Midnight Purgatory (Bugrov Bratva #1)(88)

“That’s a first.”

I turn around and find my brother staring at me with raised eyebrows. “It’s just like you to get here when the party’s over.”

He smirks. “I knew you had it covered.” Then his eyes veer past me. “And I was mostly right.”

“It was Sobakin. He was the one that killed Mother and Otets.”

Nikolai’s jaw clenches tight. “I could’ve told you that. In fact, I did tell you that.”

I shake my head. “You had a suspicion. You never had proof.”

“Did we need it?”

“Yes,” I hiss. “Yes, we fucking needed it, Nikolai. You think I want to start a war with a powerful Bratva pakhan for shits and giggles? You’d think I’d risk my men, my family, for the sake of my ego?”

Nikolai holds up his hands. “Fine. But now, you know for sure. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Kill that motherfucker once and for all.”

Nikolai smiles. “For once, Uri, we’re on the same page.”





50





URI


Don’t do it.

The internal refrain is constant as I park my car and head inside. It’s late, but I check on Polly and Lev first. Both are fast asleep in their beds, which means I have nothing more to distract myself with.

I end up in my office with a glass of vodka in hand and the refrain throbbing louder and louder in my head.

Don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it.

I figure turning on the monitor is justified. I need to know what she’s up to. The last time, she taped paper over the cameras. Who knows what she could be doing now?

The screen flickers to life. I find Alyssa lying in bed with a crossword book over her lap. She’s wearing the slip again and with her legs raised, I can see a little more than I bargained for.

Fuck.

I turn the monitor off instantly but the image is already seared into my brain, along with a few other mental fantasies I really need to get rid of. What is it about this woman? She fills me up with all this energy that needs to be spent, and none of my usual methods dim the need even one little bit.

I throw back the liquor, but the burn doesn’t last long enough to distract me from the craving in my body. Seeing her on a screen isn’t enough—I need more. I need her scent and her voice. I need her warmth and the glaring clarity of those dusky blue eyes.

Don’t do it.

Don’t do it.

Goddammit, I’m doing it.

I slam my glass down and make my way down to the basement. I have no idea what I’m going to say to her or how I’ll explain my presence. All I know is that I need my fix. I’ll figure out the rest after I get it.

Alyssa glances up when the door opens. Her eyes pass over me for maybe a second before she looks back at her crossword book. She doesn’t so much as acknowledge my presence beyond that.

My ego tells me that this is just another tactic. But common sense tells me that she’s hurt and she’s just trying to protect herself.

I meander around the basement, pretending as though I’ve come to check on everything but her. I know from experience that she hates a long silence.

But the minutes tick by and still, she says nothing. As far as tactics go, if that’s really what she’s doing, this is a good one. The anger and frustration, I can handle. But this? Fuck this. Indifference is a beast that I’m not used to.

“Do you have everything you need?” I ask at last.

She doesn’t look up from the crossword. “Oh, absolutely,” she drawls. “I’m a very comfortable prisoner.”

Okay, so there is some spark there. Now, how do I light it up?

“Has Lev been coming down here?”

“You should ask him.”

“Alyssa.”

“Uri.”

She still hasn’t so much as lifted her head and it’s driving me crazy. Another thing that’s driving me crazy? The fact that she hasn’t pulled down her slip. I see endless thigh and the curve of her ass.

Surely she’s doing that on purpose.

“I asked you a question.”

“You sure did,” she muses. “But believe it or not, you can’t control everything, Uri. You can lock me down here and throw away the key, but guess what? I don’t have to answer your questions. Same goes for Lev—he can do what he likes.”

I scowl. “I don’t control him.”

“Really? Telling him where to sleep and who to speak to… That kinda seems like control to me.”

“I’m trying to protect him.”

Her eyes snap up to mine. Finally. “Just like you’re trying to ‘protect’ me?”

“That’s different.”

She shrugs. “You can come up with as many excuses as you want, but at the end of the day, if you don’t allow the people around you to make some decisions on their own, you’re gonna lose them.”

Her mouth quivers for a moment before she bites down, trying to stop the wobble. She slaps the book closed and throws it onto the bed beside her.

“Wanna hear a story? I’m gonna tell it either way, so you might as well say yes. About a year after she was diagnosed, my sister decided she wanted to stop treatment.” A tear slips down her cheek as she swings her legs to the side of the bed. “We had so many fights. God, so freaking many. I even stopped talking to her for a couple of weeks.”