Page 32 of The Bratva Sinner

I don’t normally get shot at. I’m the brother nobody cares about, the one who runs clubs and keeps his head down. I usually make problems disappear with money or favors, not bullets.

Damien walks over, his face grim. “I told you.”

“Don’t.”

“I told you this would escalate.” He gestures at my Porsche. “This is just the beginning.”

Fuck.I know he’s right.

“You need to call Sergei,” Damien says. “This is too big for you to handle alone. You need the bratva.”

“No.”

“Maksim…”

“I said no. I can handle this.”

“They just tried to kill you in broad daylight. Next time, they might succeed.”

“I’ll increase security,” I say. “Triple it. Lock down all the properties. But I’m not bringing my brothers into this.”

“Why not? Pride?”

“Because this is my mess.” I meet his eyes. “I pulled her out. I brought her home. I’m not going to ask Sergei to clean it up for me.”

Damien shakes his head. “Your pride is going to get someone killed.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve been shot at.”

Damien sighs. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

I don’t need to say anything. We both know the answer.

9

Lila

I wake up early, like my body has decided I’m caught up on sleep and it’s time to move.

I’ve never been one to sleep in. Every job I’ve had required me to be up really early. I grew up taking care of animals. I was working before I was thirteen. I had to if I wanted to eat. Mama did some waitressing and babysitting, but the jobs never stuck.

I dress quietly and let myself out through the kitchen door.

Nobody stops me. I have the run of the property, and I haven’t stopped thinking about the horses since Maksim showed me yesterday.

The stable manager's name is Gus. He's maybe sixty and looks like someone who has spent a lot of time in the sun.

I step into the stable, breathing in the familiar scent of hay and horse. It’s the first time since everything happened that I feel like I can breathe. This is my element. This is where I belong.

Gus looks up from mucking out a stall and nods a greeting. “Morning.”

“Morning.” I move closer. “Mind if I look around?”

“Maksim said you could go wherever you want.” He leans the pitchfork against the wall. “You know horses?”

“Grew up around them. Worked on a ranch in Texas.”

His weathered face breaks into a smile. “Then you’ll appreciate these beauties. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”