Page 162 of Bratva Menace

My father thought he was being followed. I thought he was just being his usual paranoid self, but hey, no one gave a shit about my opinion. He told me to watch him from afar to see if anyone was tracking his movements. So, that was what I was doing, even if I thought he was being absolutely crazy. No one in their right mind would follow the Bratva Butcher.

I stayed at least a hundred metres behind him at all times as he walked down the street, his bodyguards right at his side. I’d chosen a pretty awesome disguise, even going the extra mile and getting a custom-made wig and facial hair to better hide my appearance.

If my father was being followed, I couldn’t afford to be recognized. If I was going to catch the imaginary stalker my father had conjured in his mind, I needed to watch without being watched, which was easy to do now that I looked nothing like myself. I had short, spiky red hair, a full beard—also the same shade—and big, horn-rimmed glasses.

I was still killing the look, of course, but at least no one would think I was Lukyan Volkov in that getup.

For hours, I tracked my father as he went to various stores along the Vegas strip, and I felt like I was going to die of boredom⁠—

A figure caught my attention from across the street. I froze, stunned. A woman slinked in and out of the shadows, her gaze securely fastened on my father.

Holy shit. He was right. He is being followed.

Interest sparked in my soul in an instant. My head cocked to the side as I studied her. She moved fast. Slick. For such a tall woman—at least six foot, I’d have guessed—, she moved with such grace and fluidly. Her movements were precise, and she didn’t draw attention to herself. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was actively searching for something out of place, I doubt I would have even noticed her myself.

My feet moved on autopilot as I tracked her tracking my father. She ducked in and out of stores, never losing sight of her target. When my father stopped, she stopped, pretending to tie her shoes. When my father turned, she turned, gazing in the windows like she was interested in what was there.

She was totally inconspicuous.

Excitement burst in my veins. Who is she? I was dying to know.

For the past month, I had been watching the mystery woman track my father. In retrospect, I probably should have told him what was going on. That he was right. Someone was following him. But…I didn’t want to. I didn’t want him to do something to make the woman disappear. She intrigued me too much.

I wanted to know her.

There was something about her that just called to me. A kindred spirit. I was sure of it. So, I told my father there was no danger, but as a precaution, I would continue to follow him from the shadows to ensure it.

The woman had been very careful to hide her identity. Every time I saw her, she was in a different getup. Her hair was always different. So were her eyes. And I could have sworn her nose was a different shape the last time I saw her too.

It made me beyond curious about what she actually looked like. Who she really was. I needed to get closer. I needed to get some of her DNA so I could run her through our system. Try to find out her true identity.

I sat at the counter of the café, drinking from my mug, my eyes firmly on the woman while hers were firmly on my father as he collected his styrofoam cup from the barista and deposited a very large and generous tip in the tip jar.

The cap she was wearing was cute.

I discreetly took out my phone and snapped a few photos of her. For memories. To look at when I missed her. Because I did. I missed her when I wasn’t watching her. I knew it was quickly becoming an obsession, and I didn’t care. That woman had been the first thing to grab my attention in years. I wasn’t letting that go. Never.

My father headed for the exit. The woman threw back whatever liquid had long since gone cold in her mug and went to follow.

Something spurred me forward, telling me not to let her get away.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to meet her. The idea to stage a run-in burst into my head, and then the next thing I knew, I was out of my seat, moving toward her, hunting her down⁠—

“Ooof.” She ran smack into my chest. She’d been so preoccupied watching my father she hadn’t even seen me coming from the other side. Her body tipped back and my arms wrapped around her waist, stopping her in mid-air. Heat shot up my spine from the contact.

Her gaze snapped to me, and my heart stopped dead in my chest.

The most beautiful pair of honey-colored eyes stared deep into my fucking soul, taking my goddamn breath away. Those were her real eyes. I was sure of it, and they would be forever seared into my brain.

There was something familiar in them. Something that my soul recognized. And I wondered if I had finally met her. My forever. The only one who could match my crazy.

There was a way to test that. If I could make her as obsessed with me as I was with her. Then, I would know. I would know she was perfect for me. I would know that I’d found the one person I would never have to hide myself from. I quickly took all of her in, committing every single detail to memory before turning on the Lukyan charm.

“Sorry about that, gorgeous. Didn’t see you.”

She shivered in my fucking arms. “Uh—I-I⁠—”

I smirked. Her mouth dropped open.