Haunted Bratva Daddy (Wicked Bratva Daddies #11)

The sign said restricted. He let me stay anyway…

That should have been my first warning…

It was the moment I stopped listening to warnings.

He crossed the floor in four strides and stopped inches from my camera.

His hand closed over my wrist before I could lower it.

I forgot how to breathe before he said a word.

Grisha has one rule. Never let anyone close enough to bury.

Twenty years, and he’s never broken it.

I’m here to catalogue the family’s collection. I’m also chasing a name my grandfather buried in a locked notebook: the Keeper.

I am not here to notice him. I do anyway.

But wait.

My grandfather’s secrets and his wife’s murder lead back to the same man — smiling for the cameras in the Sorokin ballroom.

I know too much to walk away clean now.

The way he watches a room like he’s already lost someone in it...

The way he says my name like a debt he’s still deciding whether to collect...

He built that wall to survive losing someone once.

Too bad the Keeper was never done collecting old debts — and neither is Grisha, now that he’s decided I’m his.