Forced to Marry the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #2)

Chapter 8 - Lev

Lev’s cock thickened in his pants as he kissed Zia. She was delicious, and her soft scent was more sensual and intoxicating than any alcohol he’d ever had.

Just kissing her brought back memories of last night. Memories of her clenching around him while he laid his claim on her. He’d not suspected that she was untouched, but when she gasped out in pain and he felt how tight she was, he wished he’d restrained a little bit more. He didn’t regret it, though; She was bound to be his either way.

She stopped kissing him back and backed away from him. Red bubbled on her cheeks as she panted like a rabid animal on heat. She could fight it all she wanted, but he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Her moans, clenching and melting from last night, couldn’t be faked. She liked him more than she would admit to herself for now. But with time, she would realize she couldn’t fight him—she would have to give into the dark desires lurking beneath her surface.

And he would wait until she was ready.

“We’re married now, aren’t we?” Her breast heaved as she drew in a breath. “I’m exhausted. I’d like to go to my room now.”

“I’ll ask Polina to prepare something for you to eat,” he offered. She hadn’t taken another bite out of her food since he told her about their marriage this morning. It was evening already, and she hadn’t asked for anything to eat yet.

She narrowed her eyes on him. If looks could kill, he’d be dead already. “Is that you pretending to be nice?”

“You’re my wife. It’s only normal that I try my very best to keep you alive,” he said, amused at how she was ready to pick up a fight with him whenever he spoke to her. She was feisty, adorably so.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she scoffed. “If you wanted to keep me alive, you would have let me go.”

“Letting you go would mean letting you get hurt. I will not repeat myself again.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was only half the truth. He was so drawn to her when they met at the club that the idea of making her his fascinated him.

The attack and keeping her safe only made his desires valid because truth be told, he wouldn’t have cared if it were anyone else but her.

“We need to straighten things out. I need to know your expectations so I can cut them short,” she said firmly. “Don’t expect me to play the role of Lev’s little wife.”

She turned around to leave with collided with Konstantin.

Both their eyes widened as they backed away from each other. Zia hadn’t noticed Konstantin walk up behind her, and he hadn’t expected the woman he disliked the most to walk straight into him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know you were behind me.”

Lev smiled at how she seemed to be nice and polite with everyone else who wasn’t him. It was not hatred he smelled on her when she was close; it was rage and something darker: lust.

She lowered her head and walked away before Konstantin could muster a reply. His gaze followed her until she disappeared out of the double doors, then he looked at me. “It’s not even an hour since you got married, and you’re already arguing?”

Lev’s lips twitched. “Turns out my shiny new wife is a fighter. She has a mouth that does not go well with her delicate body.”

Konstantin huffed out a sigh as if tired of listening to Lev talk like a lovesick teenage boy. “Your brothers are here.”

That was enough to bring Lev back to his senses. “Which ones?”

“Your younger brothers. The Pakhan somehow heard about the attack and wants to speak with you,” he said.

“Does he know about my marriage?”

Konstantin shook his head. “Not yet. But you’ll have to tell him soon.”

“I will.” He tapped Konstantin’s shoulders and started for the living room. His brothers were so busy running their other businesses that they rarely saw each other unless it was necessary.

But they’d come tonight at such odd timing.

Ivan was the first to notice him enter the living room. His dark-brown eyes crinkled, a smile parting his lips. “You look like a groom tonight,” was the first thing the intuitive asshole said.

Lev slouched on the couch across from his brothers. It’d been oddly busy the last couple of days, and he was exhausted. He needed a shower and a long night’s sleep. Tomorrow, he could catch up with his wife and get to know her better.

Adrian looked at the golden band around his brother’s finger. “I don’t think he looks like a groom.” His eyes met Lev’s. “I think he actually got married.”

Ivan looked at the ring, then gaped at Lev. “Did you really get married without us?”

Lev waved his brothers off. “Don’t be dramatic. It happened too fast for me to tell or invite anyone.”

“You had enough time to call the priest; you should have told us as well,” Ivan said.

“Does Mikhail know about this marriage?” Adrian asked, looking concerned. He was the most sensitive one out of all four brothers. Quick to observe and even quicker to use his brain, yet slow to speak.

He only spoke freely around his brothers. To everyone else, he was mysterious.

Ivan was the opposite. He had a brain the size of peanuts and would crack jokes standing on a corpse. He was pretty quick with a knife and a gun, though, and he was ruthless when he needed to be.

Lev was a perfect blend of both personalities, and Mikhail… Well, Mikhail was everything a Pakhan needed to be. Grumpy, cunning, and ruthless. He wouldn’t have been able to beat Dostoevsky otherwise.

“Not yet,” Lev answered. He walked to the glass minibar in the corner of the living room and selected a bourbon from the different brands of alcohol on display. He took a shot glass and returned to his seat. “I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“He’ll kill you when he finds out,” Ivan said.

“He won’t find out unless you tell him,” Lev returned, narrowing his eyes on his brother. “I’ll kill you if you tell him before I get the chance to.”

Ivan’s lips curled with a smirk. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned back and crossed his legs. “I won’t, although I would love to see how the drama between you two unfolds.”

Lev filled his glass. Taking a sip of the bourbon, he grimaced as the heat trailed down his throat. It wasn’t as bad at whatever Konstantin called that drink last night. This one had the right of heat and bitterness. Something that would help him sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow but keep him alert enough to wake up if something went wrong.

“The only drama you’ll be watching is me teaching you a lesson, Ivan,” Lev said. “What do you two want?”

Adrian lifted his shoulder, and then he let it fall. “We don’t need a reason to see our big brother, do we?”

“Although we found something really interesting,” Ivan joked. “If I were an informant, I’d make a ton of cash selling out this very catchy information. You’re lucky I’m your brother.”

Lev bit back a smile. No matter how angry he was or how he pretended to be annoyed with Ivan, he actually enjoyed his crazy jokes. “Lucky is not the word I would use, Man.”

Ivan’s smile widened. “Deny it all you want; I know you love me more than you’d like to admit.”

Lev shook his head.

“You two are gross,” Adrian said, his face scrunching up. “Back to why we’re here. We wanted to let you know we’re here if you need anything. All you have to do is call.”

Of course, Lev knew that. He and his brothers weren’t the closest siblings on the continent, but they wouldn’t hesitate to lay down their lives for each other if it came down to it. That was how deep their brotherhood ran. Aside from Konstantin, his brothers were the only people he knew he could trust.

“I know, and I’ll call you if I ever need your help,” he said, taking another sip of his bourbon.

Ivan leaned forward and reached for Lev’s glass. He filled it to the brim and lifted it. “How are you going to handle Cillian? That sick asshole won’t stop at attacking the club—he’ll do worse if you let him be.”

But Lev had no intention of letting Cillian be.

Cillian was like a virus, spreading fast enough to kill itself and its host. The only way to stop it—him—was cutting him off before he got a chance to become something much more than he was.

Still, Lev could not act blindly. Starting away without a solid reason would only put him at odds with the other mafia heads. He was not going to jump into action. He’d planned to watch and prepare for any attack before he would strike.

“I haven’t decided how to deal with him,” he answered honestly. “When I do, I want it to hit him where it hurts the most.”

“That fucker doesn’t care about anything else but money and power,” Adrian said. “Killing him is the only way.”

A smile played on Lev’s lips. “You just said it yourself, money and power are all that matters to him. I plan to use that against him.”

His brothers’ eyes flickered with suspicion as they looked at him. They must’ve thought he’d gone crazy. “And how are you going to do that?” Ivan asked.

“He just sealed a business deal with a cartel in Mexico. The shipment enters the country in two weeks.”

Adrian gulped down the rest of his drink and slammed the glass on the table. “You’re planning to steal from him?”

“I’m not a thief,” Lev explained. “It won’t be stealing. Let’s just say I’ll be taking over the shipment. What he did will cost me money, and I plan to get back every dime I’ll spend.”

Admiration shone in Ivan’s eyes. “The Nikolai genes definitely have madness in them.”

“They do. You wouldn’t exist if they didn’t,” Lev teased. He reached out across the table and took his glass from Ivan. “You two will need to leave now.”

A dirty smile flashed on Adrian’s face. “Are you desperate to get a fill of your new wife? You haven’t even introduced her to us.”

“I’m desperate to get some rest. I’m fucking exhausted. I’ll introduce her to you next time—after I tell Mikhail, that is.”

His brothers nodded at the same time and got to their feet. “Happy married life, brother.”

“Thank you.”

After Lev’s brother left, he drank one more shot of the bourbon and went upstairs. He stopped in front of the black door across from his and listened for any sounds from inside. When he opened the door slightly to check on his wife, he found her sleeping.

Her curly brown hair had fallen over her face, and the moonlight streaming in from the open window glinted off her smooth, olive skin. She looked like a painting, so serene and beautiful that he could stand there for a lifetime, just watching herself.

He had no idea how long he stood there, but a chuckle rumbled in his chest when he caught himself smiling. He’d only known this girl for a day, yet she had him wrapped around her fingers.