Chapter 11 - Ilana
Dimitri met me halfway down the hall, arms overflowing with supplies. He had everything. From gauze rolls to antiseptics to alcohol swabs and clean towels. I grabbed half the things before he could protest.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He only nodded, always quiet, always observant.
My heart hammered as I walked back into the living room.
Timofey was still sprawled on the couch, shirt half open, blood soaking into the fabric.
Avgust hovered over him, jaw clenched tight, hand steady in that cold, lethal way he carried himself when the world turned threatening.
They both looked up when I entered. Abram walked in right after, holding two bowls filled with clean water.
“I’ve got it,” I said quickly, crossing the room before Avgust could argue. “Move and give me some space.”
Avgust’s brows pulled together. “Ilana—”
“I’ll do it better than you. Trust me,” I said, forcing my voice to stay firm.
It was already difficult for me to convince myself, but Timofey’s wound needed attention before it got infected.
For a moment, I thought Avgust would refuse.
His glare cut sharp as a blade, the kind of look that made lesser men step back.
But then something in his jaw shifted.
He moved aside.
Slowly and reluctantly. But he moved anyway.
Timofey flashed a pained grin. “You’re an angel, Ilana.”
“I’m not,” I murmured, kneeling beside him. “But hold still.”
I dipped one of the towels in the bowl of water, wringing it to remove all the excess water. He hissed when I pressed a towel on his wound, letting the blood seep through it. The towel turned red within seconds, but I kept holding onto it firmly.
“This looks deep,” I muttered. “Did the blade stay in for long?”
“Nah,” he said breathlessly, clearly in pain. “It was a quick stab. I think the man who hit me took it out almost at once, but it was quick and sharp and very painful.”
“That is clearly not ideal.”
“Getting stabbed by strangers is never ideal,” he joked weakly. “But if I get to be treated and taken care of by someone as beautiful as you, it might be just fine.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the antiseptic. “You are unbelievable to be thinking of jokes right now when you are so much in pain.”
Avgust’s voice cut in. “Yes, Avgust, just shut up and let Ilana deal with your recklessness.”
Timofey smirked. “Are you jealous, brother?”
“Of your lack of brain cells?” Avgust shot back. “Never.”
I ignored them both, determined to clean the wound properly. I pressed the soaked gauze to the gash along Timofey’s ribs. He tensed hard but didn’t push me away.
“You’re good at this,” he said through clenched teeth. “Much better than Avgust would have been for sure. I am actually glad you are here.”
“I’ve grown up with brothers,” I said. “Someone had to patch them up whenever they did something stupid, so I have had my fair share of practice.”
Timofey laughed, but quickly winced at the pain it caused. “I am sure Zhenya, our younger sister, will be able to relate to that. You two might even be around the same age. I bet you will get along with her.”
Avgust made a low sound that might’ve been an annoyance. Or warning. Or both.
“I would love to meet her,” I smiled, continuing to disinfect his wound. I glanced at Avgust, “If Avgust finally decides to introduce me to his family at some point in time.”
I waited for Avgust to say something, but he remained silent, a neutral expression on his face.
“Oh, he will. Eventually.” Timofey replied, waving him away. “And if he doesn’t, I will make sure to do that on his behalf. After all, what are brothers-in-law for?”
I smiled, my focus entirely on the wound once again.
Timofey eyed the two of us, then leaned closer to me conspiratorially. “So. Wanna tell me what happened? Not every day someone gets snatched into an auction the likes of the one that night, or any for that matter.”
I swallowed. The antiseptic stung both my fingers and his wound, but his question brought back memories that stung a lot more.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, Ilana,” Avgust chimed in, and I shook my head softly.
“It’s alright. I don’t know who took me,” I said carefully. “I was at an art gallery. One moment, I was looking at the paintings and sketching, and then someone barged in and took me with them. The entire route was dark, and when I finally opened my eyes again, I was inside a cell.”
“Timofey’s expression darkened. “Fucking animals.”
I nodded, throat tightening.
“Seen a lot of shitty things in the underworld,” he continued. “But those auctions? That’s the lowest of the low. We don’t touch that kind of business. Right, Avgust?”
“Yeah,” Avgust said, “The Chernykhs don’t get involved in this dirt.”
“So the Chernykhs, you guys, I mean, are… a Bratva family, right?”
Timofey and Avgust glanced at one another before both their gazes darted back to me. “Yes. Bratva. Born and raised.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You know nothing about the Bratva world?” Timofey asked, clearly surprised. “Avgust keeping you in the dark about things?”
“I never really thought about asking him,” I shrugged, still focused on the found.
“A Bratva family has ties and connections to the underworld, but it doesn’t mean we are involved in crimes alone.
Yes, smuggling, arms dealing, and other things come under the Bratva’s domain, but we also have other businesses that help us generate white money.
It is essentially about having both legal and illegal power to turn things exactly the way you want them to be. ”
“And every family has a leader?”
“Yes,” Avgust replied, making me turn to look at him. “The Pakhan is the eldest member of the Bratva. For the Chernykhs, it's Iosif because he is the eldest brother.”
I hesitated. “I have been in Russia for a while because I studied in Moscow. Everyone there talked about the Bratva, but only from far away. They were just stories and rumors, things that never felt like part of our reality. It’s not exactly… something you see unless you’re a part of it.”
Avgust nodded. “Good. It’s better that way. We don’t like to show ourselves anyway.”
I cleaned the edges of Timofey’s wound carefully, trying to remove all the dried blood. He grunted but didn’t pull away.
“So,” he continued, eyes bright despite the pain, “what do you think of it now? The Bratva world? Given you are now both technically and legally a part of it.”
I glanced at Avgust involuntarily. His eyes met instantly, hard and watching. Reading far too much like he always did. I tore my gaze away from him.
“I think,” I whispered, “that like anything powerful… it can be good or bad. It really just depends on who's running it and who's inside. I am sure there are good Bratva families and bad ones. Bratva families who condemn auctions and bratva families who organize them.”
Timofey’s smile softened. “Fair answer.”
Avgust’s jaw ticked, and I ignored him again. Timofey studied me as I wrapped the fresh bandage around his side. “So you’re married to my brother now, which makes you family. You are my sister-in-law. And I am lucky to have such a beautiful sister-in-law, I must say. Avgust has good—”
“That’s more than enough, Timofey,” Avgust grunted, an edge of anger in his voice.
I flushed. “It wasn’t exactly a marriage if you look at it.”
“It was just for protection,” Avgust interjected sharply, repeating the same thing yet again. I did not know why that statement felt hurtful when he said it like this. As if I was nothing but an object he needed to save and protect and keep under his wing.
Timofey smirked. “Sure. It was protection.”
“It was,” I snapped, though my face burned. “It was not like he presented me with a choice. I was practically forced into it, and he made me sign the marriage license.”
Timofey opened his mouth to tease again, but this time Avgust’s glare was lethal enough to silence him.
“You are good,” I said softly, tightening the last strip of gauze. “If the wound heals, which it hopefully will, you will not need proper stitching. But for now, you will be okay.”
Timofey let out a breath of relief. “Thanks, angel.”
I shook my head. “Just rest.”
Avgust motioned to Dimitri and Abram. “Take him to the east room and stay with him through the night.”
Timofey groaned as he stood back up, leaning on Dimitri. “I’m fine, I’m fine. None of you needs to stay with me. I will just go to sleep after some painkillers. Please get me some painkillers.”
“I will fetch those for you,” Abram said, exiting through the open doorway while Dimitri still helped Timofey.
“Just shut up and walk. No one is asking you for advice,” Avgust muttered.
“Bossy,” Timofey teased, but Avgust did not respond to him.
I quickly put everything back into the first-aid box and gathered supplies after dipping my hands in water and wiping them on a clean towel.
In reality, I was just trying to steady my heartbeat.
My life had stopped making sense lately, and every day was a new experience.
Running into Timofey and finally meeting someone from Avgust’s world felt strange. It almost made Avgust feel real.
He had a family. Brothers. A sister he clearly loved. He was not just the man who had rescued me from an auction and then saved my life a second time. He was so much more than just the man living in the safe house with me. So much more than just my husband.
A maid came in and took the supplies away, leaving me alone in the living room with Avgust. When I finally looked at him, he was already watching me, but not with gratitude or softness.
Instead, with something much darker and harder simmering just underneath the surface.
I could see that whatever it was that was going through his head was far from over. Very, very far.
“Are you going to tell me why you were acting like that?” I asked, voice steady, before he could say anything.
Avgust didn’t blink. “Acting like what?”
“Like a storm cloud with a personal vendetta,” I snapped. “You were practically growling the entire time and were rude to your own brother.”
He exhaled slowly, but his jaw tightened. “I wasn’t growling.”
“Yes, you were.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
His silence admitted it for him.
I stepped closer. “Timofey was bleeding, and I was helping him. You didn’t need to sit there glaring at the two of us like we had committed a crime. What was with the attitude?”
His eyes flicked to me, sharp and cutting. “He talks too much.”
“No,” I said. “He talks normally. You’re the one who’s—”
“Enough,” he muttered.
“No,” I repeated, heat rising in my voice. “Not enough. You’ve been snapping at me all night for no good reason, and now you want me to shut up and not even complain about it? Who do you think I am?”
“Ilana.” His tone was a warning, but I didn’t care.
“You were rude, impatient, and clearly hostile for no good reason. What is your problem?”
His gaze finally locked with mine, and there I could see it. The storm. The very thing he tried to hide but never could.
“My problem,” he said lowly, “is that he doesn’t know how to shut up. He flirts with anything that breathes. He makes jokes when he’s bleeding out. And he—”
He broke off.
I raised an eyebrow. “And he what?”
Avgust looked away sharply, but I stepped closer to him, refusing to let the matter slide.
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Avgust, please don’t test my patience right now. Just say it.”
His eyes snapped back to mine, and I could see how dark, dangerous and heated they looked.
Fine.
If he wasn’t going to say it, I would.
“Were you jealous?”
His entire body went still. Utterly motionless.
“Don’t push me right now, Ilana. I am already seething.” That was not a denial.
My pulse tripped, but not with fear. With something else entirely. With something reckless and hot.
“I don’t know if you failed to notice, but I wasn’t flirting back with him,” I said quietly.
“You were talking to him.” His voice was tight, almost strained. “Too easily. As if you had known each other for decades.”
“Maybe because he wasn’t glaring at me the whole time, and he is fairly easy to talk to.”
His nostrils flared, but I stepped even closer. Close enough that I had to tilt my head to look directly into his eyes.
“Even if I was,” I whispered, “you don’t own me, Avgust.”
Something snapped inside him. Visibly. He moved before I could take my next breath as his hand came to my waist, firm and possessive. His other hand caught my jaw, tilting my face up to his own. He pressed me back against the wall, not roughly, but with absolute, unyielding control.
“I know I don’t own you,” he said, voice low, breath hot against my lips. “But don’t think for even one second that I didn’t want to. And that I can’t. If I wanted to own you, you would be mine. Fully and completely.”
My heartbeat stopped and started again, this time twice as fast. His thumb brushed my jaw slowly and purposefully, as if he meant every single touch.
“And don’t think,” he continued, eyes still burning into mine, “that I didn’t want to rip my brother’s throat out for making you laugh.”
My breath hitched. There it was.
The truth. The thing he couldn’t hide.
Jealousy. Possession. Desire.
“So you were jealous?” I breathed. Why is that turning me on?
His jaw clenched. “Ilana.”
“Yes?” I challenged, heart hammering.
“Stop talking.”
“Make me.”
That was it.
He lunged the last inch.
His mouth crashed into mine at once, and there was nothing gentle about it.
He was clearly hungry for me as his tongue probed inside my mouth, deep and claiming, the kind of kiss that stole breath and sanity in the same instant.
His hand tightened at my waist, pulling me flush against his body, heat rolling off of him like fire.
I gasped loudly, but he swallowed it. Every single sound.
One second, I was standing, and the very next, I was melting into him, fingers fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer because there was no universe where distance made sense anymore.
I had stayed away from him long enough. He kissed me like he had been holding himself back for days. Weeks. Maybe his whole life.
The walls pressed cold against my back as his body pressed hot against my front. My mind went blank as my pulse rioted and everything inside me burned.
And Avgust only kissed me deeper.