Page 9 of Her BRATVA Protector
“I’m sorry. It’s just…give me a second.”
I sit across from her and look at my twenty-year-old, trying to figure out how to say this.
“You remember the contract.”
She blinks. “What contract?”
“The one your daddy signed. With the…Russians.”
Her face goes still.
“I thought,” she says slowly, “it wasn’t valid.”
“I was wrong, baby. The contractisvalid. They came today.”
“They…Mama.What do you meanthey cametoday?”
“Well, he came. Just one man. He came this afternoon.”
“And youopened the door?”
I let out a surprised bark of laughter. “I didn’t know who it was.”
“Ma!”
I squeeze her hand. “Baby, listen…”
“Where is he? Is he here? Are we safe? Do we have to leave?”
“He’s gone. He left. Honey, sit.Sit, Jasmine, listen to me. We’re safe. He’s gone. But…”
“But what?”
“He’s coming back.”
She stares at me, eyes wide, mouth agape.
“He’s coming back tonight. He’s…Jas’, baby, he says he’s moving in.”
The string cheese rolls off the table and hits the floor.
“He’swhat?!”
“He says he’s moving in. To protect us. Because the contract is…well, it’s…he says it’s for a Venn but not…not you specifically…”
“What?!”
She sits up so fast that the chair scrapes.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait,wait.”
“Jasmine…”
“It doesn’t saymespecifically?”
“No, baby, it says…”
“It says the marriage has to be between a Venn and a Maksimov.”
