Broken Promises – Sokolov Bratva Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Insta-Love, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
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“You should see the painting she did of our father,” I say.

“You painted Dad?” Ania asks.

Lia nods. “I just… I don’t know. It’s weird. I didn’t decide to paint him. I just heard the awful news, and it’s almost like something made me do it.”

“The awful news,” Mikhail grunts, shaking his head.

Lia shrugs. “I didn’t know him, just what I’ve seen in the news.”

“Be happy you didn’t know him,” Mikhail grunts. “If he didn’t put that bullet in his head himself, it would have only been a matter of time before somebody did.”

“It was a suicide?” Lia gasps.

“You didn’t know that?”

“No, I just… I don’t know what happened. I know nothing.”

When I hear the pain in her voice, I can’t help but reach across the table and touch her hand. She lets me touch her momentarily, but she doesn’t hold me. Then she gently but obviously moves her hand away. I swallow, my jaw tight, my head aching.

She should never move away from me. She should never be scared or nervous around me. There should be no awkwardness or insecurity between us.

“The game sounds great, anyway,” Lia says after a pause.

The rest of the meal is quiet. Eventually, Ania talks about her last practice session and murmurs, “I’m thinking about joining the group in the city. I mean, I could now, right?”

She means nothing is stopping her now that our father is gone. He was the only one who didn’t want her to perform. Once, during a nasty fight, the cold old bastard yelled at her, “Your mother was a slut, and now you want to be one, too!”

“Of course you can, Ania,” I tell her. “You can do anything you want.”

“I’m going to get back to work,” Mikhail says after dinner.

“Yeah, me too,” Mila mutters.

“I need to go into the city.” I sigh heavily, wishing I could stay with Lia instead.

“Are you going to take security?” Mikhail grunts.

“I’m not sure,” I say, and Mikhail nods, knowing why.

“Change of plan, then. I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“If those fuckers hit you again, I don’t want you to be alone.”

I nod, then stand up. “Lia, can I walk you home?”

“Home,” she repeats dryly, then stands up. “Sure.”

The sun has set now, turning the guards into silhouettes as they patrol the perimeter. We have leverage and loyalty from every man here, but that doesn’t mean Nikolai hasn’t slithered beneath the surface and twisted their heads like the snake he is.

When we walk into the other house, I close the door and wrap my arms around Lia. She does her classic, cute-as-hell Lia thing, putting her hand on my chest like she’s going to push me away. When I grab her hips, I feel her warmth through the denim and pull her toward me as she collapses into the kiss. I find her tongue and savor her passion and heat.

She leans back, shuddering, her eyes wide and wild. “Just so you know, I’m a virgin,” she spits like it’s a conversational weapon.

My balls immediately tighten. The tip of my dick aches, precome threatening, as I try to process what she’s just told me. She felt like mine before she said this, but now, it hits deep. It hits hard. She’s mine—only mine and she will only ever be.

“So, you know, maybe back off?” Her cheeks are red. Her eyes are glistening. “You can’t just bring me here and do anything you want!”

“Lia…” The only way I’m able to push down the fierce, hot lust—or at least bench it for now—is because of the sadness in her voice and the glittering in her eyes. I take both her hands. “Whatever you’ve been through, whatever you’re carrying, you’re not alone now.”

When she bursts into tears, something in me changes. It’s like the protector, already fiercely attached to my Lia, roars inside me. All the ownership and the need to keep her safe swells up in me. The word forever echoes around my mind.

I hug her close to my chest, stroking my hand through her hair as she weeps against me. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers.

“Don’t apologize,” I growl. “I’m here for you.”

“But why?” she snaps.

“Because… because you’re you,” I snap right back. “You’re a good person, Lia. You’re kind, smart, strong.”

“Strong,” she repeats, smoothing the tears from her cheeks.

“Even strong people cry, Lia.” I kiss her gently on the forehead. “We can talk about it if you want.”

“Don’t you have to leave?” she asks. “Don’t you have to save the city?”

“I can’t stay,” I admit, which hurts me. “I’ll most likely be working through the night, but I can tell you need to unload this. You’re not alone anymore.”

You never have to be alone again, I almost say, which would mean crossing too many lines too fast. Yet, haven’t we done that already?

She grips my chest. I think she’s going to push me away again, but then she leans back, staring up at me with red eyes, her cheeks flushed from the crying. She looks tired and beautiful, a combination that tugs my mind to an image of her lying in a hospital bed after giving birth.


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