Used By the Bratva (ORLOV BRATVA #4) by Kira Fyre EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Kira Fyre
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Leon
Present
Birds chirp as I walk across the cemetery, a bouquet of roses in my
hand. There are rows of graves to the right of the path, but none is the one
I’m looking for.
I walk further into the cemetery and look at the widows weeping at
their husband’s graves while their children stand behind them. My mother
used to kneel at a grave and cry until her tears dried. She would sob for
hours, wishing she could travel back in time. The heartbreak killed her
eventually, too.
Gravel crunches beneath my feet as I head to the Orlov family plot.
I clench the stems of the bouquet tighter.
Thorns press into my palm, but with the pain comes a certain clarity
that makes it easier to put one foot in front of the other. Today is the
anniversary of Pavel’s death, but the walk to his grave doesn’t get any easier
with the years.
It still feels as raw today as it did when Pavel died. I’m only thirtyeight, and I’ve spent almost half my life without my brother.
I stop and run through my dark hair to ensure it’s still slicked back.
Pavel would hate it if I came to his grave looking like a heap of misery.
As I put my hand in my gray suit pants pocket, I glance back at the
parking lot. Sergey is still in his car but won’t come here until I’m gone.
Neither of us spends time grieving together. It’s easier to keep the
pain inside, let it out for a few moments each year, and then stuff it away
again.
A shiver runs down my spine as I step through the small wroughtiron gate onto the Orlov family’s plot. Every time I come here, I am
overcome by a feeling as if my soul is being separated from my body. A big
part of me is gone, and this hole only feels emptier when I stand in front of
the memory of it.
I run my fingers over the date on Pavel’s gravestone before I kneel
and put the flowers down. There is already a bouquet here, although I don’t
know who has visited his grave earlier.
Boris stands beside me, my second in command and my constant
shadow. He doesn’t say a word as he hovers behind me and solemnly
lowers his head. I arranged the flowers the best I could, but I didn’t think to
bring a vase with me this time.
As I stand up, Boris steps to the side. He clasps his hands behind his
back and scans our surroundings for signs of a threat.
Anyone who would dare to anger a member of my family on this
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