Dark Obsession: An Age Gap, Bratva Romance (Chicago Bratva Series)

Luk stands in front of me, serious as always, while Lev steps out of the bathroom.

They’re completely oblivious to the fact that Grigori just slipped out. Relief floods through me, and I have to stop myself from grinning.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Luk says, all business. “We’ll talk about everything downstairs.”

Lev crosses his arms, giving me that look like he’s about to say something deep. “Elena, you’re not just our sister, you’re a member of the Bratva. We want you to feel like one.”

I plaster on a smile and nod.

“Thanks. I’ll be down after I freshen up.”

The second they’re out the door, I dart over to the bed, grabbing the sheets and pressing them to my face, inhaling Grigori’s scent. God, it’s intoxicating. I can’t stop thinking about him, about his arms around me, his hands on my skin. It’s like he’s still here, and I hate how much I wish he actually was.

Everything between us is so intense. This isn’t just some fling. It feels like it’s rewiring me, and it almost pisses me off how much I want him.

I let out a frustrated sigh, knowing I have to put on my game face for breakfast, although all I want is Grigori, back in this bed.

I rush into the bathroom, pausing in front of the mirror, my heart still racing. Grigori’s taste is still on my tongue, and for a second, I hesitate. Do I want to brush my teeth and lose that reminder of him? I really don’t. There’s something intoxicating about it, something that makes me feel powerful—like I did something that only I get to do with him.

I wash up quickly, scrubbing my face and reluctantly brushing my teeth. I throw on some casual clothes before heading downstairs. I already know what’s waiting for me, and it’s not going to be fun.

As I walk into the kitchen, the familiar scent of breakfast hits me—blinis, cured meats, and steaming bowls of kasha. My brothers are already there, waiting. Luk and Lev are seated, arms crossed, while Alexei leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as usual.

There’s a basket of fresh black bread on the table alongside plates of smoked salmon and sliced cucumbers. The samovar sits in the corner, its steam curling through the air, brimming with the strong, hot tea we’ve all grown up with.

Typical Russian breakfast—simple, hearty, and exactly the kind of thing that makes me feel at home. But today, the tension in the room cuts through the nostalgia like a knife.

‘Morning,’ I say, grabbing a plate and forcing a smile.

Luk wastes no time. “Let’s talk.”

I sit down.

Here we go.

“We’re worried about Grigori,” Lev starts, cutting straight to the point. “He’s nowhere to be found since the incident at the club.”

I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. I take a slow bite of bread, pretending to be unfazed. “You said that last night.”

Luk leans forward. “Something’s going on with him, Elena. We don’t know what it is, but he’s not acting like himself.”

Before I can say anything, Alexei jumps in. “Look, there’s probably more to this than we know. Grigori’s a valued member of the family, and you know he’s never been reckless.”

“Are you suspecting something about him?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady as my pulse quickens. I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. ‘Grigori’s been nothing but loyal. He’d never betray us,’ I say firmly, my tone carrying more weight than I expected. I hate that I have to defend him, but I hate it that they’re even questioning him.

Yuri enters the room, his expression sharp, like he already knows what we’re talking about. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches us, sensing the tension. After a minute, he quickly piles a plate full of food.

‘It’s not like that,’ Alexei cuts in, raising his hands. ‘We’re not saying we don’t trust him. But you’ve got to admit, he’s been acting strange. He was involved in that shooting, and now he’s gone off grid, pulling some lone-wolf shit.’

Luk nods in agreement, his brow furrowed. “He’s always been careful. But this time he’s avoiding us altogether, going rogue.”

‘We’re worried about him,’ Yuri finally says, taking a seat. His voice is softer than usual, like the weight of it is getting to him, too. ‘We care about him. We just need to know what’s going on. Something isn’t right.’

I glance between them, my heart thudding in my chest. They have no idea what’s happening with him, and I sure as hell can’t tell them. But the truth is, they’re not wrong to worry.

‘Maybe he’s just handling things his own way,’ I say, trying to keep my tone casual. ‘You know how he is.’

But deep down, I’m starting to wonder if I should be worried, too.

Luk leans forward, his eyes sharp. “Tell us everything you know about the shooting at the club.”

I sigh, annoyed by the interrogation but knowing I can’t stonewall them forever.

“Fine,” I mutter, sitting up straighter. “But it’s nothing you all don’t already know. It was chaos. We were at the club. Shots rang out, my guards were dropping like flies, and people were panicking. I told my friends to run, and I tried to make my way out.”

Luk listens, arms crossed, his gaze never leaving mine. “Where was Grigori during all of this?”

“He said he wanted to draw them away from me,” I explain, repeating Grigori’s words from that night, trying to stay as neutral as possible.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Yuri cuts in, frowning. “Why wouldn’t he stay close to protect you? That’s literally his job.”

I shrug, feeling cornered. “That’s all I know,” I say, which isn’t a lie. I don’t know the full story either, but I’m starting to question things, too. Why did he disappear before the attack?

Luk exhales, his frustration clear. “We’re not trying to grill you, Elena. We just want to protect the family.”

I don’t say anything, feeling the weight of their concern. Yuri slides a small box across the table toward me.

“Here. Thought you’d need this. Happy birthday.”

I open the box. Inside is the latest iPhone 16 in pink—the exact color I’d been eyeing for weeks. All my contacts are already loaded.

“Cute,” I say, holding it up with a smirk.

Yuri leans back in his chair, watching me closely. “We just want to make sure you’re connected. With you losing your phone the other night and after everything that went down, we need to know you’re safe. That means we need to be able to reach you at all times.”

I roll my eyes. “You mean keep tabs on me.”

“Call it what you want,” he shrugs, not denying it. “But the truth is, after what happened at the club, things are heating up. If Grigori’s involved in something bigger, we need to be ready. That means, you need to be ready.”

Luk nods in agreement. “It’s not about control, Elena. We’re just making sure you’re safe. We don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.”

I glance down at the phone, still a bit annoyed, but I can’t help feeling a little touched. As much as they smother me sometimes, I know they’re just looking out for me in their own overbearing way.

‘Alright, alright. Message received.’

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms with a playful smirk.

“May I be excused now, my dear brothers?” I ask, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Luk raises an eyebrow but says, “Sure.”

Lev chimes in, “You know this is all because we love you, Elena. We just want to keep you out of harm’s way.”

“I know,” I say, softening a bit. As much as their overprotectiveness drives me crazy, I get it. They care. ‘I understand.’

I stand up, then ask, “When are Maura and Michael getting back from New York?”

“This weekend,” Luk replies, watching me closely. “Michael’s been asking about you.”

“Can’t wait to see the little guy. Later, boys.”

I make my way upstairs, my thoughts already drifting back to Grigori. As soon as I reach my room, I pull out the new phone, my fingers moving fast as I scroll through my contacts until I find his number. I hit call.

No answer.

A flicker of disappointment settles in my chest. I send him a text.

Where are you?

No response.

I bite my lip, pacing around the room. I hate this, feeling restless, not knowing where he is or what he’s doing. He better not be ghosting me again, not after everything that’s happened. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

Needing to clear my head, I decide I need to get some fresh air. I shoot a quick text to Luk.

I’m going for a walk.

He responds almost instantly.

You know the drill.

I roll my eyes at the mention of drill—he means bodyguards. Of course.

Luk sends another message.

And no running off this time unless you want Alexei to drag you back by the scruff of your neck again.

I roll my eyes yet again as I type.

Ha, ha. Fine.

I glance out the window at another gray, dreary fall day. Chicago’s skies are always overcast like this in autumn, like it’s always about to rain. I throw on a sweater and boots, then head downstairs, feeling the familiar weight of frustration on my chest.

I need this walk more than I realized.

Two of my bodyguards are already waiting by the door, stone-faced and stoic as ever. I raise an eyebrow. “Morning, gentlemen. Ready to get in our steps?”

Neither of them cracks a smile.

“Tough crowd,” I mutter.

We head out, the cool autumn air hitting me as we cross the massive driveway toward the gate. The leaves are already turning; a few scatter across the sidewalk. Once we’re outside the compound, the tension eases a little. It’s not like I can go anywhere without them breathing down my neck, but at least it’s better than being cooped up inside.

I think of Grigori as I walk, a new constant in my life. Where the hell is he and why hasn’t he called me back?

I glance down at my phone again, hoping for a message, but the screen remains blank.

Damn it.

The silence from him is starting to feel heavier than the gray skies above me.