Page 2 of Bratva Menace

I wanted to watch, even if it was only him sitting on the couch, staring at the television or scrolling on his phone.

I’d have spent all my days and nights just watching him if I could.

My music cut off abruptly when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and released a groan at the name dancing across the screen.

I gave the dark room across the street one more glance. Still no movement. With a sigh, I took out one of my wireless headphones and rolled onto my back, staring up at the night sky as I answered.

“Yes?”

“Where are you, Lyla? Are you stalking that Volkov kid again?”

“Why do you bother asking the question if you just plan to answer it yourself, Lev?”

“Because I hope, by some miracle, you’ve finally seen sense and given up this ridiculous infatuation you have with Lukyan-Fucking-Volkov.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Well, that’s just foolishness on your part, and you should honestly know better. You have no one to blame but yourself for your disappointment. You can’t just ‘give up’ on true love.”

“True love,” Lev scoffed, his derision coming through the phone loud and fucking clear. “He doesn’t even know who you are.”

“He might not know who I am, but knows me. Our connection⁠—”

“I can’t listen to this again,” he cut in. “You need to get over this. Now. Or have you forgotten our mission?”

I chewed the inside of my lip. Despite what my brother thought, I hadn’t forgotten about the mission. He just didn’t know that mine was slightly different from his.

And Lev couldn’t know that. Not yet. Not until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

I rolled back onto my stomach and glanced into the scope, not really expecting to see anything. It had been hours without a hint of movement from Lukyan’s room, but my breath caught in my throat when I saw him.

Standing on his balcony, shirtless, forearms leaning against the railing as he stared up into the sky, he was the picture-perfect definition of deliciously fuckable.

Every time I saw him, whether it be up close while he was sleeping or afar from the shadows, my heart pounded in my chest, my insides turning to complete mush.

“I have to go.”

“Lyla, don’t you dare⁠—”

I hung up.

With renewed, excited energy flooding my veins, I adjusted my position, bracing my elbows on the ground as I clutched the rifle securely.

Lukyan’s hair was down, just touching the tips of his shoulders, and a gleam of sweat lined his skin. A joint hung loosely in his fingers, his face relaxed. Calm. Serene. The sharp lines of his face, those full lips, and gorgeous eyes were what drew everyone in. Myself included.

My entire being came to life, every part inside of me exploding like a firework the longer I looked at him. Studied him. Admired him.

Memories of all the times I’d done that exact same thing—watched him from afar—mingled together, and I honestly couldn’t recount how many times I’d actually done it. I knew it had to be in the hundreds, teetering on the thousands, and yet, it felt like it wasn’t enough. That it would never be enough. I could have watched him do the most mundane things from the moment I woke up ’til the moment I fell asleep and never tire of it, as if it were the most riveting piece of entertainment in history.

All of a sudden, Lukyan stiffened. He straightened, his eyes narrowing into slits, suspicion streaking across his face. His gaze moved over the buildings in front of him. Slow. Assessing. Methodical. And then stopped. Right on me.

My breath hitched.

There was no way he could see me. It was pitch-black. I was on the roof of a building taller than the one he was staying in. There was not a chance in hell he could see me, and yet there was no mistaking the fact that he was looking right in my fucking direction. Right up at me. Right into my fucking eyes.

I knew it.

I knew it wasn’t all in my fucking head. Lev was wrong. Lukyan felt that connection too. How else could one explain him staring right into my goddamn soul when all the evidence dictated that he couldn’t possibly be doing that?

Because we were connected in a way no one else could understand.