Page 156 of Bratva Menace

“Very logical,” Nikolai said.

“Thank you!”

“Oh, man, look at his face.” Illayana laughed, pointing to Lukyan.

Lukyan’s smirk was only getting wider and wider the longer he looked at my scrapbook.

“He likes it,” Autumn said, shaking her head with amusement.

“Of course he does,” Papa D chimed in.

I was glad he liked it. I put a lot of work into it to make it absolutely perfect.

Light chatter filled the air, and I couldn’t help but smile as conversation bloomed all around me, everyone talking and laughing as they ate. It was such a fun atmosphere—something I never had in my own home growing up. Everyone laughed. Made jokes. Gave each other shit, but in a loving way that you knew was all in good fun. They argued and bickered. Tossed food at one another and jabbed each other in the shoulder when someone said something ridiculous. One sibling would say something, and another would disagree just for the hell of it, just to rile the other up. I laughed so much my stomach hurt.

They included me in their discussions, asking me all sorts of questions in an effort to get to know more about me, and not once did I feel any sense of judgment or out of place.

I felt at peace

I felt…for the first time in my life…like I was home.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

LUKYAN VOLKOV

“Take off your shirt,” Lyla panted, pushing me down onto the bed.

“Lyla,” I moaned as she kissed my neck. Her lips on my skin were nothing short of ecstasy, and I was having a hard time focusing. “Baby, we need to talk.”

The last fucking thing on Earth I wanted to do was talk. Especially now, with my wife’s hands slowly moving down my chest. But we had to. There was shit we needed to discuss. Issues we needed to address. What happened with her brother was horrible. When I put myself in her shoes, it hurt to even think about killing one of my own siblings, and Lyla had lived it. Endured it. Something like that would scar someone’s soul. She needed to talk it out. Deal with the trauma such an act would have brought forth, and I wanted her to know I was there for her. For whatever she needed.

I wanted to be her support person. Her lifeline. The person she could rely on, no matter what. The person who⁠—

“Oh, fuck me,” I breathed out when she grasped my cock in an ironclad vice.

“I don’t want to talk. I want to fuck.”

“Me too,” I whined. “Me. Fucking. Too. But we have to talk about what happened. We have to deal with it⁠—”

She gripped my chin, pinching my lips together roughly to silence me. “Listen to me. I know we have to talk. I know there’s shit we need to work out. But I haven’t felt your cock inside me in over three months. We can talk after I’m done with you. Do you have a problem with that?”

Hell fucking no.

I shook my head.

Lyla smirked, and it was nothing short of devious. She let me go and stepped back, her face switching from Playful Lyla to Huntress in the blink of an eye. “Take off your clothes and get further up on the bed.”

My whole body wracked with shivers. “I missed you ordering me around.” I did as she commanded, stripping out of my clothes until I was completely naked, and then jumped on the bed, shuffling backward until my spine hit the headboard.

I cocked my head, intrigued as she bent down and reached into her duffle bag. She pulled out a long, thick chain.

My cock hardened instantly. What’s her plan? Chain me to the fucking bed?

Please be yes.

“Arms out to the side.”

I flung my arms out so fast they smashed into the headboard with a loud bang.