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Sophia’s eyes widened, but she didn’t seem surprised. Shaking her head, she muttered, “There’s a suture kit in the kitchen first aid box.”
“Wait—we’re not taking him to an emergency room?” I gaped at them.
Sophia let out a short laugh. “I’m better than any ER doc.”
“I have the bastard’s phone,” Viktor bit out. “Take a look at the pictures he sent, zaika.”
Sophia nodded, taking the clunky cellular device from her brother. She tapped on the screen, and I watched the emotions play over her face. Her eyes went wide, and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Dammit,” she hissed.
There was more furious tapping.
“Can you unsend it?” Viktor pressed, voice low and deadly.
Sophia bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “Best I can do is send a virus to scramble both ends. But there’s a chance it was forwarded or saved and sent elsewhere.”
“Then we go to plan B—” Viktor said firmly, and he lapsed into Russian.
I caught a handful of words. He was trying to be complicated and talk fast. Fisting my hands at my sides, I glared at them both. Whatever they were talking about, I clearly wasn’t privy to. “Hold up just a damn minute the both of you! What the hell is going on?”
“Ah, from the way my brother is bleeding, that cut is deep. But that means his would-be murderer failed and you’re not dead—or worse.”
“Worse?” I choked, my brain choosing to focus on that word.
“Raped. Held as a hostage. Smuggled out of the country to a third world hell for a pleasure den,” Viktor listed as he stalked into the house.
My mouth dried, tongue thick like swollen sandpaper. He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be!
Sophia gave me a piteous smile. “Welcome to the Bratva, Briana.”
Bratva. Pieces of criminal law that I took two years ago flitted through my mind. “Mob?” I rasped.
“Organized crime that isn’t sanctioned by the US government? Yeah.” Sophia nudged her toe into the crushed granite of the drive. “I wanted to tell you. There were so many times. But...it’s my darkest secret. I’m a Bratva princess.”
There it was. That word. A shiver raced over my skin. The driver, Toli, hadn’t been crazy. I cut a look to where Viktor waited by the front door. With lips pressed in a thin line, his hard gaze watched me. Whatever reaction he feared, I didn’t give it. A moment later, he wrenched the front door open and disappeared inside.
Sophia gently grabbed my arm. “With you, my life was so different, Bri. You have to believe me. You were safe without knowing, and I could benormal.”
“I need a drink,” I moaned, swiping my hand over my forehead.
“Viktor probably does too. Let’s go take care of him, and then you and I can drink margaritas by the pool until everything doesn’t seem quite so horrid.”
“I doubt that’s possible,” I muttered, then followed her into the cool interior. The decoration in here wasn’t any less impressive.
Sophia’s bare feet padded down the halls, and we pushed into a sleek, Tuscan-style kitchen. Dark wood dominated the space, and the appliances and counters were black and shining. The ambiance was warm and luxurious. Beams of the same rich, warm wood ran the length of the ceiling with stucco between. Bursts of sage green, burnt orange, and other strong colors only added to the imposing feeling.
Perched on a wrought iron barstool, Viktor was in the process of peeling my torn blouse off his arm. Sophia tsked and rushed forward. Dumping something that smelled strong on her hands, she rubbed them fast.
“Damn, he got you good,” she muttered. “I hope you returned the favor.”
Viktor grunted, sliding a look to me. When he caught me watching, he whispered something in Russian.
Unfortunately for him, I was able to piece that vague phrase together. “You killed the stabber!”
“He got off easy.” The look in Viktor’s eyes dared me to protest. This was the darkness. I knew it was there. It had always followed this gorgeous, infuriating man around. And yet, I’d pushed it aside, made excuses for what I knew was there.... Not that I knew he was in organized crime! Just that he was a dark, dangerous soul. A bad boy.
It was ironic how bad he was.Fuck...that’s probably what draws me to him. He was so far from the cookie-cutter, Ivy League brats I’d grown up with. The oddest part was how calm the knowledge made me. I should be freaking out and trying to call the cops—or the Feds!—but instead, I just kept telling myself this was the same brother and sister I’d known for years. Their secret didn’t change that for me.
“I suppose he did ask for it when he tried to knife you,” I muttered, stepping to Sophia’s side. I grabbed the tube of smelly stuff but couldn’t read the label since it was in Cyrillic. Squirting a generous amount in my hand, I scrubbed them in the same way my friend did.
