Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Yana’s gone back with her husband, but the rest of them are here still. Zoya lives here with Polina and Rafail, and though Semyon and Rodion both have a place of their own, it seems we spend more time here than anywhere else. Not that I’m complaining. This place is epic.
Semyon lounges in the corner, his arms crossed, but there’s an uncharacteristic twitch to his lips. Rafail sits near the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching them all with the quiet authority of someone who doesn’t need to say much to command a room.
It all feels… normal. Strangely domestic for a Bratva family. I expected them to be colder, more aloof.
Rodion’s arm slides around my waist. “They like you, you know.”
I lean into his warmth. “And I like them,” I say softly, watching as Rafail ruffles Zoya’s hair, and she swats his hand away. “Your family.”
“They’re not always this… easy,” he says.
“I don’t need easy, Rodion. I need real.”
A sharp knock at the glass startles us. We pull away like two teens caught making out behind the school. Zoya stands on the other side of the doors, grinning at us. She motions for us to come inside, mouthing something I can’t quite make out.
Rodion presses a quick kiss to my forehead. “Let’s go. You want to see real?”
I let him pull me inside. I love it here, but I do feel a little shy around all of them.
Zoya barely waits for us to step inside before she plops down on the couch, swinging her legs over Polina’s lap. “You’re late,” she says teasingly. “We saved you a seat, but you were too busy making out.”
Polina snickers and playfully smacks Zoya’s leg. “Behave, little sister. I told you they’d come in eventually.”
Rodion huffs, guiding me to a vacant loveseat. “You’re lucky we put up with you two.”
Rafail’s gaze flickers toward us. “Part of the deal. Family, you know.”
Family.
I do know.
I clear my throat and decide to dive right into what’s been plaguing me. “Has there been any… you know… talk or blowback of whatever because of Shawn?”
“Yes,” Rafail says soberly, meeting my gaze. “Several women have come forward to the press in California, stating that he sexually harassed them at work, and one says she’s a former girlfriend he assaulted. The general consensus is that they’re glad he’s missing but not surprised.”
“There’s even talk online from a few women saying they hoped the women he hurt finally banded together to bring, what did they say… poetic justice.”
My heart aches. It isn’t the answer I expected. Rodion’s hand squeezes my knee.
Now that Shawn is gone, it feels like I can start rebuilding in a way I couldn’t before, when I was always looking over my shoulder, always waiting for the next shoe to drop.
“This has all made me think, Ember.” Rodion’s gaze snaps to Rafail as if he doesn’t know what to expect. I wait myself.
“Yes?”
“Maybe you should start doing your book reviews again.”
I feel my jaw drop open. “What?”
The room stills for half a second.
I don’t know if the rest of them know how much this matters to me. I was willing to table it all for the sake of his family, but it feels as if I lost a part of me in the process.
“You… want me to pick up reviews again?”
Rafail leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can thank Zoya for this. She pointed out that no one will ever actually believe that you married into a Bratva family. Even if the media or commenters catch on, it will seem like it’s part of the fun of it all.”
Polina grins. “It’s true. You look way too innocent.”
“Thanks?” I laugh, tucking my hair behind my ear. My cheeks feel hot. Rodion’s arm falls heavily over my shoulders.
“She’s right,” Zoya chimes in. “Think about it. No one thinks of us as… well, normal. But you? You break that stereotype.” Her eyes shine with something I can’t quite place. Pride? “Plus,” she continues, shaking her head. “I haven’t had a good book rec in ages, and I’m dying for another.”
I laugh. “I can give you plenty one on one.”
Zoya’s eyes shine bright. “It’s not the same, Ember. Plus, I’m not the only one who wants to hear from you.”
She’s right. I look down at my hands, suddenly bashful. I still get messages and emails from my friends, and the truth is… I miss it. I think I’d see the book world in a whole new light now.
Like my photography, my love of all things romance is a part of who I am, an extension of my hopes and dreams. I live through the pages of my books in a way that’s hard to explain. I love romance because it’s a constant reminder that even normal people deserve to be loved, that it’s healthy to want to dream, and that everyone deserves a happy ending.