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

Chapter 12 - Lev

“Are you fucking stupid?” Mikhail asked. His voice was calm, but Lev felt the fury trembling underneath. “What were you thinking getting married to a woman you met once?”

Lev propped his legs on the mahogany desk in his brother’s office. “I wasn’t. Just went with the flow.”

Mikhail’s brows furrowed. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who married his enemy’s daughter,” Lev said, cocking his brows and waiting for his brother’s reply.

Mikhail’s wife, Mira, was Dostoevsky’s only daughter. The circumstances around their marriage were strange and hilarious. Mira had married Mikhail to spite her father after he arranged for her to marry and older man. Mikhail, on the other hand, planned to use Mira against her father.

Somewhere in between, the two fell in love, and the rest was history. Lev guessed how they met didn’t matter since they were both happy now. He wondered if there were a tiny glimmer of hope the same would be the case for him and Zia.

He’d never really given marriage or growing his own family a thought. He wasn’t Pakhan, so he definitely didn’t need heirs, but now, at the back of his mind, there was this voice whispering to him that there could be more.

He didn’t plan to fall in love with her, but maybe they could just be happy with lusting after each other, maybe have a kid or two. They’d both be contented with just that if Zia was up for it.

She wasn’t, he knew that. But she would be someday; he planned to make her desire him.

Mikhail rubbed his jaw. “Well, I can’t beat that one. Who’s the girl?”

“Her name is Zia Kincaid. She was the assistant manager at the event planning agency,” Lev answered. “And don’t worry about her; I don’t think she can cause us any harm.”

“What you think doesn’t matter. Keep an eye on her for now,” Mikhail ordered. He didn’t sound like a brother talking to a brother right now; he sounded like a Pakhan talking to his second-in-command. “We can’t trust anyone with everything going on.”

“I found out everything I could about her, but I’ll keep an eye on her,” Lev assured his brother.

Lev knew Mikhail was right to have his doubts. Lust and attraction weren’t enough. Trust and loyalty were earned in their world. Trusting the wrong person often resulted in death, something he wasn’t willing to risk. His older brother was finally happy for the first time, and he would never forgive himself if that got destroyed because of him.

Mikhail crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. “I know you will.”

“About the attack,” Lev started, shifting the conversation. “It was Cillian Moore. Looks like the loyal dog has finally started to bite.”

“I should have killed that asshole when I killed Dostoevsky. I knew he would become a problem someday, but I underestimated how soon it would take.” Mikhail pressed a finger to his temple. For someone who’d been home having fun with his family, he looked stressed as fuck.

If looking so fucking screwed came with having kids, Zia and I can skip that part, Lev thought.

“We need to find a way to get him under control,” he said, finally taking his legs down from the table and sitting up.

Mikhail inclined with a nod. “Have you come up with anything so far on how we can keep him under control?”

“The meeting with the other heads of the mafia is coming up soon, and we’ll start there.” After carefully thinking last night, it was the only peaceful way to do it. The second option was finding Cillian and putting an end to him with a bullet. While that was quicker and preferable, it would make them lose allies and start a war.

“I don’t see how that will help us.”

“Cillian made a big move attacking us. He’ll come up with excuses at the meeting as to why he did what he did,” Lev explained. “Whatever excuse he comes up with, I plan to counter it and make him seem like a fool. He’ll feel insulted and try to retaliate, and then I’ll have a reason to end him for good.”

Mikhail put a hand over his mouth. His eyes narrowed a bit and he seemed to have been considering what Lev said very carefully. “And if he doesn’t fall for that?”

“Then I’ll attack, consequences be damned,” Lev said, his chest swelling with rage. “We have a reputation, and the others won’t go against us that easily.’

In fact, letting Cillian get away with his behavior was the most detrimental to Bratva's reputation. Others would think they were becoming weak, no one would fear or respect them, and that would open doors to more attacks from the other rivals.

After a moment of brief silence, Mikhail heaved a sigh and crossed one leg over the other. “I think that is a good plan. Do with Cillian whatever you will; I will step in if and when you need me to.”

Lev’s chest swelled with immense satisfaction. He’d always looked up to Mikhail, always sought his approval. When Mikhail stepped back and let him take the lead of the Bratva, his biggest fear had been to let his brother down. And now that he had Mikhail supporting him, he would do everything not to ruin it. Even if it meant doing the one thing he disliked to do most—being in charge.

“There won’t be a need for you to step in. Just remain here and do whatever it is you’re doing,” he said. “I’ll make sure your enemies are taken care of before your return.”

Mikhail chucked. “I am taking care of my family, Man. You’ll understand it soon enough now that you’re married. If that girl is on our side, you’ll come to love her more than anything else.”

Lev winced at the mention of the word love. “That is never going to happen, Man. I’d rather spend the rest of my life celibate than do what it is you’re doing now.”

“You can’t be too sure,” Mikhail said with a smug smile. “And you won’t know until it hits you. That is how love is.”

“Did you put a hold on your role as Pakhan to become a poet?” Lev asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. How was it that his brother, who enjoyed the company of different women after his heartbreak, his brother who would rather hunt his enemies at night than sleep in, would change so much in a span of years?

No, it didn’t even take years. It happened in the mere weeks he met Mira. Slowly, gradually, until he was fully caught in the web of love.

It was a struggle for Lev to decide if he wanted that for himself or not. Despite the dark circles under his brother’s eyes, he looked happier than Lev had ever seen him all their lives.

At one thought, Lev always dismissed the idea of falling in love. But when he glanced at his brother and remembered Zia, a tiny part of him wanted that, too—the comfort of loving and being loved and the dangerous vulnerability that came with it.

“You should bring her over for dinner,” Mikhail said. “After you’re certain she is not a spy. Mira and I would love to meet her.”

“I will bring her someday.” But Lev would only take his wife to meet his brother and sister-in-law when she was ready to meet them. He’d already taken so much away from her by forcing her into marrying him. Whatever she would do now would be on her terms, as long as she didn’t make choices that would jeopardize her safety.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at Mikhail, who nodded for him to take the call.

Lev took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. It was Konstantin calling him. He wondered if something was wrong since they should’ve been back from shopping already, but there was no time to think as he swiped the green icon and raised the phone to his ear.

“Chief, there’s a problem,” Konstantin said. He was panting the way he usually did when he was angry.

Air stilled in Lev’s lungs. Only one thing— person— mattered to him. “Where is my wife?”

“She’s here with me.”

Lev was finally able to inhale, relived that Zia was safe. “What is it?”

“I took her to the Airbnb, and we ran into someone, her ex-boyfriend. He attacked her.” Konstantin paused for a heartbeat. Lev absolutely hated the suspense. “She’s quite shaken up from it, but she’s not hurt.”

Rage, like never before, flared in Lev’s chest. His jaw clenched, his teeth gritting. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reminded himself to remain calm.

His older brother had taught him that. He was prone to making grievous mistakes if he made decisions when his mind was clouded with rage. “Where is the bastard?” he asked, his voice thicker than he wanted it.

“Knocked out. He’ll wake up in an hour or two.”

“Good. Take Zia home, and I’ll be on my way.”

There was a moment of silence on the line, and then Konstantin asked, “Should I kill the bastard? I can make it painful enough.”

“No.” Lev stretched his fingers, thinking of all the ways he would torture the bastard who not only dared to touch what was his but also managed to scare her like that. “I’ll hunt him myself.”

“Yes, Chief.” Konstantin hung up.

It was only after Lev took the phone away from his ear that he noticed Mikhail’s intense glare at him. His brother’s face was creased with worry. “Is everything alright?”

Rising to his feet, Lev shook his head. “I have something to take care of. I’ll visit you again when next I come.”

Before Mikhail could say anything in reply, Lev had already strode out of the door and to the parking lot where he’d left his car.

He got in the car, turned on the engine, and drove out of Mikhail’s mansion. His mind was heavy with worry for Zia. Konstantin had said she was okay, but he wouldn’t believe it until he saw for himself that she was.

It took him half the time it usually would to drive home. Not caring to turn off the car engine, he opened the door and hurried inside the house. “Zia,” he shouted, first checking the kitchen where he suspected she would be.

Polina was in the kitchen chopping cucumbers when he went in, but Zia wasn’t.

“Have you seen my wife?” he asked.

Polina flinched from how harsh and loud his voice was. He’d never used that tone on her before. “She went upstairs not too long ago. She told me what happened.”

“Right. Thank you.” Sprinting out of the kitchen, he bolted up the stairs and threw the door to the bedroom open. There his wife was, lying on the bed with her back to the door. She didn’t even twist her head or stand up to see him.

His chest tightened, his throat burning with both pity for her and anger for the bastard who had done that to her.

Closing the door behind him, he walked to the bed, whispering her name. “Zia.”

She ignored him.

She wasn’t asleep; he knew that. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her. Lifting her, he turned her over. And what he saw made his eyes prickle. He’d never come so close to crying since his father was murdered, but now, seeing Zia like this brought tears to his eyes.

Her long, thick lashes were wet and matted to her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, her eyes so cloudy that his heart twitched.

He opened his mouth, wanting to ask if she was okay, but he couldn’t. She wasn’t okay; he could see that. But he didn’t know how to comfort her or what words to say. He’d been raised to kill, not to empathize. Born to inflict pain and sorrow, not to be a loving husband.

Still, he had to try. He had to comfort her somehow. He reached for her face and swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Sniffling, she shook her head.

“Do you want me to make him pay for this?” He was asking, but regardless of what her answer would be, he planned to make that asshole pay.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want him to pay. I want him never to do this to another woman. I can’t believe I loved him for so long, and I didn’t know what he was capable of.”

“If you want him dead…”

“No. Don’t kill him; just make him pay,” she pleaded, peering into the depth of his soul.

It pained Lev that she was begging for the life of someone so worthless, the life of someone who’d hurt her and tried to violate her.

He brushed a strand of curly-dark hair from her face and peering into her ocean-blue eyes, he promised, “I’ll make him pay, and he’ll apologize for what he’s done. I promise.”

Zia sniffled as her eyes welled with even more tears. “Thank you.”

He cupped the back of her head and rested her on his chest. His fingers combed through her hair as he said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I should have taken you shopping instead.”

Zia shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault. You can’t always protect me.”

Lev straightened up. He held her shoulders and pushed her back gently. Placing a finger under her jaw, he tilted her face to his. “I told you when we got married that you were mine. I wasn’t bluffing, Zia. You’re mine to protect now.”

And he would protect her, even if it would cost him his life.