A Treacherous Killer-Dark Bratva Romance

one

Nadia

Moscow used to bring me such great comfort, now the familiarity only brings heartache. What was once a place where I felt safe and guarded, now fills me with emptiness and dread.

I sigh as we pass through heavy midafternoon traffic on our way back to my family's home. Simon is sitting in the passengers seat, elbow resting on the windowsill as he speaks on the phone with our father.

He glances back at me in the rearview mirror in intervals. I suppose he was checking to make sure I don't attempt to open the door and roll out into the middle of oncoming traffic. Not that I would be stupid enough to do that, but Simon's anxious thoughts are evident on his face every time he looks at me or speaks to me.

I suppose I should be thankful that I have him. Maybe it's a twin thing, but sometimes I think Simon and I share each other's pain. I remember the night I thought I was going to lose him. He had taken a bullet to the chest and I could feel the stabbing sensation of the foreign metal in my chest as though I had been shot too.

Simon's never been the coddling type, but he had also never seen the dark place my mind had been buried in for the past month. He had wanted to get me away from the city, where the suffocating memories of that fateful night threatened to pull me under.

We had vacationed in Tuscany for the past couple of weeks, renting an Airbnb and spending our days sipping wine and filling ourselves full of pasta. I found myself most at peace being tipsy with my toes buried in the sand.

I was able to pretend that I hadn't lost the person that I had once dreamed of spending the rest of my life with. I was able to pretend that I hadn't witnessed a bullet ripping through his chest or the blood that had soaked my hands as I held him.

No, in Tuscany there was no mafia, no bloodshed and murder. There was just me, existing as if I had been born into a different life.

"You ready to go in?" Simon's voice cuts through my thoughts and I look up to find him turned around in his seat staring at me with concern etched between his brows.

I hadn't even noticed that we were sitting in the driveway until I look up to find the familiar two story colonial I call home.

"Yeah," I sigh. I hadn't been ready to return home just yet. I needed at least another week of peace before returning back to reality but Simon had become a full fledged solider of the Bratva and Caine needed him back.

I drag myself from the backseat, my bones already feeling heavy under the weight of being back home.

Yarina, our housekeeper, is standing in the doorway awaiting our arrival. She embraces me as I walk up the stone steps. I breathe in her familiar scent of flowers and the faint scent of flour and vanilla from her baking. She had no doubt prepared a feast for our return home.

Yarina had been apart of our family since Simon and I were children. Father was always away on business and mother was always on bed rest recovering from her frequent seizures or trying to impress the elite at social events. Simon and I had spent most of our time with Yarina. She read us bedtime stories, made sure we took our vitamins and chased us around the yard when we'd misbehaved.

It was her that brushed my hair from my face and sang me old Russian folk songs after Alexei died.

"Moy krasivyy tsvetok!" My beautiful flower! She kisses both my cheeks before releasing me and grabbing Simon. He tries to side step her but she's fast for an old woman. She grabs his face and pulls him down to match her short stature before peppering him with kisses too.

"Come. I have cooked your favorites!" She darts off towards the kitchen expecting us to follow her. Simon shrugs, never missing an opportunity to stuff his face, I follow closely behind him.

What I really want is a nice hot bath with my favorite scented bath salts and a fat glass of wine, but I give Yarina a small smile as I take in the array of food she prepared. Ptichye Moloko for me and Medovik for Simon. He wastes no time digging in, almost pinching a bite off the cake with his fingers but Yarina slaps his hand and retrieves him a plate.

She cuts me a slice of the Ptichye Moloko and I take a few small bites to satisfy her but she gives me a knowing look anyway.

"Where's mother?" Simon asks with a mouth full of cake.

"Having lunch with Elmira and Lidiya at the country club." Yarina busies herself with cleaning up her dirty mixing bowls and spoons.

This rewards an eye roll from me. It's just like my mother to make plans on the day that her two children are scheduled to return home after being gone a month.

"Father made reservations for dinner at the Chateau tonight." I look up to find both Simon and Yarina's eyes on me.

"What?" I snap in annoyance.

Simon straightens and clears his throat. "Will you be alright to go out?" He asks. I huff out a breathe of frustration.

"Yes Simon, I will be fine," I say, tossing the plate in the sink a little too harshly.

"Okay then. The driver will pick us up at seven. Be ready." He pushes off the counter and retreats back to the foyer. I hear him grabbing his jacket and the distinctive sound of keys jingling.

"Where you going? We just got home," I question from the doorway.

"Got to go check in with Caine," he says, opening the front door. My mind instantly drifts to thoughts of Maeve. I hadn't talked to her since the day she visited me here almost a month ago. Guilt gnaws at me but I push it away.

"You should call her. I know you don't want to see Caine right now but she misses you." He gives me a grim smile. I don't say anything, my eyes focused on a painting hanging on the wall.

"I will." Is all I simply say. Simon gives me a brief nod before closing the door.

I know I shouldn't harbor hate for Caine. He didn't intend for the shot he fired to be the one that ended Alexei's life, but the wound is still so fresh. I'm not yet ready to face him because I know that when I do, the thin protective bubble I'm encased in could possibly burst and all the emotions that I've bottled up will come bursting out.

I shouldn't ignore Maeve because of my personal issues with Caine at the moment. We've grown to trust each other over the past few months. She was there for me when I needed it the most, even if I hadn't acknowledged it at the time.

I will visit her tomorrow after I've gotten my rest and have a clear head so I can formulate some kind of apology to atone for my treatment of her.

"What don't you rest, moy krasivyy tsvetok," Yarina says, placing her hands on my shoulders and steering me towards the stairs. I don't protest as she pulls my curtains shut and tucks me into bed like a child.