4. Lev
Chapter four
Lev
My alarm on my phone goes off, and I groan, rolling over in bed and smacking the nightstand until it turns off.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and see a text from Roman.
It must not have been that important if he didn’t call and wake me.
I haven’t been sleeping for shit lately and didn’t manage to fall asleep until around three this morning. It’s now six. Awesome.
Roman: Just an FYI, Tati walked in on her boyfriend with another woman. She seems fine, but maybe go easy on her today?
That fucker. I knew he was a piece of shit. He was too perfect - too performative. No one parts their hair like that.
I take a quick shower, grab a protein smoothie, and head upstairs to her apartment.
We rented one on the floor below hers, but really just use it to sleep in.
We alternate twelve-hour shifts, but following a spoiled Bratva princess around doesn’t actually make me tired enough to sleep well.
Roman may still wear a suit, but he’s old school.
Instead, I have a wardrobe of black cargo pants, black boots, and black t-shirts.
I still look official but not like a prick.
I open the door to the stairwell and take them two at a time to Tatiana’s floor.
When I walk in, Roman’s yawning and stretching, Mik’s in the kitchen cooking breakfast, and Tatiana’s still in those short and cute as fuck sleep shorts she always wears, putting on the hundreds of creams, lotions, or serums she uses. She’s ridiculous with it all, but if it makes her happy...
I don’t know how Mik does it. Spooning her every night when she’s been wearing next to nothing for years.
The man has the control of a monk. Or a saint.
Which is why I call him “Joey” for Saint Joseph, who preached self-control and abstinence.
Because I could never. I’d have her gagging on my cock in seconds.
Which would get me killed. But ah, what a way to go.
My family has worked for the Chernovs for decades, ever since Tati’s grandfather, the Pakhan, came over from the old world.
They never lived long enough to climb the ranks, but the Chernov absolutely grew and benefited from our deaths.
My grandfather died at thirty-eight, when a shootout with the cops went bad.
My father, at thirty-two, was stabbed in the back in an alley and left to die.
My uncle? Car bomb. My cousin? Captured by the Italians, tortured, and then his body was dumped in the Potomac like garbage.
Even before we emigrated, my great-grandfather died in a Siberian labor camp for his ties to the Chernovs. I’m thirty. Which means if I’m lucky, I’ve got another ten years left.
I get a debrief from Roman and send him off before following Mik and Tati down their building, onto the street, and to campus, a quick walk away.
We could drive, of course, but this is the first time she’s gotten a taste of freedom, so she’s living it up.
Her parents didn’t want her to go to college at all.
Why would she need a degree when her duty is to be a wife?
She applied behind their back, bribed the head office to accept her, and then promised her mother that she would prioritize dating and finding a “nice boy” over her schooling. Look where that’s gotten her. One disappointment after the other. Fuck, I hate my gender sometimes. Men can be awful.
First, it was Carter Whitlock, a politician’s son, who, after three dates, expected her to put out and threw a temper tantrum when she didn’t.
Then it was Nikolai Skolov, the son of the Bratva-connected family from New Jersey, who, after two dates, was planning their wedding and when she could start having babies.
Then it was Julian Vale, a wealthy tech-bro from DC, who wanted to compare their ancestries to see if she was of the correct bloodline to be with him, since he was related to George Washington’s third cousin. I kid you not.
Every man afterwards has somehow gotten worse.
I never trusted Leo, but for her sake, I wanted it to work out.
He was the son of a shady real estate mogul.
He said all the right things, did all the right things, and things were looking promising.
Until last night, I guess. I need to get her alone to get all the details so I know how badly I need to hurt him.
The late morning air has a chill in it. It’s September in Baltimore, and while the ocean usually keeps us temperate, there’s no telling from day to day what the weather will do. When Tati shivers, Mik wraps an arm around her shoulders.
I follow behind them, scanning the street ahead and behind us.
Through all of our intelligence, the threat to her is minimal.
Not many people even know who she is, and they’d never expect a Bratva princess to be walking around in civilian clothing, going to a civilian college to get a fine arts degree.
It’s not until we cross the busy street and get to campus that the hair on the back of my neck pricks up. First, it’s one kid - walking to class and holding a coffee - who watches her a little too long for comfort. But she’s a pretty girl, and he doesn’t exactly seem like a threat.
But as we walk to the fine arts building, more people stare, a few whisper, and I know shit is going to hit the fan.
And then I spot the fucker. With his arm across the shoulder of a bleach-blonde with big tits. That’s who he cheated with? Tatiana’s leagues above that girl.
I must growl or snort or something, because Tati spins on me and presses a hand to my chest.
“No.”
I grin, feigning innocence, and raise my hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Leave it alone, Lev. I mean it. It’s not worth it. I don’t want the drama.”
That’s when it clicks for me. Leo told people. Or the girl did. Or someone saw her leaving his building and put two and two together. But if I had to guess, it was the snake walking towards us with his hair parted too perfectly and a smug grin on his face.
“Please,” she begs, her hand fisting my shirt. Fuck. I can’t deny her anything.
My shoulders slump.
She takes this as my submission, which it is. She presses her shoulders back, not willing to make herself smaller because of his betrayal.
But when they pass, and Leo makes an exaggerated cough with “brother fucker” underneath, I break my promise.
I go to swing, but Mik grabs my arm and hauls me away from the prick.
It’s a good thing he stepped in, because I can’t protect her from prison, and there are cameras all over this campus.
But I’ll get my revenge later, when no one’s watching.
Leo’s stupid grin falters when I smile at him like a maniac and blow him a kiss as Mik drags me into the building. I’m going to enjoy knocking his teeth in.
Tatiana finds her seat, and I sit beside her, Mik on her other side, as she cuddles in underneath his arm. I can’t help but stare at his stupid hand on her stupid shoulder. Touching her in a way I’ll never be able to.
Tati arranges her notebook and her cute little pens and highlighters as the professor, a fat guy who peaked in his thirties, begins the lecture.
I scan the room for threats, noticing the whispers and stares, noting who is the loudest.
And when two girls a few rows behind us whisper “brother fucker” and Tati tenses, I’m apparently not done making bad decisions today.