𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 • 15 || ❝𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬❞

>𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃

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𝐌 𝐈 𝐋 𝐀 • 𝐎 𝐑 𝐋 𝐎 𝐕

It's Thursday and the weather has been confusing. I watch as Elias' eyelids begin to flutter open. For some reason I have a gut feeling full of guilt. Elias got shot because of me. If I wasn't so tied up on avenging my father, I wouldn't have gotten so caught up in the Bratva. I believed my father was a good man, a loyal man. But apparently not.

"What are you doing here?" He grunts. Elias is still in pain, although he tries to hide it.

"Planning to keep you company seen as I have nothing else to do." I smile. The wedding decorations have already been ordered along with the meal plans. I still wonder why I'm going ahead with the marriage; I'm not receiving anything out of this anymore, I've learnt my father's a bad man, I'm not going to get revenge for him any longer. He was just as bad. But he's still my dad. I find myself in a predicament with myself.

"Whatever you're thinking I'd stop." The silence has broken, I can't quite remember when I started thinking about my father, but Elias has been watching me. I sigh.

I bite my lip and find my hands becoming clammy with the sweat building up, not because of the heat, there was practically no sun in sight. But, because of the nerves. "What do I get in this marriage?" I question and blurt out without thinking twice.

"Well, whether you're getting anything from this marriage or not. You owe Kristian for nearly killing him." Elias' words cut deep. I don't regret going after Kristian. I regret not doing it properly, I would've been gone by now, not stuck in the same mansion. "I'd sort yourself out Mila, your attitude is going to get you into a lot of shit."

𝐊 𝐑 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 𝐈 𝐀 𝐍 • 𝐏 𝐄 𝐓 𝐑 𝐎 𝐕

The morning has passed in a blur, I'm aware that Mila has been chewing off Elias' ear while he's been sat in his bed. He's getting better by the day, but the cold is attacking his legs at the moment causing agony. The painkillers he's on is so strong he attempts to cover up the symptoms.

"Kristian." A gruff sound pulls me away from the desk in the warehouse. I turn and stare, finding Leonid standing tall with his charcoal hair in disarray.

"Everything alright?" I question.

"We've had no further evidence regarding the shooting at the boutique." He sighs, "Whoever was the main cause of it, has covered their tracks good and proper. We're working with a professional here."

"Hitman?" I raise my brows and run my fingers through my hair, catching the tangles as they pass by.

"I'm not sure Kristian, but they know what they're doing, this is the beginning. The mind games won't stop, you're aware of that, aren't you?" I nod, I feel like groaning and inflicting pain on someone. No one in particular, just an enemy. "Maybe we should gain our oldest men, see if they recognise any behaviour, we may be dealing with a repeat offender."

I quickly phone Erik and a few other members of the Bratva warning them to be aware of all new Russian citizens, especially new ones that enter the city. Maxim is on full boarder standby. Dimitry is patrolling the streets while Leonid will take over Elias' job and fly out to Ireland this afternoon.

The muscles in my neck and shoulders become tight while I throw my phone on the desk. I groan in frustration and clench my jaw in attempt not to lose my shit. Everything was one thing after another. My phone begins to vibrate once more on the desk, causing me to lunge for it and answer. "Kristian Petrov speaking." I fiddle with the elastic band that has been left here from whoever was sat here last, no doubt it was Dimitry, he spends most of his time here flicking through orders for drugs and weaponry.

"Ah, Petrov. It's so nice to hear a familiar voice, no?" The Mexican accent ripped through the phone line, causing my muscles to constrict further.

"Pedro Lopez." I growl, "It's been a while." Although the Mexican Cartel attended the engagement party, they've been laying low, trying not to aggravate me further. Which I'm happy about, the Americans have been giving me enough trouble, I didn't need anymore. But something tells me that this phone call isn't just for a friendly hello.

"Yes, too long boy." He sniggers, "I was wondering if we could meet up soon? After the troubles with the American's have past obviously. I wouldn't want to be a nuisance." I attempt not to laugh; the Mexican Cartel are their own family. They don't expand or communicate for that matter, years ago we were alliances. But as time has passed, the Cartel has become more independent, not needing a drop of support at all.

"What's your plan Pedro?" I enquire, "There just be something up your sleeves." I wind him up, attempting to push and squeeze out any information I can out of him.

"My shirt is sleeveless Kristian; I can assure you. Mobs nowadays need to support one another, right?"

I listen to Pedro further, he was hinting at a truce...Even though our mobs haven't been attacking one another anyway, we've had a few rats here and then but there has been no business. I'm suddenly hoping that doesn't change.

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Time had gone by in a flash, one moment I was on the phone with Pedro, and the next with Elias to keep an eye on the Mexicans and any suspicious moves they make. I then called Leonid and Jace to warn them, especially as Jace is likely to bring round Nadia. Since Mila has been here it hasn't been safe for Nadia, but just as I'm beginning to contemplate having Nadia back here, another thing messes up.

I finally exit from my office, leaving the untouched mug on my desk, ready to fetch another to quench my thirst. I glance down at my watch on my way to the kitchen, 10PM. I'm drawn to the sounds around me, giggling and laughing, I'm hooked on the sound and venture out to where it's coming from. I walk into the living room and find both Mila and Polina sat on the sofa with wine glasses in their hands. I glare at Polina with annoyance. Disobedience. One thing a Pakhan can't stand.

Polina quickly places the glass down and straightens her apron. She looks at me with an apologetic expression. She knows how pissed I am.

"Leave." I grit through my teeth. First, allowing Mila out of the room a few weeks ago...Now, drinking with her.

Mila looks at me and rolls her eyes, "You're boring, did you know that?" She huffs and grabs both her and Polina's glasses and walks to the kitchen, placing the glasses on the side and staring at me.

"I'm not boring, Polina has a job to do, she isn't doing it and shouldn't be here right now, she finishes earlier than ten o'clock." I get closer to Mila. Smelling the alcohol on her breath. I take a moment to observe her facial features, I don't do this often with her, mostly because we're too busy avoiding each other, but due to her toxicity, I don't think she'd notice.

Her pupils are dilated, the darkness nearly covering the whole of her sea iris. Her freckles dotted across her nose and the highest points of her cheeks. "What are you looking at?" She looks at me, with a raised brow she begins to giggle. But her body begins to topple. Her eyes have tiny dark bags hidden nearly in plain sight. She looks tired.

She looks at me with confusion and the blush suddenly falls from her face, leaving her pale, she attempts to walk away but her hands shake as she reaches for the wine bottle. It smashes in the process of her gripping the side and pulling herself up, running away to the closest bathroom. I sigh and follow her, quickening my pace to catch up with her.

I find Mila's head down the toilet, coughing and spluttering, attempting to release every single drop of sick from her insides. She gags and coughs further, I walk over and kneel behind her, combing her hair with my fingers and gathering it all, holding it in one piece.

She tries to tap my hand away, but fails and accepts the help.

After a few more minutes of Mila emptying her body, she stands up for a little bit before flushing away the toxins and sitting on the toilet seat with the lid down. She shivers and looks over to the side, eyeing up the bath.

She stands abruptly and grips on the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. Revealing the smallest bit of stomach. I storm over to her and pull it back down. "Get off!" She exclaims sharply. She pushes me away and takes off her top, it's been a while since I last saw a woman naked, I've purposely avoided the VIP area of Wilder since I've announced my engagement to Mila. But seeing the slightest bit of skin is causing my blood to jog around my body like a runner in a marathon.

"Mila is this necessary?" I enquire while I watch her struggle to take her leggings off. She huffs and groans as her chest heaves with annoyance, I attempt not to look but her sudden movements make it difficult not to. "Shut the fuck up and help me will you." I roll my eyes and rip the leggings off her legs, revealing the bareness of her skin. Her legs were as soft as velvet, and silky smooth.

"Now leave." She jumps up, jiggling her body upright and forcing me out of the bathroom.

I stand outside of the door and take in a sigh, I sudden feel claustrophobic, not in the atmosphere...But in my boxers. The tightness was so severe I felt like I was going to burst any moment. She's just a woman. I remind myself in attempt to calm my adrenaline down, but somehow it doesn't work.

"Yebat'" [Fuck]