Sasha: A Dark Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)

I rubbed my face, watching Branka sleep in my arms. Naked and exhausted.

My throat tightened with the memory of the words my mother last spoke to me.

You’ll never be good enough. Not for me. Not for your father. Not for anyone.

She was a psycho bitch, but the fucking words remained. She hated me for resembling my father. She hated Father for loving another woman, and she blamed me for it.

None of it made any fucking sense. But those words started a domino effect. Her words had proven right. At least as far as Father went. We no longer mattered to him. Vasili took over the role of father, caring for an adolescent younger brother and our baby sister. Not to mention, he ran the companies and the illegitimate side of our business.

You’ll never be good enough.

I skimmed a thumb across her soft skin, cupping her cheek. And as if she craved my heat, she pressed her cheek into the palm of my hand.

My phone vibrated on the nightstand, and I reached for it.

Alessio: *I want my sister back. Unharmed. Untouched. You psychotic fucking ass.*

Me: *Your love notes make me cry. Don’t worry about your sister. She’s safe and no longer your concern.*

It took all of a millisecond for my phone to ring. My lips tugged up in a half-smile. Alessio. I should have known.

Careful not to wake up Branka, I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, then made my way to the balcony off of our bedroom.

“Hello?”

“Don’t you fucking hello me, Nikolaev.” Okay, Alessio was pissed off. “I should have known you couldn’t take no for an answer. Goddamn you.”

“I’m doing great,” I told him. “Weather is lovely. Food is great. And the company is the best.”

“You unhinged motherfucker,” he hissed. “Where in the fuck are you?”

“None of your business.”

If he thought I’d hand over Branka, he was out of his fucking mind.

“Put her on the phone,” he demanded.

“Little newsflash,” I drawled. “You don’t get to shout your demands. You can try, of course. But it’ll only make me hang up on you faster.”

Tense silence followed.

“How long?”

I frowned. “How long what?”

“How long have you had your sights on Branka?”

It was clear Branka didn’t share certain things with her big brother. Our meeting at Berkeley was something only the two of us knew about. I could lie. I should lie.

“It was when I told you she’s off limits. I just made her more tempting with those words four years ago. A forbidden fruit.”

Maybe that sealed it, but she was mine long before that. Those words pushed me to seek her out that night.

“Yeah, those words sealed it.” I settled for a half-truth.

He sighed tiredly.

“I don’t have the energy nor the time for your crazy ass,” he muttered. “Just give me my sister back.”

“You need to chill,” I told him coldly. “You’ll be dead by the time you have a newborn on your hands if you don’t calm down.”

“I swear to God, Sasha–”

“You’re not getting her back,” I said, my voice deadly calm. “Branka Russo is mine. Anyone tries to take her away from me, and you’ll see what a true psycho I am.”

I could hear his sardonic breath over the line. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Sasha, Branka isn’t for you. She’s too–” He inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled. “She’s been hurt too much. She needs a good man. Someone who deserves her.”

Frustration ran through me, the unsaid words getting to me more than they should. They hit their mark, and I fucking hated the way it made me bleed. If he wasn’t Branka’s brother, I’d fly back and put a bullet in his forehead.

My finger itched for the trigger.

The pain I pictured on Branka’s face if she lost her brother sent an odd tightness to my chest. I shook my head. There was no use fooling myself. I couldn’t hurt a fly if it’d make Branka upset.

“She’s getting me,” I gritted. “Nobody else but me. So deal with it.”

“I want to talk to her.” His voice was cold, the slightest clench of his teeth notable even over the phone.

“She’s sleeping.”

A pause. “In the middle of the goddamn day?”

I realized my mistake immediately. It was daytime back in Canada and the East Coast.

“She was tired. We’ve been busy.”

I suddenly realized how that came off. Like we’d been fucking for hours. Jesus, just a few days with Branka and I was already slipping.

“You’re dead, you goddam Russian,” he roared. “Once I find you, I’ll strangle you.”

Jesus, the guy was hormonal. “You should try some breathing techniques,” I suggested calmly. “It’s clear the pregnancy is making you volatile.”

“You. Are. Making. Me. Volatile.” His voice was strained. “I’m going to murder your Russian ass.”

I grinned into the phone, although it wasn’t with my usual gusto. If Alessio hated my guts, it’d make Branka upset. It was the last thing I wanted.

“You’d make your sister a widow?” Jesus, I’d better find someone to marry us. As soon as possible.

“She’s marrying Killian, not you.” There might have been some smashing I heard in the background.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” I drawled. She’d marry someone else over my dead body. I was done with this exhausting call. “I’ll keep you informed of our anniversaries and birthdays. When you come to terms with Branka and me, then we’ll send you pictures of us and our family.”

I ended the call without waiting for a response.

My eyes roamed the landscape around us. There was nothing for two hundred acres around us. If anyone attempted to approach the castle, they’d never have a chance to get near it without being noticed.

Still, the fear of losing Branka was like icy panic in my veins. I have been patient for seven years and almost lost her. Now, I needed her to come around and choose me. Tie her to me so nobody else could take her from me.

Blood raced through my veins. My pulse buzzed in my ears and my heart drummed too hard. It was usually what I felt before I made rash decisions.

Kill. Eliminate the obstacle.

I couldn’t do that now. It would cost me the only thing I wanted.

I returned to the bedroom and watched Branka sleep. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing shallow. She looked so docile when sleeping, her lips slightly parted and the soft lines of her face inviting.

I slid into the bed and wrapped an arm around her waist and flattened my chest against her back. I buried my face into the back of her neck and inhaled deeply, her familiar flowery scent easing my restlessness. It was only the sight of her that calmed me, slowed the rush in my ears and the beat of my heart.

“Ya tebya lyublyu, kotyonok,” I whispered into her ear.

It was the first time I said ‘I love you’ to a woman. Any woman.