Page 36 of Bratva Prince

Dimitri stared out the window.The Volkov estate appeared in the distance as the SUV approached the gates.Warm lights glowed from the mansion.

Home.Yet lately, whenever he thought of home, he no longer pictured the estate itself.He pictured a stubborn Italian woman arguing with him over breakfast, rolling her eyes at his security protocols, and ignoring his instructions.She would save his life again though if a situation arose, and she was capable of making him laugh.

The gates opened, and the SUV rolled forward.For the first time since Sofia’s attack, Dimitri allowed himself to believe the danger might finally be over.He intended to enjoy that feeling while it lasted.

****

Six months ago, Sofiawould have laughed if someone told her she’d voluntarily be standing in the Volkov estate kitchen.The idea of doing something domestic for Dimitri Volkov would have sounded completely absurd.

Yet here she was, standing beside a large wooden counter with flour on her sleeve and a recipe card propped up against a bowl.

The kitchen staff had been thoroughly confused when she’d appeared that morning.The housekeeper most of all.

“Mrs.Volkov?”the older woman had repeated carefully.

“Yes?”

“You wish to use the kitchen?”

Sofia had nodded.“Alone,” she said.

The housekeeper had looked mildly alarmed by the request, primarily because nobody in the family ever used the kitchen.

The Volkovs employed people specifically for that purpose, but after a few moments of watching Sofia, the woman had smiled knowingly.

“Of course.”

Then she’d herded the remaining staff out of the room.Now, nearly two hours later, Sofia was beginning to understand why most wealthy people hired chefs.

Cooking was exhausting, especially when she was attempting to recreate a dish she’d never actually made before.She wiped her hands on a towel and looked down at the pot simmering on the stove.

The aroma filling the kitchen was rich and comforting.According to Elena, one of the longtime kitchen staff, it was a dish Dimitri’s mother had prepared often when her sons were young.

It was simple and traditional, the kind of meal that reminded people of home.When Sofia had heard that, she’d immediately decided to learn it.She didn’t do it to impress him.

The truth was slightly more embarrassing.Six months had changed a great many things, including her.A movement near the doorway pulled her from her thoughts.The housekeeper appeared.

“He’ll be home soon.”

Sofia immediately pretended she wasn’t suddenly nervous.

“Good,” she said.

The older woman smiled knowingly, then disappeared again.Sofia narrowed her eyes at the door.Everyone in this house was becoming impossible, including herself.

Six months ago she would have never spent an entire morning worrying whether Dimitri would enjoy lunch.Now she was checking the seasoning for the third time.Pathetic.The realization made her roll her eyes.Yet she checked it again anyway.

****

Outside, tires crunchedagainst the driveway.Sofia glanced toward the kitchen window.A familiar black SUV rolled through the gates.Her heartbeat betrayed her immediately.

It was ridiculous.She saw him every day, and yet, the reaction never seemed to disappear.A few minutes later, footsteps echoed through the hallway.

Voices followed.She caught bits and pieces of the conversation regarding security updates and business discussions.The usual.Then the kitchen door opened, and Dimitri stepped inside.

The difference between the man who’d left that morning and the one who returned was immediately obvious.Dimitri had loosened his tie, and his jacket hung open.A faint crease sat between his brows.

Whatever meeting he’d attended had clearly tested his patience.For a moment he didn’t notice her.His attention remained on his phone.