Bratva Prince (Bratva Series Book 2)

This was weird. Nice, but weird. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not a hugger. The only reason I wasn’t fighting it was because my head was nestled between her breasts and it was…comforting.

I had no idea what came over me. One minute, we were hot and heavy, ready to rid ourselves of this intense sexual attraction burning between us. The next thing I knew, I was pouring out all my demons, everything I’d kept locked up inside since that horrible night. The unbearable, overwhelming guilt I felt every time I thought of my mother.

It was like the floodgates had been opened, and I couldn’t stop until I’d gotten everything out.

Drea was freakishly easy to talk to. There was no judgement or criticism in her eyes, no pity. Just understanding and compassion.

I was more than aware of the fact that I hadn’t dealt with the issues of my past. Like my father, I was an expert at compartmentalising. Thinking about my mother brought me nothing but pain, sadness and anguish. So I stopped thinking about her. If even the slightest thought about her managed to worm its way into my mind, I shut it down instantly.

Somehow, the conversation between Drea and I had morphed into one I’d spent a decade avoiding. But now I felt…lighter, like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. My soul.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Drea murmured into my hair, her hands running up and down my back soothingly. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

I hummed, burrowing my head deeper into her chest. “It was harder for my father. He lost his wife.”

“But you lost your mother.” She sifted her fingers through my hair and I groaned, goosebumps rising on my skin.

I was a sucker for head scratches.

“Something I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for. Not really.”

Drea pulled back slightly, looking down at me with a frown on her face. “Surely he didn’t blame you for what happened, right?”

I snorted. “He didn’t speak to me for years after she died. While he was off exacting his revenge on the Voznesensky family and tracking down all the men that had raped my mother, he would call from time to time to check in on my siblings. Never said a word to me. Refused to talk to me altogether, actually. Would only talk with Illayana, Lukyan, Nikolai and our housekeeper, Flora. When Mikhail, one of my father’s closest friends, managed to drag him back home after he was finished with his rampage, he’d worked through most of his anger. But he never treated me the same.”

Sympathy burned in Drea’s eyes, but thankfully no pity. I didn’t want her pity.

I blew out an exhausted breath, leaning my head back to rest on the back of the couch. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” The topic was emotionally draining, and I was done with it.

I curled my fingers around Drea’s hips, gripping her tightly. Drea moaned, swivelling and grinding her pussy into my cock. She was easily excitable, and I was glad for it.

I leaned forward, running my head up the valley of her breasts, my lips grazing the soft, smooth skin of her neck. “Tell me about you.”

“What,” she licked her lips, breathing hard. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

She chuckled softly. “Okay. Well, I’m a Gemini. I like fast cars and grilled cheese sandwiches. I think aliens are real and that they’ve been to Earth before. Not like, kidnapping people, but just keeping an eye on us, you know? I love dogs, but cats freak me out. You never know what those little bastards are thinking. They’ll either cuddle you or cut you. Christmas is my favourite time of the year. And I think coffee tastes like a horse’s ass.”

I blinked, momentarily stunned by the random bits of information she just told me. This woman continued to surprise me at every turn.

I wanted something more though, something deeper. Those were all superficial details, nothing personal. I wanted something important and significant to her.

“I think the Bermuda Triangle is a hoax,” Drea continued, her lips pursed in thought. “My secret guilty pleasure is sneaking ice cream at three in the morning and pretending it was only a dream. I don’t know how to ride a bike, and—”

I placed a finger over her lips, stopping her from saying another word. “As much as I enjoy these random little insights into your crazy, chaotic mind, I want something real.”

She stiffened slightly, an uncomfortable look in her eyes. “Real?” she mumbled around my finger.

“Yes.” I moved my hand, placing it over her heart. “Something from here.”

Her brows wrinkled. It looked as though she was going to refuse, but then she shook her head and blew out a small, exasperated breath. “I don’t want to die lying in a bed, sick and withered. When it’s my time, I want to go down fighting.”

I frowned, the idea of her dying making my chest tighten.

“When my dad was diagnosed with cancer, it hit us all very hard. Living the life we do, we don’t expect something like disease to be the thing that takes us out. So it was quite a shock to hear my dad only had a year left to live. My mum jumped into research mode, trying to find anything that could help cure him—or at least prolong his life. Chemo and radiation were the only solution. By the time we found out he was sick, the cancer had spread to every major organ in his body, so cutting it out wasn’t an option.”

I nodded, waiting patiently for her to continue. I could tell by the tense way she held herself this wasn’t easy for her to talk about.

“My dad didn’t want to do the chemo or radiation. To him, the side effects didn’t make what little time it may give him worth it. But my mum convinced him to try it.” Her face dropped in sadness, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “By the end, he was barely recognisable. He’d lost most of his hair. His skin had turned dry and patchy. He could barely move. His ankles had swelled to three times their size. He was too weak to do anything for himself. We would take turns taking care of him. Cleaning him and feeding him. None of that stuff was the hardest part, though. It was that when he looked at me, he didn’t see me. It was like he wasn’t really there anymore. I would stare into his eyes and there would be no awareness, no recognition. They were dull. Lifeless. His body was still there but his mind was gone. The man I knew, who raised me and taught me everything I knew, was gone. The cancer had eaten away at him, leaving only the shell of his body behind.”

I drew small circles into her skin, trying to find the words that might bring her comfort but coming up empty. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like.

“I don’t want that to be me. I don’t want to wither away in a bed, having my loved ones look after me. Having them clean me, change me.” She shook her head adamantly. “I never want to put my children through that. I want them to remember me as strong and beautiful. Not sick and weak.”

“Children? You have kids?”

“No, not yet. But I will someday. And I won’t put them through that.”

The thought of her having children with another man made an uncomfortable feeling creep up my spine. It was a foreign feeling, akin to jealousy.

“My mum never recovered from my dad’s death. They were high school sweethearts. Did literally everything together. She was his right hand woman. She watched his back through all his dealings, supported him in everything he did. When he passed, my mum didn’t know what to do with herself. She latched onto me, trying to help me run the cartel.” She leaned forward and whispered, “by help, I mean take charge.” She laughed softly before continuing. “She meant well, but the truth was I didn’t need her help. I’d been helping my dad with everything since I was a kid and my mum knew that. She just needed something to do to keep her busy, to make her feel useful, since there was nothing she could do to help my dad in the end. I know with me gone right now, she’ll be losing her bloody mind, and my poor brother will be paying the consequences for it.”

“Why would your brother be paying for it?”

“Because it was his stupid idea to take the meeting with Nero. My mother and I were both against it, but he whined and bitched about how I never take his advice and I don’t value him, so I went against my instincts to appease him. And look what happened. My mum will be blaming him for the whole thing and no doubt making him suffer.”

A chuckle rose up in my throat. There was nothing worse than a parental reprimand from your mother. They had a unique way of laying it on thick and making the guilt ten times worse than it needed to be.

“Is it just you and your brother? No other siblings?” I asked. Of course I knew the answer to that question already, but I wanted to hear it from her. I loved listening to her talk, hearing the faint traces of her heritage coating her words. It was like a soothing song, calming to the soul.

“We both know you already know the answer to that,” Drea scoffed, shaking her head. “But I’ll answer it anyway. No. No other siblings. Our births—Juan’s and I’s—were rough. My mum almost died. Once it was all done, the doctors told her she couldn’t have any more children. My parents said they were fine with that, that we were all they needed, but I knew if they had the choice they would have had more. My mum’s been hounding me for grandkids since I turned twenty-five.”

“I know what you mean,” I exhaled. “My mother was the same. She first brought it up when I was twenty-one, telling me to get started early and build a family.”

Drea laughed when I shuddered. “You don’t want kids?”

“Of course I do. I just didn’t want them then. Twenty-one is young to start. There was still so much I had to learn, so much I wanted to see before I even thought about bringing a child into the world.”

“Yeah, I hear that. But then, before you know it, you’re thirty-one years old and afraid you’re going to run out of time.”

I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, studying her closely. “Speaking from experience?”

She shrugged idly. “Maybe. Up until a few years ago, I thought I was on the way towards children. My boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend—and I had been together for a few years. We were living together. Everything was on the right track.”

“What happened?”

“The same thing that always happens,” she blew out, gripping my shoulders. “I walked in on him with another woman and all the hopes and dreams I’d had of building a life with him came crumbling down. I haven’t bothered trying since then. What’s the point?”

Ah. That explained her reaction to Mila then. “Not all men are like that.”

“Yes, I know. But the odds of finding a decent one, one who can handle the world I live in, are slim to none. Daniel was the son of a family friend. He knew about the cartel. I tried being with someone who wasn’t born into the life. Didn’t end well.”

Yes, normal people had a hard time adjusting to this life. It wasn’t impossible, but it was difficult.

Something she’d said earlier zinged through my mind and I studied her closely. “Did you say you don’t know how to ride a bike?”

Her face flushed. “Yeah. I just never had the opportunity to learn. We were dirt poor when I was a kid. Could barely afford food, let alone money to buy a bike. Once my dad got into the cartel, things changed. But by that point it was too late. I was too old. What fifteen-year-old doesn’t know how to ride a bike?” she shook her head. “I always wanted to learn, but the older I got the more embarrassing it was, so I just forgot about it.” She shrugged her shoulders idly like she didn’t care, but I could tell she did. She still wanted to learn.

I filed that information away for later.

We spoke for hours. It amazed me how easy it was. I wasn’t the type of person who shared private thoughts, and yet I felt like there was nothing I couldn’t tell Drea. Nothing I couldn’t talk about.

She ended up falling asleep on my lap, her head resting on my chest. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay but I knew I couldn’t, as much as I wanted to. There was still all that shit with our buildings being burned down that I had to deal with.

I tightened my arms around her and got to my feet. I held her close as I made my way over to the bed and softly lowered her down. She stirred slightly, mumbling, “Juan, fetch me my cape,” before settling down.

It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to laugh. She was so adorable. I covered her with the blanket, taking a moment to just look at her, admire her. I tucked her hair behind her ear and lightly traced the side of her face with my finger before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Spi spokoyno, detka,” Sleep well, baby.

I frowned at how easily the endearment slipped from my lips. I knew I should probably be concerned with how attached I was becoming to her, but I couldn’t find the energy to actually care. When I was with her, I felt warm, light. I didn’t want to lose that. To lose her.

I left her room and headed downstairs. As I walked past the lounge room, I saw that the TV was on, someone sitting on the couch. I checked my watch. 11:30pm. Who was up at this time of the night?

As I got closer, I saw it was Dayton. One foot rested on the coffee table in front of him, his arm hung over his bent knee with the remote in his hand, flicking through different titles on Netflix.

“What are you doing up?” I asked, stopping beside the couch.

He turned to face me. “Can’t sleep.” His gaze flicked to the TV and back nervously. “Do you…do you want to watch something with me?”

I should have said no. I had so much shit to do, it was actually overwhelming to think about. But the look he was giving me right now made it impossible for me to do that. It was like he was silently begging me to join him, for someone to hang out with him.

I exhaled and took a seat in the chair next to the couch.

Dayton visibly perked up. “Cool.” Had no one ever watched a movie with him before? “What do you wanna watch? There are some cool shows on Netflix at the moment. Brooklyn-Nine-Nine, Black Mirror, Vikings Valhalla—”

“Is there something called The 100?”

Dayton frowned slightly. “Yeah I think so. I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard it’s good. Why do you want to watch that?”

“Someone told me I should check it out. Go on, put that on.”

Excitement visible on his face, Dayton searched until he found it and then put it on. I wasn’t sure why he was so excited to have someone sit and watch something with him. Until it started, then it became abundantly clear.

He was the type that liked to talk while the show played. He liked having someone there to bounce theories off and engage him while he watched. He’d ask questions I couldn’t possibly know the answers to, because I’d seen just as much as him. I knew just as much as he did about what was going on.

“Oh shit, who are they?”

“I don’t know, Dayton.”

“Do you think that bald dude is going to kill Octavia?”

“I don’t know, Dayton.”

“I feel like Clarke and Bellamy are gonna get it on. An enemies-to-lovers kinda thing. What do you think?”

It wasn’t until right there, at the moment, that I realised Dayton was lonely. He just wanted company. Someone to talk to.

It didn’t take long for both of us to get into the show. It was actually pretty good. Episodes were forty minutes long and before I knew it, we’d managed to watch nearly the whole first season.

By the time Dayton fell asleep, it was 4:30am. I exhaled a tired breath and turned the TV off, getting to my feet. I stretched my body out, feeling every little kink in my muscles. Staying awake all night probably wasn’t a good idea, but I didn’t regret it.

Dayton was snoring his head off, his cap sitting haphazardly on his head and his mouth wide open with a bit of drool dripping down his chin. The sight made me chuckle.

I removed his cap, sitting it down next to him, and covered him with a throw blanket before I left. Regardless of the fact that I hadn’t gotten any rest, I had work to do.