Page 81 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

My bones felt weak, my stomach hollow. I swallowed hard, but it didn’t stop the lump from reforming in my throat or the sheen of tears blurring my vision.

I sank into the water, the temperature so perfect I couldn’t hold back the sigh.

Viktor sat on the edge of the tub.

Misha leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and his head turned slightly to the side.

If I allowed myself to think about that, I’d wonder if he couldn’t bear to look at me.

Leo took his time adjusting the robe on the hook and handing Viktor a bottle of my favorite shampoo.

“Leo.” My voice cracked, and all three men locked onto me. I’d been betrayed by everyone I thought I knew here in New York. The devastation of realizing Elena had only pretended to be my friend caused the bone-deep hurt to flare.

I fought against it and focused on the one thing I could learn for certain. Elena had broken me, but it had still shattered my heart to see her gunned down so ruthlessly.

“What is it, Peyton?” He lowered to his haunches next to the tub, concern tightening his eyes.

I picked up a rag from beside Viktor and dunked it into the water. My thoughts tumbled, and every part of me wanted to curl into a ball and cry until it stopped hurting.

But it wouldn’t stop until I knew the truth. “I have questions.”

“We’ll answer them as soon as you’re done.” Leo brushed his thumbs over my cheeks. “We’re here, Peyton.”

I tried to meet Misha’s eyes, but he kept his head down.

I washed my body, then shampooed and conditioned my hair, washing away the smell of Anton’s grimy warehouse.

When I finished and stood, Viktor dried me off and then Leo wrapped me in a thick, soft robe.

They led the way out of the bathroom and into a dimly lit bedroom.

Misha’s room. I knew by the smell and the lack of decor. He liked leather couches and bare walls, and he smelled like bergamot and oranges. Same as this room.

“Are you Bratva?” I sat on the edge of a chair beneath a wide window that overlooked a garden.

Leo, Viktor, and Misha sat on the edge of the bed in front of me. “Yes.” Leo answered for all of them.

“How…” My voice failed, and I took a second. “How long, and how did it happen?”

Leo did not look away from me as he answered. “My entire life. I was raised to take over for my father.”

Misha rasped his knuckle over his cheek. “They took me when I was ten. After another mob killed my mother. She was the only good thing I had in the whole world. When I lost her, I lost everything.” He finally lifted his head, and the sight of death in his eyes rattled me to my core. “Until you, I had nothing but the brotherhood.”

“I was seven.” Viktor locked his hands together between his knees. “This is our world, Peyton. It is the thing we have always known. It is who we are.”

“How could you have downplayed the danger so drastically that I thought it was nothing? How could you keep this from me?” My breaths shortened, the lack of oxygen sending me forward to put my head between my knees.

Bodies shifted, but I held out a hand to stop them from moving toward me.

A tortured groan sounded from Misha, but it was Leo who answered. Leo because he was the one in charge. “The business you work for, along with several others, is legitimate. We do not let those two worlds cross. The brotherhood forces us to make oaths never to mix the two. Since you work for our legitimate business, you were never supposed to know the rest.”

Viktor leaned past Leo. “But then we worried you were spying on us. There was too much circumstantial evidence that pointed to you leaking information to our enemies. We know now that it was Elena, but at the time, it made sense to bring you here. To protect you as we figured out the truth.”

A shocked gasp stole what little breath I had. “You thought I was spying on you?” I remembered the way they’d asked me about Anton, and it all sent waves of panic through my body.

“We never dreamed Anton would come for you.” Misha’s voice was dry and emotionless. “We kept the relationship completely hidden to protect you.”

I didn’t understand what had happened to make him act this cold and uncaring.