The women keep talking, and it seems they’ve pulled Bash into the conversation as well. He’s just as animated as they talk about…are they talking about the time Roman, Matthias, and I conned our entire middle school class into a Ponzi Scheme? What the fuck?
I open my mouth, ready to put an end to the conversation, when I witness something breathtaking.
Katerina throws her head back and lets out a stunning laugh. My heart stops. It literally skips a beat. I paw at my chest, sure something’s wrong.
I find myself softening, seeing her so calm and happy. I’ve seen perfect, pretty, porcelain doll Katerina. I’ve seen fierce, sassy, sexy Katerina. But I realize I’ve never seen her happy.
I watch her converse for a few more seconds then realize what I’m doing. I scowl at my behavior and turn to my brothers.
They’re both grinning at me.
“What?” I question them harshly.
“It’s okay, big bro. It took us both by surprise,” Roman says cockily. “I’m so glad this turned out well.”
“What took you by surprise?” I grit out, pissed he’s being vague.
“Being in love. Neither of us expected it, but it’s the best thing that ever happened to us,” Matthias cuts in, adding his opinion.
I scoff offendedly.
“I am not in love!” I seethe in a whisper, not wanting Katerina to hear. “This is just business.” I start to add that I could never be attracted to that porcelain doll. It’s what I’ve been telling myself for weeks. But I realize how untrue that statement is. I am attracted to her, and it’s because she’s not a porcelain doll.
“You’ll see,” Roman says ominously. I glare at him, but he just laughs.
“This is just the beginning. It’s going to get so much better.” Matthias laughs too, then turns to Roman. “I bet he’s going to be the worst of us. I bet he’s going to be the craziest one.”
“I’m not like you!” I hiss out. I’m not like them! I’ll never be as psychotic as they were about their wives.
My brothers open their mouths, but I’m done with this conversation.
I grab Katerina’s hand and stand up. She must not be expecting it, because she doesn’t pull away. She just looks at our joint hands questioningly, then raises those scrunched brows to me.
“It’s time to go home.” It actually isn’t. The reception doesn’t have an end time, one of the perks of owning this establishment. But I’m ready to bed my wife.
She follows me without protest. As she slowly stands, I realize how tired she must be. It’s been a long day for her.
As we walk through the crowd towards the back doors, an older Bratva man grabs her wrist. I recognize him as Sergey Petrova. He’s a higher up, close to Viktor.
What the fuck is he doing grabbingmy wife?
“U tebia yest’ odin god s nim, chtoby razrushit’ Sindikat, potom ty budesh’ moey. Esli net, ya ub’yu ego, a potom zaberu tebya,” he spits out at my wife.
Katerina scoffs at him, then clenches her fist. I can see her warring with herself. Does she play sweet and innocent or does she fight back?
“Fuck off, Sergey!” My beautiful wife straightens her back as she bites into him. I couldn’t be prouder of her.
Until this fucker raises his hand as if to hit her.
Without a second thought, I push in front of Katerina, pulling her behind me, effectively breaking his hold on her.
I grab his throat, tightening my grip until no air can get through. He claws at my wrist, but he’s no match for my strength.
“If you ever raise your hand towards my wife again, I’ll end you. There will be no other warning.” It’s not an empty threat. If he, or anyone, touches my wife, they won’t live long enough to regret it.
I drop his worthless ass on the floor, grab my wife’s wrist, and storm out of the fucking party with her dragging along behind me.
We get in the limo, and she tries to speak, but I put up a hand, silencing her.
