Page 22 of Bratva Menace

My phone buzzed with another text message.

Unknown: A little to the left.

I turned my head in that direction.

Unknown: A little more.

Unknown: Up a smidgen.

My eyes locked on a light fixture high on the far wall.

Unknown: Hi, my love.

Usually, an endearment like that would have sent me running for the hills. Women knew when we hooked up that it was nothing serious. Just a good time. I made that very clear with every woman I slept with, and always did my best to never lead anyone on. Most got the message and understood. Some hoped, after a little bit of time, that things might change. Feelings might emerge.

They never did⁠—

“Lukyan!”

“Hmm?” My gaze snapped to my older brother. Brows lowered, he asked in a less-than-impressed tone, “Have you been paying attention at all?”

“Of course I have,” I answered, affronted. Even though, technically, my focus might have dropped over the past few minutes.

Fucking sue me.

Aleksandr folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, really? What just happened then?”

“You grunted. Nikolai said something sullen. Illayana bitched and moaned. And Father sat there rubbing his temples like his head was going to explode.”

Father sat up straighter, his hands dropping back down to the table, brows creased in a frown.

“That about cover it?”

Drea released a barking laugh.

Aleksandr scowled at her.

“What?” She chuckled. “He was pretty much dead on the money.”

Aleksandr grunted, and it made Drea burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, Autumn joining in.

Smile on my face, I stood up, stretching out my tired and aching body. “Well, if that’s all, ladies and gentlemen, I shall bid you adieu.”

“A—what?” Illayana frowned.

“It means goodbye in fancy French talk.” I straightened the lapels of my imaginary suit jacket. “I’m sophisticated now.”

Nikolai snorted. “Says who?”

“Whom,” I corrected with a wink.

“Um.” Autumn chuckled. “That’s not right.”

“It’s not?” I shrugged. “Oh, well.” My phone vibrated again. My fingers itched to check it, but I couldn’t. I had to play it cool. If my family knew I was texting my stalker—the stalker I’d been expressly ordered to kill—well…they might have gotten a little angry.

“Gotta run.” I turned to leave when Father’s deep, authoritative voice halted me dead in my tracks.

“Stop.” I refrained from stomping my foot and whining like a toddler. Barely. “Turn.”