Chapter 2 - Ninel
I stepped into the crowded subway and claimed a seat with my back against the window. I nodded politely at the older gentleman beside me, offering a kind smile.
Though my headphones were in, no music played.
I was subtly watching those around me. A few seats down, a man held a small plastic bag in front of him, his knee bouncing, fingers constantly brushing under his nose.
The bag in his hand probably had drugs and he couldn't wait to get off the subway to take a hit.
Then there was the young mother nodding off with a baby in her arms, fighting sleep her body clearly needed.
Using the subway meant that if I got into trouble I'd be a sitting duck. I'd have to fight until the subway doors opened and I could escape. And hopefully by then I wouldn't be too worn out or injured to get away.
Still, something about being out here alone without my usual guards or siblings thrilled me. It was reckless and bold…my own little daredevil arc, and I loved it. Here I wasn't the baby of the family, the one they'd always pamper and worry about. Here, I was just…me.
Besides, I wasn’t unarmed. A blade was strapped in a holster under my dress. If someone tried anything, I might not win, but I’d leave them with something to remember me by.
As early as I could remember Lev and Jaroslav ensured that Mariya and I were trained: in combat fighting, weapons and escaping bondage situations.
They wanted to ensure that we could hold our own until help arrived.
And I was happy for the training since it gave me a level of confidence to do what I was doing now.
I was heading to the other side of Philly to meet Scott, a guy I went to college with and had a major crush on from day one. But back then, I had to focus on school. Education wasn’t a privilege many Bratva princesses were given, so I took it seriously.
After graduation, Scott went abroad. Now he’s back, and we’ve been talking over the phone for a few weeks. This would be our first time seeing each other since he returned, and I was nervous.
Scott was cute in a classic, all-American way: blonde hair, blue eyes, the kind of jock who looked like he belonged on a billboard.
He was normal. And in my world, normal was something I craved.
Just the idea of living freely, without a constant target on your back.
Of being a woman with the right to choose her own life, to marry who she wanted.
Of raising a family without always looking over my shoulder.
Two of my older brothers, Lev and Jaroslav, had kidnapped and forced their wives into marriage. But their wives were lucky. My brothers would never hurt a woman, and somehow, they’d both ended up in love, and happily married.
Still…I didn’t want that for myself.
A forced marriage to someone I didn’t know or love felt barbaric. I hated the idea of being used as leverage in a political play, but I wasn’t naive. I knew it could happen to me.
I liked to believe my brothers would talk to me first. That they’d give me a say. But I’d been raised with one core value above all else: loyalty to my family. If marrying someone helped strengthen our faction, I would do it.
…Even if it made me sick to my core.
Hopefully, Scott and I would hit it off and maybe even start a relationship.
But would my brothers ever accept him as a suitable match?
They’d assess everything, from whether he could give me the kind of luxurious life I was used to, to whether he had the strength, man power and skills to protect me.
Our lifestyle wasn’t for the weak, and if my brothers so much as smelled fear on Scott, he’d be done for.
That’s why there was no way I could tell them where I was going or who I was meeting. First, they’d run a deep background check on him. And even if he passed that, and ticked all their ridiculous boxes, they’d still want to meet him.
Maybe Avit and Pyotr would give him a fair chance, but Marten, Jaroslav, and Lev? Not a chance.
Lev’s the head of our faction, Jaroslav is his underboss, and rarely smiles unless it’s absolutely necessary.
And then there’s Marten…bald, muscular, and built like a biker.
No way would they sit across from Scott without grilling him to the point of no return. He’d probably block me before dessert.
So, I did what I’d gotten good at since I was twelve…sneaking away.
Mariya was busy running the Hearth, and my brothers were all busy taking care of Bratva business. I told them I might go shopping today, which they all knew could mean hours in just one store. That would buy me enough time.
Scott and I were meeting at an art gallery first, then grabbing lunch. I’ve always loved art. It was something I shared with my mother before she and my father were killed. I was just eleven when it happened, but even twelve years later, the pain still hit like it was yesterday.
When the subway jerked to a stop, I stood, smoothing my coat, and stepped off as others shuffled on. The art gallery was just a block away.
A few minutes later, I pushed open the gallery door and was greeted by a waitress with a warm smile.
“Welcome. Can I offer you a glass of champagne?” she asked politely.
“Thank you.” I took the glass and stepped deeper into the gallery, already buzzing with a modest crowd.
I wandered through the space, eyes scanning for Scott, hoping he had arrived before me. When I didn’t spot him, I let myself admire the artwork, each brushstroke revealing the talent of its creator.
Still, I kept glancing at the time.
After an hour and a few unanswered calls, I sighed. The sting of disappointment settled in. I really thought we had something, at least enough for him to show up. I guess I was wrong.
Leaving the gallery, I had my phone in hand, typing out a quick message to Scott to let him know I was heading out.
I was tempted to let him have it for standing me up, and then block his number for good, but I’d learned a thing or two from my brothers’ mess-ups with their wives.
Until we talked face to face, I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
I had just slipped my phone into my handbag when I turned the corner, and bumped into someone.
“I'm so sor…”
“Ninel?”
My eyes snapped up.
Artyom.
Crap.
“Hey, Artyom.” I smiled, trying to play it cool.
He looked around, scanning behind me, and his brows drew together.
“Are Vera and the others with you?” he asked.
“No.”
“And I’m not seeing any guards. Are you here alone?”
I nodded. God, is he going to call Lev and rat me out?
“Yes.”
Artyom folded his arms and raised a brow. “Why?”
As if having five biological brothers wasn’t enough, once the war between our factions were over, and Artyom had come to terms with the fact that his sisters were married to my brothers, I somehow ended up with three more overprotective watchdogs.
I folded my arms to match his stance. “Because I’m an adult, and I decided to get away for a bit. The gallery down the street had an event showcasing new pieces, so I checked it out.”
“Ninel, you can’t be running around alone. You know this.” His tone disapproving.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not saying you can’t,” he countered, “but one of you against ten men with guns isn’t exactly fair odds.”
Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. But, I wasn't going to tell him he was right.
“Are you going to tell my brothers?”
If he was, I might as well enjoy the rest of my time out before the storm rolled in.
Artyom ran a hand through his thick, dark brown hair, his grey eyes sharpening. For the first time, I really noticed how handsome he was, reminding me of a young Brad Pitt. His jawline was clean-shaven, and the tattoo of a wolf pack snaked down his neck, disappearing into his black shirt.
His voice pulled me back to the present. “I’m not going to say anything. But I’m not leaving you here, either. I was in the area for a meeting and I’m heading home now. I’ll give you a lift.”
“Sure.”
We walked back to where Artyom had parked in a paid lot. He opened the door for me, and I slipped inside. After I buckled up, he got in and started the car, pulling out onto the street.
“If there’s anywhere else you want to go, and you don’t want your brothers to know, I’d be happy to look out for you,” he said.
I turned to him. “Why would you do that?”
He let out a low sigh. “Because, as you probably guessed, I was an overbearing brother.”
“Was?” I smirked.
Artyom chuckled, and it vibrated through me.
What the hell was that?
“Fine. I am an overbearing brother,” he admitted. “But I think about how Kira and Vera used to sneak out to see Katya. They had your brothers to cover for them, to protect them. The fact that you’re out here alone tells me you don’t have that kind of backup. I’d like to be that for you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you're okay with me sneaking out from home?”
He glanced at me before focusing on the road. “I’m not okay with it. But if I can be a buffer between you and whatever’s out there, I’m fine being that guy.”
I’d seen Artyom go from a monster to something more human. The change had been gradual. Vera once said he used to be a doting brother to Yegor and Zahkar, until life hardened him under being a Bratva leader. She was happy he was returning to the version she remembered.
At first, after the peace treaty was signed, all of us Safin siblings stayed on alert. But over time, we saw the difference in him. I’ve always believed people deserved second chances. My brothers sure needed theirs with their wives and they've become better men because of it.
“Thank you,” I said, offering a small smile. “It means a lot.”
He pulled his phone from the center console and handed it to me.
“Type in your number. Then call your phone so you’ll have mine.”
I smirked. “You’re not afraid I’ll go through your phone?”
“If you see any messages or calls, it’s Bratva business.
Your brothers have been teaching you and Mariya about that for years.
I’ve got nothing to hide.” He paused, then flashed me a smile that made my heart flutter.
“Although…there is that one picture I took right after stepping out of the shower this morning…”
A completely inappropriate image of Artyom flashed in my mind…water dripping down his muscular arms and chest, a towel slung low on his hips.
My cheeks burned.
Ninel, he's practically your brother-in-law, he's family!
Then something dawned on me. I gave him a suspicious side-eye, doing my best to shove the thought away.
“Did Lev put you up to this? Spying on me? You just happened to be in the same place I was?”
He stopped at a red light and turned to look at me. “Is it so hard to believe I bumped into you? I have meetings all over Philly, and the country.”
Then he lifted a brow. “Does Lev usually spy on you?”
“Well, no…”
He nodded once. “Lev didn’t send me. But I’m glad I ran into you. If something happened to you...your sisters would be crushed, more than anyone.”
I knew he wasn’t lying. Growing up Bratva meant Mariya and I didn’t have many close friendships. That changed when Lev married Katya, who we clicked with instantly. And through Katya came Vera and Kira, Artyom’s sisters. Together, we’d built a tight-knit circle that meant everything to us.
“I know. It’s just…sometimes I need to breathe. To get away from being Bratva,” I said quietly.
“What’s wrong with being Bratva? We take care of our women.”
I scoffed. “Most Bratva men want wives to bear them children and keep quiet. And they mistreat them. Vera and Katya lucked out, they got men who actually love them. I just…I hope I’ll be that lucky too.”
Artyom didn’t respond. Not that I expected him to understand since he was a Bratva man and leader.
I punched in my number into his phone, and called myself so I’d have his saved. When my phone rang, I ended the call and placed his back in the center console.
About forty minutes later, Artyom slowed in front of the Safin family mansion where I lived.
“I guess this is your stop,” he smiled.
“I guess it is. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I slipped out of the car, and without another word, Artyom pulled away. I stood there for a second, watching his car disappear.
As I made my way through the gates, my thoughts stayed tangled in him. That voice, that half-smile, those grey eyes…
I sighed and pulled out my phone again and tried calling Scott to distract myself from the weird feeling Artyom had left in me.