Ruby Mayhem: A Russian Mafia Romance (Vyronov Bratva Book 1)

I immediately snap my mouth shut as Dima storms into the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

What’s his deal? This place is starting to feel like a freaking train station. And who is he talking about?

They found her?

Who?

All I know is that Kirill has gone stiff as a post. And I didn’t even get a chance to tell him about the baby. This is the second time this has happened.

Shit!

I was so sure it was the right time. It is the right time. I can’t keep this to myself anymore. It’s too damn important. But the moment seems to have passed. Because he is pulling away from me, facing Dima.

“What the fuck are you talking about, bratok?”

I keep a hand on his arm, not wanting to break contact with him.

“Our guy kept looking – as you instructed. After she didn’t pitch up at the meet. We assumed the worst because that fucker Ivan…” Dima stops and rubs the back of his neck. “Anyhow, you know how she can be when-”

“Ne na angliyskom.” Kirill slants a look at me and then looks back at Dima, who gives a tight nod and then launches into rapid-fire Russian. Needless to say, I don’t understand a word. All I know is that Kirill is growing more and more tense as Dima continues speaking.

I stand from one foot to the other, trying to figure out what on earth is going on, and cursing myself for not picking up at least a little bit of Russian since I’ve been brought here. That’s going to have to change. Especially now that I’ve decided to stay. The thought hits me like a shockwave.

I’m going to stay.

Screw the FBI.

Screw escape.

As I watch the hard lines of Kirill’s face while he speaks animatedly with Dima, the way those insanely beautiful eyes glitter, and how a dark curl of hair falls over his forehead, I know that I want to be with this man. I don’t care if he’s older than me. I don’t care about his temper issues. He showed me that deep down, he’s a good man. He showed me that he cares for me. I want to be with him more than anything. I want to be here and have his child and raise it with him.

If that means I’m nuts, then so be it.

You are nuts, Tee.

You are most certainly nuts.

But nobody has ever looked after me the way he does. Not my dad who fucking sold me at an auction, or my mother who disappeared without trying to get to know her own daughter. Or even Roxie who cheerfully helped me escape when I was obviously doing the wrong thing.

As sad as it is, Kirill is right. There is no-one out there for me except danger. Nobody who cares. That’s why I belong here. I belong here with the man who would move mountains for me because he believes I deserve it.

I don’t care what Agent Asshole and the others threatened me with… or what they try to promise me. What they’re offering me is not freedom – it’s just a cage of a different kind.

Witness protection?

Yeah, right.

Like they could protect me from Kirill and the Bratva.

Even if they could protect me, I’d be under their control for the rest of my life. Not to mention that I would have to keep looking over my shoulder wherever I go, trying to hide and run away from the man I want to be with.

The father of my child.

The only one who truly cares about me.

The one who sees me the way I am and loves me for it.

My lover.

Kirill Vyronov is my lover. Not even my best friend sees me or looks at me the way he does. And maybe his definition of love is different from a normal man’s. But then again, Kirill Vyronov is no normal man. He is one of a kind. And he wants me. He is willing to better himself for me. Nobody has ever done that for me.

“Ptichka.” He’s looking down at me, and it takes me a moment to realize it because I’m still reeling at what I’ve just learned about myself.

I love this man.

I freaking love him!

“Yes,” I manage to croak out, trying to keep my shit together.

“We need to talk.”

“Yes,” I say again, almost mesmerized by my own realization. We definitely need to talk. About so much. I barely know where to start because everything I have to say holds so much weight that I feel crushed by it all.

“I must tell you something,” he begins. I put my finger over his lips, feeling the light rasp of stubble there. He hasn’t shaved. His eyes are shadowed. I know it’s my fault; I did that to him when I left him. I won’t do that again.

“No, I need to finish what I was going to say,” I interrupt him. I have to say it all. About the baby. About the FBI and their outrageous demands and their plans to arrest him and collapse his empire.

About how much I love him.

“Tiana, it has to wait.” He brushes a kiss against my finger before moving it away.

“No! It can’t wait.” I’m breathless with the enormity of what I’m about to say. I glance over at where Dima is staring in bemusement. “I…” I swallow hard and lick my lips. My mouth feels like a desert. “Kirill, I…”

He frowns at me. “Ptichka, there is something I must tell you, but if you are going to-”

“I’m getting there!” I put my hand up.

Oh God.

I can’t do this.

Dima is right here.

He’s going to freak out about the FBI thing. So will Kirill. And while I’m pretty sure that Kirill will never hurt me, there’s no telling what the stocky Russian who’s glowering at me might do.

But then again, Kirill won’t let him touch me. Of course he won’t. But the trouble it will cause…

Shit!

Just get it over with, Tee!

“I’m so sorry I left,” I forge on. I cup his cheek with my hand. “It was wrong, and I know that now because while I was out there, I…” I lick my lips yet again. “I realized how much I care about you, Kirill. Deeply. So much so…” I take in a deep breath because I know there’s no way I can tell him about the baby or the FBI while Dima is staring at me with his mouth hanging open. Even if we were alone, it would be hard to tell him the most important things.

That I love him.

That I’m carrying his baby.

“You care about me.” He tilts his head.

“Yes.” I nod like a fool. “More than… more than anyone. And I want you to know that I’m never going to scare you like that again, Kirill. I belong here with you.”

There is a slight tightening at the edges of his full lips as he takes in my words. And then his eyes soften. It’s not something that anyone else might easily see, but I know that look. He’s pleased. More than pleased.

When he pulls me up against his lean, hard body and presses his lips to my forehead, I know that I’m right.

“That’s good, Ptichka,” he murmurs into my hair. “That’s good, because it would kill me if my little bird flew away.”

“It won’t happen,” I say hoarsely, burrowing closer and feeling his warmth seeping into me. Why did I ever want to be anywhere else? This is home. Here, where I’m wanted. This is the place where Tiana Avants needs to be. And soon, it will be Tiana Vyronov. Because if he wants me as his wife, and the mother of his child, I’m going to dive in headfirst and love every minute of it.

Dima clears his throat. “Boss, this is very…uh…”

I’m pretty sure the word he’s looking for is “awkward.” I step away from Kirill slightly, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Kirill doesn’t seem to care at all. “Dima, we can deal with that situation later. I am busy now.” He threads his fingers through mine; they’re warm and strong, just like the rest of him. It gives me a happy little shiver that ripples down to my core, and I press my thighs together. Maybe this conversation needs to continue in the bedroom.

I stifle a smile.

“No, Boss. That won’t be possible.” Dima shakes his head. “You see, we didn’t just find her when we tracked her down. We brought her here. Where she would be safe.”

She?

The atmosphere suddenly shifts. I still don’t know who this she is, but Kirill has turned to stone. The already hard muscles of his arm now feel like granite beneath my fingers. I steal a glance at his face and see that his jaw is clenched, a muscle flickering in his cheek. I recognize the signs; he’s keeping his temper in check… but barely. And I’m so damn glad that it’s not aimed at me right now, because he’s terrifying when he’s angry.

“You brought her here?” Kirill says, his voice low and menacing. Twin spots of color mark his cheeks. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Dima?”

Dima splays his hands. “What did you want from me? You told me to fix it. I fixed it.”

“And this is your idea of fixing it?” Kirill barks, raking a hand. I get the feeling he is deliberately avoiding looking at me. “What the fuck did you think would happen by bringing her here? She’s going to… eto pipets, Dima! This is a fuckup!”

“How the hell was I supposed to know what you would want?” Dima snaps a glance at me. “You haven’t given clear orders for anything, apart from your crazy hunt to find this… suka!”

Anger flares in me at his words. I might not know the language, but the meaning is crystal clear. I open my mouth to speak, but Kirill stops me. Everything in him bristles, his fists bunching, and for a moment, I feel more than a little worried for Dima.

But holy shit, the man is hot when he gets like this.

“Poshol ty’!” he growls. “You do not speak about her like that. Understand? I will gut you like a fucking fish.”

Dima backs down a little. “Yes, Boss.” He lowers his eyes. “I still don’t know what you want me to do about her, though.”

Who the hell are they talking about?

I’m starting to get pissed off. Kirill is still not giving me any clues. I’ve just told this man I care about him more than I care about anyone, and suddenly, he’s tiptoeing around something that seems to be a really big deal.

Or someone.

“Okay, I’m getting tired of all this secretive shit you two are playing at.” I glare at Dima and then look up at Kirill, who now looks seriously uncomfortable. “Who are you talking about? Who is this she?” I demand.

I get my reply sooner than expected. Both men stiffen as a cool female voice answers from behind Dima.

“Who do you think?” The voice is a husky, exotic murmur, accompanied by the click of high heels on marble as its owner steps into the room. The atmosphere shifts again. A sense of dread begins to take hold in my chest, and I can’t explain why. I crane my neck to see who it is, catching a glimpse of platinum hair and imperious blue eyes.

The woman who walks into the room shoots me a glance, then turns to face me. Her long, silky hair rolls down her shoulders, accentuating a face that wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of a beauty magazine. Cold eyes pin me in a way that makes me feel entirely inadequate.

“My name is Zoya Vyronov,” she says coolly, a perfect eyebrow arching as she gives me the once-over. “I’m Kirill’s wife. And you are?”

And I’m pretty sure that my heart stops.