Page 153 of Bratva Menace

Illayana waited patiently on the front porch for me, no sense of urgency from her at all. She was letting me take my time. Gather my strength. Psych myself up. Which I fucking needed.

“Here we go.” I cleared my throat, gripped my scrapbook tighter, and exited the car. Each step I took up to the house felt monumental. Felt like a step in the right direction. Like I was right where I needed to be.

Illayana gave me a warm smile, encouragement in her eyes. She inclined her head to the two soldiers standing guard before opening the door and leading me inside.

Light greeted me when I stepped into the foyer, followed by an aroma of smells that had my stomach rumbling. I’d always thought it was a very lovely home. Warm and inviting with a nice, cosy feel. There were little things here and there that personalized it. Made it feel like a real home instead of just a house people lived in. It was the picture frames on the walls. The knick-knacks on the shelves that didn’t really fit in with the aesthetic, but you knew held great sentimental value. The scratches and dents in the walls from god knew what. It all contributed, adding character.

Despite the nervousness fluttering through my body, the homely aura instantly helped to relax me, taking some of the tension out of my spine.

I can do this. I can do this.

“This way.” Illayana led me out of the foyer and down the hall on the left, opposite the winding, circular staircase. Loud voices and laughter hit my ears. Illayana didn’t slow her stride, marching right up to a large, formal dining area.

“Sorry I’m late,” she announced, walking in. “I had to pick up a friend.”

Friend?

I followed her in, and the room went from a buzz of activity to dead fucking silence at the drop of a hat. Sitting at a large mahogany table that was overflowing with an array of different foods was…fuck…everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

Papa D and The Crimson-motherfucking-Death were at the head of the table, sitting side by side. Aleksandr and Drea were on one side, their faces mirrored in shock, forks frozen in the air an inch away from their mouths as they stared at me. Nikolai, Tatiana, and two freaking babies were on the other side. Their eyes were as wide as saucers. Illayana’s husband was beside one of the babies, holding a bottle to the little one’s mouth. He was the only one who didn’t seem remotely surprised by my presence, a slight smirk on his lips.

Where is Lukyan?

I cleared my throat, standing a little taller under their scrutiny. I might have been nervous as hell, but I would be damned if I let it show. The silence was deafening, and everyone was fucking staring at me like they couldn’t believe I was standing right in front of them.

Hello, awkward city.

My eyes ran from person to person, and my nerves shot right back up, almost fucking crippling me.

This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. This was⁠—

Dimitri stood. My eyes snapped to him. Our gazes locked.

A memory came barreling into my head. A memory from my childhood. Of a giant, terrifying man coming into my bedroom in the dead of night. Despite the fact that he was covered in blood, his face was soft, kind, as he looked down at me cowering in my closet—the closet my father locked me in as punishment.

He crouched until he was at my eye level and offered me his hand.

I didn’t know him. Had never seen him before. But my soul told me I could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt me.

And I had been right.

He’d taken me from that house. From that hell. And although the orphanage he’d dropped me off at wasn’t the best, it was way better than my home.

Dimitri and I stared at each other for a moment longer before he slowly moved out from behind the table, hobbling with each step. Autumn immediately got to her feet to follow him, but he waved her off, and she sat back down, however reluctantly.

I involuntarily clutched the scrapbook in my hands tighter to my chest, as if it could somehow protect me. Why, I wasn’t sure. I was never one to get scared. I did the fucking scaring. But the uncertainty of everything kept me frozen on the spot, unable to move. Unable to breathe. Unable to do anything except watch the Bratva Butcher get closer and closer.

The Volkov siblings and their partners watched his every step as he came toward me, the tension building and building, smothering the air.

I had no idea what he was about to do. Would he kill me? Cuss me out? Tell me to stay away from his son? After all, I was, in part, responsible for what happened to him. I helped Lev gather the information on him, which resulted in him catching a bullet to the chest. Not to mention the fact that I had kidnapped his son. Everyone knew that man did not fuck around when it came to his children.

He probably wanted to straight-up murder me.

He stopped in front of me. We stared at each other for a moment, and then his arms wrapped around me, and he embraced me in a hug. I stiffened, sucking in a shocked breath, my eyes widening.

What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck?