Page 66 of Possessive Vows
I look down at Kira. “How are you doing?”
She wipes her eyes, not meeting my gaze. “I’ll be fine.”
I put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. My thumb wipes one of her tears away, and she makes a face. “It’s all right to be sad.”
“Is it?” she asks.
I smile softly at her. “For you, it is.”
Alexei mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. “You baby her.”
I ignore him, focusing on Kira. “Everything will be all right. I’ll take care of you.”
“You’ve already been taking care of me,” she says, lowering her voice so Mother can’t hear. “More than father ever did.”
Our father hit Alexei and me but never laid a hand on Elena or Kira. He had other ways to control them growing up, like never letting them leave the house unsupervised. They’ve been kept on tight leashes their entire lives. I know that’s why Elena isn’t upset about our father’s death. At twenty-five, she’s never been allowed to get married, while most girls in the Bratva are married off by the time they’re twenty. She’s never seen freedom. I was too young to protect her growing up.
But for Kira, I made sure to take the brunt of our father’s attention, so he couldn’t hurt her in the same way. It also helped that Kira was my parents’ miracle baby, which explains why she’s so much younger than the rest of us.
I had the strength to take care of her, and I’ve made sure to do so ever since she was born.
Alexei thinks I spoil her, but she’s my baby sister. I can’t help it.
The rest of the car ride is filled with strained tension. It’s like a bubble popping when we reach the reception hall. Alexei scrambles out of the car while I help my mother and sisters out. A Bratva man is ruthless and cold but also respectful when it comes to the women in his life.
Alexei doesn’t head inside. Instead, he walks away from the reception hall, going down the street.
“I’ll meet you inside,” I murmur to my mother. She glances at Alexei, pursing her lips before nodding, then ushers Elena and Kira to follow her inside.
I walk fast to catch up to Alexei and grab his arm to stop him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He rips his arm out of my hold. “Does it matter?” His blue eyes flash in anger. He also got out father’s looks—dark and menacing. Everyone commented on the Petrov children growing up. Half of them are dark, the other half are light. It got old, real fast whenever someone said so at a party or function.
“Yes, it matters,” I growl, grabbing his arm again. “I know what you’re doing.”
Alexei smirks. “Yeah? And what am I doing, Maxim? Hmm?”
“You’re going to get into trouble. This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled a stunt when you’re upset. Don’t be stupid.”
He jerks his arm away again. I don’t try to grab him this time. “I’m not stupid,” he seethes. “And I can do whatever the hell I want.”
I glance around, noticing that as the guests arrive, they’re glancing at the scene Alexei and I are making. “Keep your fucking voice down. I want you to go in there and be on your best behavior. No chaos.”
He shakes his head, chuckling darkly. “Are you commanding this as my brother or my leader?”
“As your brother. But that can quickly change if you want to play it that way.”
Alexei looks at me as if I’m the enemy. “Then, as my brother, you don’t get to boss me around.” He looks toward the reception hall. “I’m going to grieve Dad in my own way.”
“If you do this,” I say, stepping in front of him, “it won’t look good for the family. It won’t look good for me that I can’t even get my brother to attend our father’s funeral. You’re going to make it harder for me to gain the trust of our father’s men. Think about your actions, Alexei.”
He scoffs. “You don’t think I do? You guys don’t need me in there. I’ll just fucking mess it up like I do everything else.” He gives me another disappointed look, then walks away.
I could try dragging him into the reception, but that wouldn’t be a good look either.
So, instead, I straighten my shoulders, fix my tie, and head off into the reception. I need to be present. Alexei can be the fuckup all he wants, but I need to do my duty for my family.
I rejoin my family as our guests offer condolences. The reception hall is decked out in the finest furnishings, fanciest foods, and most elegant décor imaginable. My mother went all out planning everything. Nothing but the best for my father, even in death.