Sold to the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Lavrin Bratva) Nicole Fox (most popular novels TXT) 📖

The last thing either of us needs is to die from hypothermia. Up at this altitude, that’s a very realistic threat. Annie rests her head on my shoulder and every one of my senses tingle. God, how I love having her this close to me.

“Thank you for keeping me safe,” she whispers, her warm breath caressing my skin.

I run my fingers over her arms and press my nose into her scalp, inhaling. She presses closer to me and curls up, wrapping an arm around my waist. One day, when we aren’t running for our lives, I’m going to bring Annie back here and we’re going to camp out just like I used to do with my father.

“Where did you learn first aid?” I ask.

It’s an innocent enough question, so I’m surprised when every muscle in Annie’s body tenses and times passes before she speaks. “My father used to come home with wounds that my mom and I would have to tend to.”

“Was he a cop?”

Annie sighs. “I wish. He was a scumbag. He worked for the mob.”

Air rushes from my lungs. A thousand thoughts run through my head, all inadequate for the moment. I can see the hurt and anger in her eyes. There’s a story there, an ugly one. I wrap my arms tighter when she begins to shiver again.

She starts speaking before I can figure out what I should say. “I wish I could forget a lot of it. Mom and I used to be afraid all the time. Bricks would be thrown through our windows and we even had body parts delivered to our house. I’ll never forget the first time I opened a box and found a finger in it.”

Her voice cracks and my heart aches at the thought of Annie—a young Annie, no less—finding a severed finger. That would never happen on my watch. Not that I haven’t sent similar warnings. But I would never involve a young child.

On purpose, at least.

“Eventually my father got arrested. It was in the newspapers. The whole school found out and everyone turned on me. Not that they didn’t already harass me for being poor, for wearing hand-me-down clothes, or for not having food. But my family did the best they could. Eventually, my mother and I moved and started over.”

“Your mom sounds like a strong woman,” I say.

“She is. She learned how to sew my father’s wounds closed. She kept a brave face when our home was attacked. And she prayed with me every night. When we moved, she went and learned the skills she needed to get a job, and she worked hard. I get my work ethic from her. No shortcuts like my dad tried.”

Out of nowhere, I think back to the old man who was dragged in front of me at the club the night I bought Annie. It wasn’t so long ago, and yet the details are already hazy and indistinct. His eyes, begging for help. I could have let him go, fixed him up, solved his problems. All that was within my grasp. I had only to say the word.

I could have given him mercy. Instead, I gave him pain.

Did I send him home to young children with bloodstained clothes and crushing debt? Was his family afraid, the same way Annie was as a child?

“Are you okay?” Annie searches my face.

“Yes.” I run my fingers through her hair absentmindedly. “I was just thinking about what you told me. What happened after you moved?”

She settles back down against me. “It all worked out in the end. Mom got us a house and I worked hard on my grades and ended up with a full ride to college.” Her soft lips stretch into a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which are lit with sadness.

Almost a happy ending. She almost made it. Maybe she would have.

If it weren’t for me.

I took away her life. I ruined what her mother worked hard to give her. I dragged her back into the hell she escaped once before. I don’t think I’ve ever hated myself as much as I do in this moment. I’ve never hated the life I live or the things I’ve done to secure my place in the underworld.

“Do you talk to your father?”

She bites the corner of her lower lip. “No. He’s dead. Died in jail. But even if he was alive, I wouldn’t have anything to say to him. I’ve moved on, made a good life for myself. And I don’t want to remember what he represents. I don’t want to live like that ever again.”

Looking at Annie, I’m not so sure I want to continue living this life. Maybe there’s another way. Maybe I can be like her and her mother and start over. Have a life where I’m not looking over my shoulder. A life where I can take my family camping and not worry about bullets flying through our windows.

Maybe it’s time I consider leaving the business I was born into.

Chapter Fifteen

Annie

“Nikita?”

He’s lost in thought, staring off into the distance. His facial muscles tense and his jaw ticks. I’m not sure where his mind is or if I can help him. Nor even if I should.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess,” Nikita says.

I look up and him and offer a weak smile. Then, I place a gentle kiss on his chest, just above his heart. A low growl vibrates from within him and I clench my knees together. Something about the sounds he makes stokes the fires within me.

Nikita pulls me closer and my hands slide up his arms. After our encounter on top of the table in the penthouse, and after everything else that followed, I want to feel him again. I want him to touch me again. He runs his fingertips down my spine, his touch sending sparks along my skin as he pushes my sweatshirt up and over my head. I unbutton his and push it from his shoulders, the bloodied material falling to