Arranged Bratva Love

Aurora

Getting the meeting with Roger Hampton had been the right thing to do. There wasn’t a lot I could do properly but any way I could help, I’d be willing to do it.

Women were supposed to stay out of men’s business, but there was an opening, and I took full advantage of it. I doubted it would ever happen again. Now that Roger knew who I was married to, the chances of it ever happening again would be slim.

When Ivan approached me on the sidelines of the dance floor, it had been a welcome distraction. This guy still scared the crap out of me, but it was manageable. I knew why I was afraid of him, and what I should do to keep myself calm in his presence.

I wanted something to do with my hands. I kept opening and clenching them, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do.

This party was starting to get to me.

“Your husband is here,” Ivan said.

I turned to see Slavik advancing toward me. The frown on his face startled me. Why did he look so mad? I hadn’t done anything wrong.

All of a sudden, I felt the need to run. To get the hell out of his way. He looked ready to kill.

I stayed grounded, fear racing down my spine.

The moment his hands touched my face, the room seemed to freeze, and then, much to my surprise, my very first kiss. Slavik’s lips slammed down on mine. At first, I stilled, unsure what to make of his lips on mine.

This was a kiss.

Our mouths melded together.

Almost like one, but it was so much more than that. The hands on my cheek moved. One sank into my hair, and the other went to my hip, drawing me in.

The world faded away, and my hands went to the front of his body, running up to curve around his neck, pulling him close to me.

I moaned as his tongue traced, and I opened up my lips for him to explore. My eyes closed as I basked in this feeling. It was so consuming.

The books and movies hadn’t been wrong.

The moment the right man kissed you, the rest of the world didn’t matter.

I felt connected to Slavik.

I didn’t want it to end.

Of course, being part of the Volkov Bratva came with problems.

I jerked back as screams and the sounds of bullets rained down in the room.

Slavik pushed me to the floor at the same time as Ivan.

Glass shattered. The bullets wouldn’t stop.

I reached to cover my ears.

Slavik yelled for me to stay down.

I closed my eyes, trying to stop the panic.

My very first kiss and it ended in gunfire. This was so not fair, and I wanted to scream at whoever was ruining it. I stayed perfectly still even as Slavik’s weight eased off me. Even as I told myself to keep my eyes closed, to stay down, I couldn’t. Curiosity got the better of me.

I opened my eyes and glanced around. Men and women were on the ground. One of the waiters had fallen close to me. His eyes were wide open, and I screamed, jerking back as I saw half of the back of his head had blown off.

Sickness swirled within my gut, and I scrambled to my feet. Just as I did, more bullets came tumbling down. I covered my head, whirling around, looking for a weapon.

All of a sudden, a large body slammed into me, and I was taken to the ground, landing on the broken glass, which impaled my skin.

I whimpered, struggling against the man who was on top of me. Fear worked its way down my spine. Whoever it was slammed their fist against my face.

Everything went numb for a second as I struggled to gain focus. Pain exploded at the back of my eyes.

“You’re a traitorous bitch,” he said.

The gun was cocked.

I was going to die. I always knew I’d have a short life.

Five months into my marriage and here was my death.

The blow came, but I was still alive.

The man fell onto me. A bullet hole in the center of his head. I scrambled out from underneath him, screaming.

Arms wrapped around me, and I started to flail against him, fighting him off.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Slavik’s voice calmed me. Another surprise of the day. He shouldn’t be the one to calm me.

What the hell was wrong with me?

My heart raced. I felt sick.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

We’d been attacked at a party full of civilians, including politicians and wealthy businessmen. What was even scarier was I knew the man who had attacked me. He worked for my father. This attack came from my old family, and as I looked up into Slavik’s eyes, he knew as well.

The sound of police sirens filled the air.

Neither of us spoke.

Slavik handed me over to Sergei. “Take her home. A doctor will be by to look at her.”

I didn’t have any wounds, just cuts from landing on the glass. I followed Sergei without argument. Slavik didn’t follow. Within seconds, I was in the back of our car and Sergei drove us back to his penthouse suite. There was no time to waste.

As he got out of the car, he drew his weapon, helping me from the vehicle. We got into the elevator and still, Sergei held his gun.

“I don’t think it’s worth holding your gun out. If we pass any children, they’ll be terrified.”

“I’m not going to risk it. Your safety is more important.”

I chose not to argue.

Tonight had been … crazy.

I touched my lips. My fingers were dirty and some of them were cut. I had a throbbing behind one eye, and it was becoming a struggle to see, but my lips still tingled.

Did this seem to matter more because it was my first kiss?

The elevator doors opened, and Sergei went inside the apartment first, only allowing me to follow once he was sure the house was secure.

I kicked off my heels, happy to feel the ground once again.

I went immediately to the freezer, taking out a bag of peas and pressing it up against my burning eye.

“We’re all clear.”

“They attacked the party. I doubt they’d follow us.”

“We have many enemies.”

“All of which are not after me.” I couldn’t help but think of the vile words the man had said to me. I wasn’t a traitorous bitch. I’d been given to Slavik by my family. If there was a peace treaty, why were my father’s men attacking the party? Were they planning to incite war? What was the point of this marriage if that was the end game?

“Are you okay?” Sergei asked.

“No.” I winced. “I mean, yes, I’m fine. I just, ouch.” I lifted the bag of peas for him to look.

“Ouch,” he said.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re trained in all elements of torture and hurting people and you call this ouch. I’m a wimp.” I couldn’t help but pout. I’d screamed and been terrified. I’d even stood up as if it was safe to do so. I was a fucking idiot. I hated my reactions and it pissed me off.

“You’re a woman. It was a scary situation.”

“I could have helped.”

“Really? Do what?”

“I don’t know. Shoot a gun.” I hated that Slavik had to go and I had to stay. What if he’d gotten hurt? Why did I fucking care?

Ugh! I hated all these questions. I hated my husband.

There was a knock at the door, but it didn’t exactly ease my troubled thoughts. Sergei left me, but I didn’t like how his touch seemed to linger. I had to be going crazy if I thought Sergei was being … inappropriate.

Slavik would kill him if he even doubted for a second my feelings for Sergei. He was a friend. Not even that. We were companions. Even that didn’t sound right.

An old man with a head full of white hair and wrinkled eyes around the corners stepped in to the room.

“Hello, Mrs. Ivanov. I’m Doctor Smith,” he said.

There was no way Smith was his real name.

“Hi,” I said, releasing the bag of peas.

We ended up in the dining room. Sergei stood guard as the doctor assessed the damage. I had several fragments of glass embedded underneath my flesh. It wasn’t too bad. With the dress I wore, I had no choice but to place a bath towel in front of me as he released the back of the dress. There was support built into the bodice which meant I could forgo a bra.

I winced each time he released a piece of glass. I felt even more ashamed that I couldn’t take the pain.

After years of being hit or whipped by my father, I figured I’d be used to it.

When he removed a piece of glass, his fingers paused on a spot at my back. “This is an old scar,” he said.

I stayed perfectly still.

Whenever my father beat me, he’d rarely take me to the hospital. One day, he’d been so angry about something. I’d been skipping down the hall. He’d told me I was making too much noise and girls, especially ugly ones, needed to know when to stay quiet. He’d torn my dress, removed his belt, and whipped me until there had been blood.

It was the first time he’d used his belt.

The doctor had no choice but to use stitches to help heal the wound. The scar had remained. For several months, he never came near me. I did get more toys after that.

The memory of it was so strange and sudden. Along with many others, I’d pushed it to the back of my mind so I didn’t think about it.

Life got easier that way.

I said nothing.

The sound of the door opening had Sergei tensing.

The doctor cleared his throat as Slavik came into the room.

“What is going on?” he asked.

I saw his shirt was covered in blood. There was some bruising on his face, and I saw a cut on his side that already had a white bandage covering it. Life was so unfair. Why did he have to look so good while I got to look like this?

“She had some superficial wounds. The glass wasn’t too deep. She has a couple of cuts, but in a few days, they’ll heal. I see no reason to apply stitches.”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“Leave,” Slavik said.

With the way he looked at me, fear raced down my spine. I don’t know what was happening right now, but the doctor quickly packed away his stuff.

Sergei hesitated, but Slavik repeated the order.

Alone. I stared at my husband.

“You knew that man tonight,” Slavik said.

“Not personally, but I recognized him. He worked for my father.”

“Do you have any idea why he’d attack that party?”

“He’s an idiot?”

“This is not a joke.”

“I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure out why they would attack the party. None of it makes any sense to me.” I told the truth. I had nothing to hide.