butter knife, but I quickly reassure myself with the knowledge that it’ll never fucking happen, because Sveta and I will never be a thing. I will keep her ass safe, and she will let me. End of story.

“Understood,” I tell Vitaly. “I will be her bodyguard and nothing else, but I need to know that you won’t get upset if I have to get firm with her.”

He quirks a brow at me. “Meaning?”

“She’s strong-willed,” I say, trying to put it nicely instead of coming right out and saying she’s as stubborn as a mule. “In order for me to keep her safe, she’ll need to understand that she has to follow my rules. I won’t let her walk all over me, and if I decide a situation is unsafe, then I will be removing her from the situation, even if that means I’m hauling her over my shoulder to do it.”

Vitaly laughs and tosses the knife back in the drawer. “This should be interesting.” He pours us both another shot and raises it up so we can drink to our new arrangement. “Text me when you’re ready to work. You’re no use to me if you’re too injured to protect my daughter. Take some time off and let yourself heal.”

He tosses back his shot and gives another laugh. “We’re all going to be busy with Natalya’s wedding anyway. Making sure Lev doesn’t kill his future son-in-law is going to be a full-time job.”

I’d kept up with things while in the hospital, so I’m already aware of Natalya and Dominic’s engagement, but I also know it’s not my place to do anything other than raise my shot glass in a toast to the happy couple. Who their daughters marry is of no concern to me.

Vitaly walks me to the door, and I leave without ever catching sight of the rest of his family. Sveta’s twin brother, Val, has officially joined the Bratva, along with Roman and Danil’s oldest sons, so I’m sure I’ll see him around soon enough, but Katya, Vitaly’s wife, isn’t someone I usually run into, and I’m not surprised to find her absent today. The Melnikov men are very protective of their wives and kids. There was no reason for me to see them today, so Vitaly made sure I didn’t.

I know I won’t ever have a family, but if I did, I’d be the same damn way. This world is cruel to fragile things. My brother learned that lesson the hard way, and I’ll be damned if I ever live through something like that again.

No attachments means no one gets hurt.

I can watch over Svetlana and keep her at arm’s length. She’s stubborn, but she’s no match for me. I’m a highly trained member of one of the world’s most notorious Bratvas.

I think I can handle one eighteen-year-old, no matter how damn gorgeous she is.

Two months later, Vitaly gives me the all clear to start work. I haven’t seen Sveta since the day she came to see me in the hospital, and as I get in their private elevator, I can’t help but hope that my memory of her isn’t correct, that maybe blood loss and painkillers had fucked with my head more than I realized. I’ve almost convinced myself of my own bullshit when the elevator doors open, and Svetlana shoots it all to hell.

Her honey-brown eyes aren’t nearly as sweet as they were when she thought I was dying. She’s glaring at me with one hand hiked on her hip, looking every bit as beautiful as I remember her being. I have the insane urge to close the distance and press my lips to the mouth that’s currently scowling at me. Instead of breaking my promise to Vitaly on my first official fucking day of work, I nod at Svetlana and step into the penthouse apartment.

“I can’t believe my dad assigned you to me,” she mutters, and I don’t bother correcting her and telling her that I asked for the position. “Follow me. He wants to see you before we leave.”

Without a word, I follow her down the hall, staring at her perfect ass the whole way. Before we turn the corner, I pull my eyes away from the curves that threaten to undo me and turn my face into an unreadable mask. Vitaly is waiting for us, leaning against the counter as he drinks a mug of coffee. His eyes run over me, but he stays silent, and if he thinks I’m going to be the one to break the silence, he’s in for a surprise. I’m used to keeping my mouth shut and following orders. Skills that I predict will serve me well in my new position.

Vitaly sets his mug down and turns to his daughter. His eyes immediately soften when he looks at her. “Do as he says, Sveta. His job is to keep you safe.”

Sveta sighs and grabs a banana from the bowl on the counter. “I don’t understand why I can’t just have Val take me places.”

“Because Val has better things to do than drive his twin to the mall,” Val says, walking in and heading straight for the fridge. “Hey, Vitya,” he tells me on his way by. I nod to him but stay silent. Grabbing a drink, he slams the door shut and looks back at Sveta. “Plus, you know you’re not allowed to eat in my car.”

“One time,” Sveta says around a mouthful of food, “and the stain came out.”

“Eventually,” Val says. He looks over at me. “She ate a cupcake and got crumbs everywhere, and then she spilled her chocolate milk. I almost tossed her out at a red light.”

He’s laughing while he tells the story, but I’m already cringing at the idea of her making a mess of the SUV I’ll be driving. I don’t do so well with messes. I like things clean and in order. Sveta meets my eyes and laughs like she can read every damn thought I’m having, and then she tosses the banana peel in the garbage and puts her hand right back on her hip and asks, “You ready to go?”

I nod and then turn to Vitaly when he says, “Don’t forget what we talked about.”

He doesn’t need to remind me of the threat. I have no intention of losing my dick or of touching his daughter. She’ll get out of my head soon enough. She has to. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t been able to figure out a way to do it over the last two months and that was without seeing her every day, and it doesn’t matter that every night I still dream of her sweet face hovering over mine, begging me to live.

“Your job is to protect her with your life,” Vitaly reminds me as if I don’t already know what my position entails. “If something happens, you save her life.” He smiles at me. “It’s as simple as that.”

“I will,” I tell him, speaking my first words since arriving.

He nods and then gives Sveta a hug before he tilts his head back and yells, “ Ptichka , get your sweet ass in here so I can kiss you goodbye.”

Katya comes walking in with a smile on her face, and as soon as Vitaly sees her, he pulls her close and kisses her.

“Dad, really?” Sveta groans, but Val just laughs and shakes his head, the two of them clearly used to seeing their parents’ public displays of affection.

Vitaly pulls back, leaving Katya blushing and flustered before he smacks her ass and says, “I love your mom, and I’m incapable of hiding it.”

“Have you ever tried?” Sveta deadpans, but I can tell she’s fighting a laugh.

Vitaly gives her a wink. “Once a very long time ago after our forced nuptials, and I swore I’d never do it again.”

“It didn’t last long anyway,” Katya says, reaching around to squeeze his ass.

“Jesus, Mom.” Val groans and then looks at Sveta. “We can’t take them anywhere.”

“Way too embarrassing,” Sveta agrees with a smile.

I watch their interactions, trying to puzzle out this family. The brothers I’m familiar with. I’ve been working for them long enough to know who they are as Bratva bosses—fair but brutal when the situation calls for it. They have a reputation that demands respect and there are enough rumors floating around, all of them true, that ensures people don’t fuck with them. This is a new side, though, one I caught glimpses of when I was watching Natalya, and it’s so at odds with the brutality I’ve seen that all I can do is stare. I once saw Vitaly gut a man while eating fruit snacks, but now he’s laughing with his wife and kids, looking every bit like a family man whose entire world is right in front of him. Well, he looks like a typical family man aside from the tattoos covering just about every exposed inch of him and the obvious lack of a dad bod.

I’m still trying to puzzle it out when they leave to go do whatever the hell it is that I’ll no longer be a part of. My job is the gorgeous woman who’s still standing a few feet away from me and eyeing me like she’s not at all thrilled with this new arrangement.

“I need to go and get some things,” she tells me.

“Where?”

My one-word question somehow seems to piss her off because she sighs in an annoyed-sounding way and says, “I want to get a coffee at the place on the corner, and there’s an art store on ninth that I need to go to.”

“Oh, honey, could you grab me another sketchpad and a few colored pencils?” Katya asks, smiling over at us, and she’s either oblivious to the tension in the room or choosing to ignore it.

“Sure. What colors do you need? ”

“Just get me a bunch of different blues. I’m not sure which one will work best yet,” Katya tells her.

I’ve heard Vitaly talk about his wife’s art, but I’ve never seen it, and I had no idea that Sveta was an artist too. I’m curious if she’s any good, but I’m not about to ask to see her work. I’m guessing bodyguards don’t usually do that.

While Sveta runs to grab her bag, Katya walks over to me and surprises me by giving me a quick hug.

“Thanks for watching over her, Vitya. Vitaly and I appreciate it so much. I worry about my kids all the time, but I feel better knowing you’ll be with her.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” I say, and she smiles up at me like she knows something I don’t.

She squeezes my arm and says, “I know you won’t.” Before she walks off, she adds, “It’s so good to see you up and around again. We were all worried about you.”

Katya and the other wives had sent me flowers and made sure I had plenty of food while I was recovering, but I figured that was just standard behavior when someone in the Bratva gets hurt, but the way Katya is looking at me makes it seem like she genuinely cares.

I’m not sure what to say, so I just mutter a, “Thanks, Mrs. Melnikov,” and then go to wait by the elevator. Sveta meets me a few minutes later. She has a worn messenger bag thrown over her shoulder, and she’s put on a pink, knitted cap since the weather has turned chilly. Fuck does she look cute in it.

When the elevator doors open, she steps in and says, “Mind if we hit the coffee shop first?”

“No,” I tell her while I watch the countdown on the small screen as we descend to the parking garage. As soon as the doors open, she starts to barrel out and my hand instinctively reaches out to grab her arm and stop her.

“Hey!” Her brows furrow as she looks up at me.

“You can’t just run out,” I tell her, ignoring her look as I scan the garage in front of us, looking for anything that could be a threat .

“I didn’t run out. I just stepped off the elevator,” she argues.

“Next time wait for me to say it’s okay.”

She lets out a heavy sigh that I ignore, and when I’m sure it’s safe, I guide her to the black SUV in the corner. Once she’s in the passenger seat, I walk around and get in the driver’s side. When she makes no move to put her seat belt on, I look over and point to it.

“Are you joking right now?”

I keep pointing. “No.”

She puts it on while muttering something under her breath that’s probably for the best I don’t hear.

She and I are off to a great start.

With traffic it takes us longer to get to the coffee shop than it should, but as soon as I pull into a spot, she reaches for the door handle, forcing me to grab her arm again.

“Aleksandr wasn’t this bossy,” she tells me.

I don’t bother saying that I don’t give a fuck how Aleksandr was. I scan the parking lot and then make sure my jacket is covering the shoulder holster I’m wearing before I nod to let her know it’s okay to get out.

Sticking close to her tight ass, we walk inside and get in line. The place is packed, but the crowd seems harmless enough, mostly men and women on their way to and from work and a few stay-at-home moms with their babies. I don’t see anything that could be a threat aside from the few motherfuckers who keep glancing at Sveta. When one older guy zeros in on her ass, I position myself between them, letting him stare at my ass instead. He quickly looks away while I bite back the smile I want to give.

At the counter, Sveta orders a drink and then points to a muffin that looks like it’s nothing but sugar, she surprises me by glancing over her shoulder and asking me in Russian if I want anything. I decline the offer with a shake of my head because it doesn’t feel right to have her pay for me, and when I order my own drink, she just scrunches her brow, looking both confused and hurt.

We wait in silence until our names are called, and after we’ve grabbed our stuff, we head for the door. I don’t like having anything in my hand, but I know I’ll drop it in less than a second if I need to reach for my gun. I keep my right hand free, though, just in case, and keep an eye on everything around us as I walk her back to the vehicle.

On the drive to the art store, it fully hits me how different my life is going to be now. I’m going to be at Sveta’s beck and call, and my days are going to consist of driving her wherever she wants and waiting. There’s going to be a lot of fucking waiting. I’m also going to have a permanent headache from staying on high alert every second we’re outside her apartment. I can’t let my guard down for a second. I begin to question why in the hell I asked for this position when we stop at a red light and I look over at her. She’s looking around, oblivious to the fact that I’m watching her, and she’s so beautiful it makes my chest ache. The thought of walking away, of letting some other Bratva member watch her doesn’t sit well with me. What if they fuck up and she gets hurt? What if her attitude drives them crazy and they can’t handle her and she runs off?

I can’t let anything happen to her, and I’m the only one I trust to watch over her, so babysitting duty it is.

I’m pleasantly surprised when I pull into the parking lot for the art store and she waits for me to tell her it’s okay to get out. For a brief moment, I start to think that maybe this won’t be so bad, but then she gives me a wicked grin and walks inside. The man behind the counter immediately perks up when he sees Sveta walking towards him. He’s probably in his early twenties, nice looking enough, and obviously smitten with the woman in front of him.

“Svetlana, what can I help you with today?” he asks, leaning against the counter with a big smile and a too-eager attitude.

“Hey, Chris, how are you doing?” Sveta saunters over and smiles right back at him. “I need to grab some stuff for my mom, and I also need some more charcoal sticks.”

Chris beams at her, and when I take a step closer, the smile falters as he takes in the very unamused look on my face.

Sveta notices and gives a soft laugh while waving a dismissive hand in my direction. “Don’t mind him.” She lowers her voice like I’m an idiot and says, “He’s a cousin from Russia. Doesn’t speak a word of English. My dad is forcing me to show him around the city.” She looks back at me, and I can tell she’s fighting a shit-eating grin. “Poor thing doesn’t have any friends.”

Chris laughs, and I really want to punch him for it, but thanks to Sveta, I have to stand here and pretend like I haven’t the faintest fucking clue as to what’s going on.

Switching to Russian, she asks, “You don’t mind, do you, Vitya? I mean, we don’t want anyone getting suspicious.” Before I can respond, she says in English, “I’m gonna have a look around.”

“Let me know if you need any help,” he quickly says, eager as a puppy to follow at her heels.

“I will. Thanks.” She gives him another smile and then walks off while I trail closely behind her.

“Don’t do that again,” I tell her in Russian, aiming for calm, but my words still come out hard.

She has the nerve to laugh before squatting down by the sketchpads. “Oh yeah? Or what?”

There are a lot of things I want to say, but all of them will land me in a lot of trouble with her dad, so I bite my lip to keep quiet while she smiles up at me.

“Aleksandr didn’t try to interfere when I talked to people.”

It’s painfully obvious that she and I are going to have to have a discussion about how things are going to work, but we can’t do it here, so I stay quiet, waiting patiently while she shops and Chris flirts and I pretend like I’m a cousin who’s completely clueless about everything.

I’m barely hanging on by the time we leave the store, and as soon as we’re to the SUV, I open the back so she can shove her bags inside. Instead of walking her to the passenger side, I surprise her by grabbing her arm and hauling her ass to my side, the one that’s hidden from view and private.

Pressing my hands to the side of the door, I box her in and lean in close. Her brown eyes widen slightly as her mouth parts on a gasp. I ignore how badly I want to close the distance and kiss her.

“We need to get a few things straight if this is going to work, Sveta.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I keep staring at her, refusing to back up even an inch to give her space. She’s stuck here until I decide it’s time for her to leave.

She doesn’t back down, holding my gaze as she asks, “And what do we need to get straight?”

Her defiance has my cock getting hard fast, and I have to fight like hell to keep it in check. “No more jumping out of the vehicle before I say it’s okay, no more doing whatever the hell you want, and don’t ever do any of the shit you just pulled in that store again.”

“You have a lot of rules, Vitya.”

I lean in even closer. “My job is to keep you safe and alive. Your job is to do what I say so that I can make that happen.”

“Your job is to keep me alive?”

“Yes.”

“Kind of like how I kept you alive?”

I grunt in annoyance at how easily I walked into that one while she says, “I’m still waiting for my thank you, by the way.”

I’m not thanking her. I like how annoyed it’s making her too much to give in and give her what she wants. When I stay silent, she says, “Aleksandr had a personality.”

“How nice for him.” I glance around, making sure we’re still alone before I say, “Get in the fucking SUV, Sveta, and buckle your goddamn seat belt.”

As harsh as my words are, my hand reaches out like it has a mind of its own, pulling her knit hat down lower so it’s covering her ears. The wind has picked up, and I don’t like the idea of her getting cold. Her eyes widen at my touch, but I pull away before she can say or do anything.

I wait until she’s opening her door before I do the same and get in. It’s not long before I realize I should’ve added more rules to the list when she reaches for her muffin and starts to eat it, dropping crumbs all over her lap and the seat.

“Jesus Christ,” I groan.

“What?” Her mouth is stuffed when she looks over at me, clueless as to what could be pissing me off.

I motion to her lap and the mess she’s making. “It’s a car, Vitya. It’s not like I just left a trail of muddy footprints all over your house. Besides, I was hungry. I get grumpy when I don’t eat.”

Over the next few weeks, I learn how true that is. Sveta is a hard-headed woman who constantly keeps me on my toes, but despite what a handful she is, I still wake up every morning anxious to see her again. She’s constantly threatening to tear down the walls I’ve worked so hard to put between us, but I can’t let her in. The only way this is going to work is to keep her at arm’s length.

Because Svetlana Melnikov can never be mine.