Page 33 of Forced By the Bratva King
I knew my niece liked Sierra, but seeing them bond so swiftly was a marvel to me—especially because Zoya was a picky girl who wasn’t so free with just anybody. Yet, here she was, chatting and laughing like she’d known Sierra for ages.
Strange but beautiful.
“Pakhan?” Yuri’s voice came through the phone clasped to my ears.
“Never mind,” I replied to him, hanging up the phone with my eyes fixed on the girls in front of me.
“When I grow up, I want to be like you,” Zoya said, dangling her feet in the air, her heels gently slamming against the shelf.
“Really?” Sierra asked, as curious as I was to hear the girl’s reply. “Why is that?”
“Well, because you’re pretty, and you’re married to a handsome man,” she replied.
Sierra cocked a head at her, shocked at her response. She tugged against the fingers of the kitchen gloves she had on. “You’re pretty, too, and I’m sure you’ll marry an even more handsome man.”
Zoya giggled. “He has to know how to cook, though.”
Sierra had by now completely taken off her gloves. She tossed them on the countertop and leaned against it. “He has to know how to cook?” She raised her brows.
“Yes! Like my daddy!” She laughed. “He cooks for my mommy, and she always says, ‘I love you, sugar boo,’ each timehe serves her a delicious meal—which is kinda cute. But between you and me, Aunt Sierra,” she lowered her voice, “whysugar boo?”
Sierra burst out laughing, and so did Zoya.
I leaned against the door frame, watching them in silence, my presence undetected by the ladies engrossed in their gossip.
“What’s wrong withsugar boo?” my wife asked amidst chuckles.
“It’s not romantic!” she declared. “Dad knows this, too, but I think he’s afraid to tell her.”
I actually found this hilarious, and I couldn’t help smiling with my arms folded across my chest.
“You’re so funny, Zoya.” Sierra approached her and ruffled her hair before kissing her forehead.
I felt so silly now, seeing how good my wife was with kids. And to think I actually thought she had run away with my niece. That was ridiculous. I hadn’t thought it through, hadn’t analyzed the facts before jumping to conclusions. My mansion was a fortress, there was no way Sierra could escape with my men all over the place. The window that was open in Zoya’s room wasn’t an escape route; it was way too high for Sierra to successfully climb down with a four-year-old. If I had seen the situation this way earlier, I wouldn’t be feeling so silly about myself right now.
Zoya met my eyes and smiled. Then, she pulled Sierra close and whispered something into her ear. My wife turned in my direction, and I saw something that resembled fear in her eyes. I didn’t like the way her smile had gradually faded after noticing my presence. She was having such a good time, laughing and being genuinely happy for the first time since I brought her here. Now, I was the reason she’d lost that joy.
She cleared her throat and headed back to the countertop. “Zoya was hungry. She came to the room while you were in the shower, and I decided to make her something to eat—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I cut off, wearing a smile to help calm her down.
“I don’t?” Her eyes widened.
“Please, don’t be so melodramatic,” I said, walking into the room. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not all that bad.”
“But you’re not fun, either,” she said, loosening up a little.
“I can be fun,” I said, looking at my niece in a silent plea for help.
“Ah, ah.” Zoya threw her hands in the air. “Leave me outta this.”
“Zoya, come on, I thought we were buddies,” I said to her, feigning disappointment.
“We are. But Mom said never to get in the middle of a couple, so I’ll listen to her this time.” Zoya wiggled her brows at me.
Sometimes, she acted way more mature than her age.
“How old are you again?” Sierra, shocked by her response, shot a glance in her direction.