The Better Brother: An Age Gap, Bratva Romance (Ruthless Bratva Daddies)

Let him have the woman he thinks makes him look better in pictures. I hope she likes weak men with wandering eyes and the spine density of overcooked pasta.

He’s handsome in a way that makes it hard to think, with dark wavy hair tinged gray in a way that reminds me of George Clooney. No, not just handsome. Dangerous. Like if he ruined my life, I’d apologize to him after. My gaze lingers a second too long. Broad shoulders. Thick chest. Hands that look like they could absolutely pick me up and, unfortunately, I would not protest.

When Matvei pulls me around and pins me against the back of the door, I entirely forget what I was going to say. The plane lurches again, but this time my legs don’t give out. Because if I’m about to die, I’m doing it pressed against a man who looks like he knows exactly how many ways he could ruin me and hasn’t even started yet.

This beast of a man wants me in this moment, and I’m going to carpe the hell out of this diem right here and now.

“Moya khoroshaya,”

“My brother is an idiot for giving you up.” His words are a dark whisper in my ear. “And by the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name.”

I hand back his ID and turn to my boss. “If I don’t text you or if I’m not back in an hour, call the police.” I’m only half joking, and everyone in the room knows it. Even Evgeny, who, as he holds the door open for me to step out into the late summer warmth, murmurs, “You don’t have to worry. Mr. Volkov will have more than my head if I let anything happen to you.” “I’m not sure that makes me feel any better,” I admit.