Diamond Angel

DIAMOND ANGEL ZAKHAROV BRATVA BOOK 2 NAOMI WEST Copyright © 2023 by Naomi West All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum CONTENTS Mailing List Books by Naomi West Diamond Angel 1. Taylor 2. Ilarion 3. Ilarion 4. Taylor 5. Taylor 6. Taylor 7. Ilarion 8. Ilarion 9. Taylor 10. Ilarion 11. Taylor 12. Ilarion 13. Ilarion 14. Taylor 15. Taylor 16. Taylor 17. Ilarion 18. Taylor 19. Ilarion 20. Taylor 21. Ilarion 22. Ilarion 23. Ilarion 24. Taylor 25. Taylor 26. Taylor 27. Taylor 28. Ilarion 29. Ilarion 30. Ilarion 31. Taylor 32. Taylor 33. Taylor 34. Taylor 35. Ilarion 36. Ilarion 37. Taylor 38. Taylor 39. Ilarion 40. Taylor 41. Taylor 42. Taylor 43. Taylor 44. Ilarion 45. Ilarion 46. Taylor 47. Taylor 48. Ilarion 49. Taylor 50. Taylor 51. Ilarion 52. Taylor 53. Ilarion 54. Taylor 55. Ilarion 56. Taylor 57. Ilarion 58. Ilarion 59. Taylor 60. Taylor 61. Ilarion 62. Taylor 63. Ilarion 64. Taylor 65. Taylor Epilogue: Ilarion Extended Epilogue: Taylor MAILING LIST Join the Naomi West Mailing List to receive new release alerts, free giveaways, and more! Click the link below and you’ll get sent a free motorcycle club romance as a welcome present. JOIN NOW! http://bit.ly/NaomiWestNewsletter BOOKS BY NAOMI WEST Zaitsev Bratva Ruby Malice Ruby Mercy Aminoff Bratva Caged Rose Caged Thorn Tasarov Bratva Midnight Oath Midnight Lies Nikolaev Bratva Dmitry Nikolaev Gavriil Nikolaev Bastien Nikolaev Sorokin Bratva Ruined Prince Ruined Bride Box Sets Devil’s Outlaws: An MC Romance Box Set Bad Boy Bikers Club: An MC Romance Box Set The Dirty Dons Club: A Dark Mafia Romance Box Set Dark Mafia Kingpins *Read in any order! Andrei Leon Damian Ciaran Dirty Dons Club *Read in any order! Sergei Luca Vito Nikolai Adrik Bad Boy Biker’s Club *Read in any order! Dakota Stryker Kaeden Ranger Blade Colt Tank Outlaw Biker Brotherhood *Read in any order! Devil's Revenge Devil’s Ink Devil’s Heart Devil’s Vow Devil’s Sins Devil’s Scar Other MC Standalones *Read in any order! Maddox Stripped Jace Grinder DIAMOND ANGEL ZAKHAROV BRATVA BOOK 2 Five years ago, I ran from the devil who got me pregnant. I have a son now. A boy I’d do anything to protect. But I left behind the sister I loved more than life itself. So when Ilarion Zakharov finds me again, I have an impossible choice to make: Do I go back with him to the world I left behind? Or do I leave my sister to drown in the mess I caused? Ilarion doesn’t make choosing easy. With every touch, every kiss, every searing look from those blue eyes, he reminds me of the truth: I love him. I’ll always love him. I can’t help but love him. Even if loving him costs me everything. DIAMOND ANGEL is Book 2 of the Zakharov Bratva duet. The story begins in Book 2, DIAMOND DEVIL. NOTE: This is a light mafia contemporary romance. No cheating. Ends in HEA. TAYLOR FIVE YEARS LATER It’s funny how someone can look so familiar and still feel like a stranger. The high society blonde beaming at me from the photograph in the news article isn’t my sister. She’s wearing too many jewels, smiling too perfectly, holding herself too gracefully. And yet she is. She’s Celine. This is the sister who dutifully did my hair every morning when I obsessed over French braids. Who baked me cookies on the days I was too sick to go out and play. Who built blanket forts and read books with me by flashlight when Mom and Dad went out on their increasingly sporadic date nights. I used to think I knew her better than I knew myself. How do decades get wiped away in five short years? Not that they were short for me. The past five years have felt like a life sentence. I’m only twenty-seven, but in my bones, in my heart, I feel so, so much older. “Good afternoon, Tater Tot,” Dad chimes, ambling into the kitchen. He’s really committed to this whole suburban grandfather persona. Some might say he’s slightly overcommitted. Sweater vest, brown corduroys, the works. He makes a beeline straight to the coffee pot and pours himself a mug. “Why the long face?” I swipe out of the news app on the tablet and lay it facedown away from me. “Nothing.” He frowns, clearly not buying my half-assed poker face. Taking the seat opposite, he drags the tablet toward him and flips it back over. I don’t want to watch him stumble across the exact same picture I was just obsessing over, so I let my gaze wander elsewhere. To the steam spiraling up from his cup of coffee. To the afternoon sun peeking through the window blinds. To his pale hand tapping on the tabletop. He still wears his wedding ring. It makes my heart hurt to see that. I’m jittery as hell, so caffeine is the last thing I need, but when I see Dad pull open the news app, I get up to refill my own cup. I chose this house purely because of the kitchen. The garden window sits in front of the sink, which is big enough to bathe a toddler in. I tested it with Adam when we first moved in. He loved splashing around, blowing raspberries at the window, giggling when his rubber duck bobbed in the suds. I cried when he got too big for it a year or so ago. He caught me with tears in my eyes, hugged me, and told me he’d squeeze himself back in it if it would make me smile. I told him he didn’t need to. The image made me smile, and that was enough. That’s my son, though. Kind-hearted. Sweet to a fault. I decide