Page 4 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

“Because,” he murmurs, “some stories aren’t just stories.”

I don’t understand, but I smile anyway.

Because this is still a game.

And I’m very good at games when Papa is beside me.

My father watches me for a long moment. Not the way he usually does when I answer correctly. This time is different.

Like he’s memorizing me.

Like I might be something he needs to remember very carefully.

“Sofia,” he starts.

I look up immediately. “Yes, Papa?”

He reaches over and turns the page back in the book, smoothing it flat again as if resetting something. “You’re doing very well,” he says.

Pride blooms in my chest again.

I sit up straighter. “Really?”

“Yes.” A pause. “But there’s something more important than finding patterns.”

I tilt my head. “What is it?”

His fingers hover over the page. “Remembering them.”

I nod quickly. “I remember everything you teach me.”

“I know,” he says. He leans closer, tapping a small section of the page. “Memory is what keeps you safe,” he continues. “If you remember correctly, you’ll never be lost.”

I frown. “Lost?”

He smiles faintly. “People get lost in stories when they stop paying attention.”

That sounds serious, so I focus harder. “I won’t get lost,” I say.

“I know you won’t,” he repeats. His hand lingers on the book a moment longer than necessary before he finally leans back. “Good girl.”

I like that.

I go back to circling words again, carefully, seriously, like it matters more than anything else in the world. The pencil scratches softly across the page.

Papa begins asking me questions again.

“Why do you think that word repeats?”

“Because it matters.”

“And what does repetition mean?”

“That it’s important.”

“Good. And what do you do when something is important?”

I think hard. “I remember it.”