Page 9 of Bratva Menace

Christian thumped a hand on the table angrily while his other one scratched at his groin vigorously. “That moron decided to keep it. Keep the fucking spider that’s as big as your hand. Brought it a goddamn tank and everything.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second,” I said, holding up a hand. “Tarantulas are okay, but snakes aren’t?” I asked Luca.

“Snakes. Have. No. Legs.”

“Spiders have too many legs. What the hell is wrong with you?!” Christian seethed.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Luca blasted back.

The twins broke out into a full-blown argument, and I just sat back and enjoyed the show. In a way, it reminded me so much of Illayana and me. I couldn’t help but grow a little nostalgic. I sat there, soaking it all up and enjoying it as their fight escalated, both of them getting to their feet to yell at each other.

It wasn’t until a few minutes had gone by and I heard a song—“Moves like Jagger”—hit the air that my attention finally shifted, and I turned around.

Illayana was standing next to the DJ booth, a mischievous glint in her eyes as the song intro continued. She flicked her head, signaling for me to join her. I rolled my eyes as if the idea of doing so was nothing but a chore when, in actuality, excitement buzzed through my veins.

I got to my feet, leaving Christian and Luca to continue their bickering, and started making my way over to the little makeshift dance floor. I clicked my fingers, bopping along to the beat of the music, and Illayana did the same until we met in the middle and then we broke out into our routine—a dance from when we were kids.

After my mother died and my father left to track down her killers, life in the Volkov household was rough. We were all grieving. Suffering. And it seemed like life would never get any better. Illayana and I were inseparable during those first few years. We leaned on each other. Supported each other. Helped each other through the loss.

One of the things we liked to do was come up with silly little dance routines and perform them for Aleksandr and Nikolai because it made them laugh.

It wasn’t a cure. The furthest thing from it. But for those few minutes, the hurt over losing our mother had stopped.

Illayana and I weaved around each other, hiking our thumbs over our shoulders as our bodies swayed side to side. We transitioned effortlessly into the next move, and then the next and the next, doing all those silly, embarrassing dance moves from back in the 90s. The running man, the butterfly, even the fucking cabbage patch. Clapping, cheering, and whooping came from the crowd that had slowly started to gather around us.

I grabbed Illayana’s hands and started spinning us like Jack and Rose in Titanic. Her head fell back and she laughed, squealing as I spun us faster and faster. It was the most fun I’d had in a long time, the smile on my face so big my cheeks started to hurt.

The routine itself was only thirty seconds long, so, once we’d finished it, we began to pull people in from the crowd to dance with us. Everyone joined in. Sitting at a table not far from the dance floor were my father, siblings, and their partners. Nikolai helped Tatiana to her feet, one hand on her belly, and guided her over, the two of them doing a slow dance despite the fact that the beat of the music was definitely not designed for such dancing. Drea dragged Aleksandr up, the grumpy look on his face speaking volumes. He didn’t fight her as she bounded over excitedly on the tips of her toes, dragging him along. She just danced in circles around him while he watched her, completely bewitched.

Autumn wiggled her eyebrows at my father. He shook his head. She calmly moved to a stand and held out her hand. He sighed, rolling his eyes before placing his hand in hers. They made their way over, joining in.

Arturo snuck up behind Illayana, wrapping his arms around her waist. She giggled, leaning her body back into his. Illayana turned to face him, and they got completely lost in one another, the rest of the world just fading away from them.

It was a sickenly beautiful family moment.

I should have known it wasn’t going to last, though.

CHAPTER FOUR

LUKYAN VOLKOV

Isat at a table with Nikolai, Aleksandr, and Adrian, one of Illayana’s guards. The fun and loving atmosphere of the party surrounded me from all sides, the mood infectious. We’d all danced together, Nikolai and Tatiana doing sickening yet beautiful slow dances, wrapped up in each other’s embrace no matter which song was playing. It was kind of funny to watch, especially when it was an R’n’B or hip-hop song ringing through the air. But neither one cared, too engrossed in the other to even pay attention to anyone else but them.

Illayana and Drea did silly, awkward moves, not caring in the slightest how it made them look, while Aleksandr and Arturo stood beside them like guard dogs.

Even my father—a man who wasn’t known for partaking in events such as that—danced alongside us, his movements as smooth as silk, as if he’d been a dancer in a previous life.

In fact, he was still out there after the rest of us had decided to take a break, moving effortlessly to the beat of the music, twirling Autumn around him. The music switched up, and my mouth dropped open in shock as I watched him.

I looked at Aleksandr sitting across from me. “Did you know he could salsa?” I breathed out, still unwilling to believe what my eyes were seeing.

The same look of shock on my face was mirrored on Aleksandr’s. He shook his head slowly, his eyes as wide as saucers as he watched our father move his hips in time with Autumn, a genuine smile on his face.

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him so…so⁠—”

“Happy,” Nikolai finished, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Aleksandr nodded. “Yeah. Happy.”