Page 67 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

Passing.

Nothing important.

By the time Ashley finally slows down, her excitement tapering into sleepy rambling, I’m already drifting.

“Okay, I should sleep,” she mumbles eventually. “We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say softly. “Goodnight, Ash.”

“Goodnight, Sofi.”

The call ends.

My phone slips from my hand onto the bed.

And this time, when I close my eyes, sleep comes easily.

Chapter 8 – Lukyan

Sofia’s belongings arrive at the estate the next afternoon.

I’m on the balcony outside my bedroom, sipping vodka straight from the bottle, when the truck pulls through the gates.

I wasn’t waiting for it.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

The vehicle rolls to a stop in front of the house, and a moment later, the front doors open.

Sofia practically appears out of nowhere.

I find myself watching.

She hurries down the steps before the driver has even finished parking. From this distance, I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I can see the excitement written all over her. It changes her completely. The guarded expression she’s worn since the wedding disappears, replaced by something younger and brighter.

She looks genuinely happy.

The movers begin unloading boxes and luggage.

There are several suitcases.

A few storage containers.

Enough possessions to suggest she actually lived somewhere before being dropped into my life.

Sofia barely glances at any of it.

Instead, she heads directly for one particular box.

My eyes narrow.

Interesting.

The movers are still unloading when she crouches beside it and opens it.

Even from here, I know immediately what’s inside.

Books.