Page 23 of Bratva Menace

I put on my most dazzling smile and faced my father.

“Tomorrow is the last day before we leave for Russia. You’re not to leave the house. Understood?”

I nodded. “Understood.” I turned. Froze. Turned back. “Wait, why?”

Father stared at me for a beat. “Your stalker.” The duh was implied.

Keep. Cool.

“What about her?”

His lips thinned with displeasure. I could tell he didn’t like how blasé I was being about the whole thing.

“Every attempt to locate her or learn more about her identity has failed. I do not blame you. Her ability to break in and out of our home shows how skilled and cunning she is. But without that information, we cannot accurately anticipate her movements. Only assume. She’s a wild card, and we have no idea what she will do in the lead-up to your wedding.”

“Are you afraid she’ll kidnap me?” I joked.

“Yes,” he responded with a straight face.

A sliver of excitement cut through me at the mere idea of it. I highly doubted she would do something like that, though. Or that she would even be capable of pulling something like that off. She was crazy, but I didn’t think she was that crazy.

Still, the idea was…tantalizing.

I walked back toward the exit with a smirk dancing on my lips. “If she did, I’m pretty sure I would like it.”

“That’s what we’re afraid of!” someone yelled as I bolted from the kitchen.

CHAPTER SIX

LYLA

This is crazy. I’m crazy. Seriously. Cuff me, take me to the loony bin, and throw away the damn key because only someone completely and utterly out of their mind would do something this idiotic.

I’d done a lot of stupid shit in my life. I was the type of person who liked doing dangerous and reckless shit. It fueled me. Made life worth living, in my opinion. Death-defying stunts were kinda my forte. I was an adrenaline junkie at heart. Anything that got my heart rate up, my blood pumping, I was down for.

Bonus points if it could make my pussy tingle too.

But this?

This would go down in history as the stupidest thing I’d ever done… times a billion.

I was lying flat on my back, flicking through the numerous security feeds I had throughout the Volkov household as I tracked Lukyan moving from the kitchen to the stairs. Darkness surrounded me, the only light coming from the illumination of my phone screen.

It had taken all of my strength, all of my willpower not to burst into that kitchen and shoot everyone in the head for making my poor Lukyan so upset.

How could no one see how much their words and lack of faith hurt him? Were they all so accustomed to treating him that way that they were just blind to it?

I could see it, though, as clear as the night sky. That light he always had in his eyes had dimmed just the slightest bit, and I wanted to murder them all.

I could kill them and not lose an ounce of sleep over it.

But I was well aware of how much he loved his family, and I was incapable of causing him such harm and heartbreak.

For the moment.

If it continued, though, I would take matters into my own hands regardless of the consequences.

No one hurt my Lukyan and lived to talk about it.