I released Kisa’s hand. She got to her feet. “Talia,” she called after me, sympathy for my situation lacing her voice.
“It’s okay, Kisa,” I said in comfort, throwing her a smile. “I’ll be fine. Because what other choice is there? We’re Bratva women, stern Russians who brush anything off. I’ll work it out. I always do.”
Kisa’s eyes closed and opened only to showcase the pain she felt for me. I glanced to Luka, who had his hands in his hair. “You’re just lucky you found your soul mate at birth.” Kisa’s eyes sought out her husband and that love, that breathtaking connection they shared pulsed between them. “And that when he was lost, he returned to you.” My stomach gripped in envy and I added, “Where for me? Because I’ve fallen for the enemy, I get to cherish him, hold him, then am expected to let him go all because the great Volkov powers that be don’t approve. Question is, how the fuck do you live knowing the person meant solely for you is still out there living and breathing without you by their side?”
Luka got to his feet and I stilled. Since he’d returned, Luka had made no attempt to hold me. He’d never showed any emotion toward me. I watched him approach. Kisa stepped back, a floored expression on her face.
Warily, Luka stood before me, rocking uneasily on his feet. Shock filled my veins as his big arms lifted. Unable to hold back my gasp, Luka wrapped them around me and brought me to his chest.
I held him. I held my big brother and took solace in his embrace. I’d missed this. As kids we were so close. He’d hold me all the time. For the first time since he’d returned, it felt like maybe, just maybe, my brother, my childhood hero, was rising from his darkness once again.
I soaked in his warmth and whispered sternly, “Luka, I believe it was meant to happen. Even if it won’t be welcomed.”
Luka pressed a kiss to the top of my head and rasped, “What was meant to happen?”
“Everything,” I said back. “Your journey brought me Zaal. He’s shown me what real love is.”
Luka’s hold tightened. I felt Kisa’s hand on my back. After a few more seconds, I withdrew from his arms. Luka was watching me with concern.
Subconsciously I reached for my necklace. I ran my hand over the Tolstoi name and laughed a humorless laugh. “You know, babushka gave me this as a talisman to find my true love. It was dedushka’s. He gave it to babushka before he left for that trip to Moscow, as a way to keep him close to her heart until he returned.” I caught the gold of the necklace glinting off the beaming sun shining through the window. “I wonder what she would have said knowing that the love I found was the son of the man she hated most.”
Unable to take the pain this knowledge brought, I whispered a brief “Good night,” and dashed up the stairs.
Quietly, I cracked open the door, to see Zaal lying fast asleep on the bed. His huge body seemed to dwarf the king-size bed. My chest clenched in pain. He was mine. Every fiber of my being had claimed him as mine. My heart, my soul, my spirit. At this point, I didn’t give a fuck what anyone else thought.
I stripped off my clothes, careful not to make a noise. Zaal was lying on his back, his long black hair hanging over his pillow. His muscles relaxed as he slept. He looked so peaceful. I hoped he would get the rest he craved.
Attracted to him like a magnet, I snuggled into his side, the heat of his body instantly warming me. My head lay on his chest and I listened to his steady breathing. It soothed me. Suddenly, as if needing to touch me, even in his sleep, Zaal slid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close.
As I closed my eyes, I remembered everything Luka had told Zaal tonight. And I felt sick. His history was so sad, so violent. A wave of protectiveness embraced me, and lifting my chin, I stared up at Zaal’s handsome face.
His eyelids fluttered in sleep, and running my finger down his stubbled cheek, I whispered, “Zaal Kostava, you’ve stolen my forbidden heart.”
Chapter Fifteen