Page 72 of Bratva Menace

I took one last bite of cake, flavor absolutely exploding in my mouth. “You don’t care that my father killed yours?”

“Not in the slightest. If anything, I’m jealous. I would have loved nothing more than to do it myself.” Such raw fucking honesty.

So, if she hadn’t kidnapped me for some sort of revenge for what happened to her family, what was the reason? Could it truly all have been just about me?

“Why didn’t you?”

Her shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “Would have hurt my brother.”

Wiping my lips with a napkin, I leaned back in my chair. I chewed what was left in my mouth and then deposited the napkin on my empty plate. “You’re close with your brother?” I asked, reaching for my glass of water.

She smiled, and it was filled with love and affection. “He’s the best. A little single-minded, sure. He can kind of get stuck in his own head and refuse to budge on things sometimes. Incredibly stubborn. But he has a good heart. Deep, deep down.”

Okay. So, tight bond with the brother. Perhaps I could exploit that somehow. Use it to my advantage. I had no idea how, but I kept it in the background of my mind in case I managed to miraculously think of something.

“Being from such a big family, having so many siblings yourself, you would get it. You love them, no matter what they do or say. Even if you don’t necessarily agree with their actions, you’ll defend them and help them. Always.”

I fiddled with the collar around my neck. There was no denying the fact that I liked the way it felt. Liked its heavy weight on my skin. I liked even more that she had a matching one around her throat. “You disagree with your brother a lot?” I asked, trying desperately to keep my thoughts PG-13. If I allowed myself to think about her in a sexual way, it wouldn’t be long before I had Lyla on her back. Or, perhaps, she would have had me on mine.

“Do you disagree with yours?”

“All the fucking time,” I blew out. “In fact, we rarely see eye to eye on things. They’re a lot more serious than I am.” Probably why they were always telling me off for shit.

Guilt wormed its way into my chest at the memory of my last interaction with Aleksandr. At how I ignored him when he tried to say goodbye. I hated how I’d left things, and wanted so desperately to fix our bond.

Will I ever get that chance?

“Yeah, Lev is kind of the same,” she said with a small laugh. “I think older siblings are innately born that way. I just want to have fun and enjoy my life. Lev is hell-bent on fulfilling this stupid mission he’s had since we were kids.”

“What mission?”

For the first time, unease flickered through her eyes. Lyla adjusted in her chair, avoiding my gaze, and abruptly changed the subject. “We should get ready to leave. There’s a few stores I want to take you to before they close.”

Something wasn’t right. She was actively hiding something from me—something I had a feeling I wouldn’t like, and it filled me with trepidation. I opened my mouth to protest, but the bell hanging over the door dinged, new patrons walking in. Loud, rowdy voices hit the air not a second later. It was a group of four—all men—that pack mentality vibrating from them. They whooped and hollered, patting each other on the back and cheering them on for God knows what reason.

Cedric looked over the top of his newspaper, eyes narrowing. He kept his gaze on them as they made their way to the register. A man with a mohawk leaned against the counter, chewing his gum obnoxiously loudly.

He slapped a palm down onto the surface. “Hey! Can I get some service here? It’s like you don’t want paying customers.”

The men at his back laughed as if he’d just told the funniest joke ever.

Heidi emerged from the back kitchen, the smile on her face dropping the second she got a glimpse at the new customers. “We-we paid you already.”

Paid? The frown on Lyla’s brows told me she was just as confused and curious as I was.

“That was last week. I’m here for the payment for this week.”

“What?” Heidi breathed, eyes widening. “But I—that’s not—I can’t—” Her voice cracked with distress, and her gaze flitted to the other men, who were making their way behind the counter as if they had every right to be there. Like they owned the fucking place.

She backed up until her spine hit the wall behind her, shaking with fear. The men helped themselves to food, dipping their hands into tall glass vases filled with cookies and pastries, taking a few bites only to throw whatever was left at each other, laughing boisterously.

There were four other customers in the café; a couple—a man and a woman—an elderly gentleman, and a teenager. They all got up and hurried out without looking back.

So much for that town camaraderie Lyla spoke of. It was clear Heidi was being hustled, and not one of them stuck around to help her.

Lyla watched the events unfold with critical eyes. There was a barely recognizable shift within her. She was still smiling. Still emitting an outward, friendly demeanor, but a darkness had settled over her eyes—a darkness I was all too familiar with. A darkness that turned me right the fuck on.

Will she intervene?