Page 47 of Bratva Claim

I don’t waste a second. I step into the interrogation room and shut the door softly behind me.

Sienna’s head snaps up, and her eyes widen when she sees me. She pales, and I’m not going to lie and say I don’t like it.

She runs, I’ll find her.

She gets into the wrong hands—ones not associated with me—I may just kill her.

“Miss me?” I smirk, leaning against the wall.

Sienna doesn’t answer, just stares at me like I’m a ghost.

“You’ve been busy telling stories to the nice officer.”

“They’re not stories.” She whispers.

I raise an eyebrow. “No? So, you weren’t at the hotel with me? You weren’t part of the deal your father made?”

She swallows hard. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“We all have choices, Sienna. You made yours when you walked into this station. You made yours the night I said I’d handle your father over you being stuck with me.” She jerks her head away, her eyes glistening with tears. “He’s a piece of shit. You should’ve just let me take care of him.”

“I’m not…” She inhales, struggling to keep it together. “I’m not going to be behind the decision to kill my dad.”

“He’s not a good person.”

“I know that.”

“And now you’re here with a mob boss in a police station.” She slowly brings her attention back to me. “What do you think that means for you, princess?”

She’s silent again as she pieces together the cost of her defiance.

I welcome her fear.

I cross the room slowly, closing the distance between us. She shrinks away just a bit. Her chin tips up as if she wants to hold her ground, but the panic in her eyes gives her away.

“You thought the police would save you?” I ask. “You think Krupin’s the kind of man to take me down for something like you?”

Sienna’s shoulders stiffen. “He should’ve. That’s what the police are supposed to do.”

“Maybe,” I concede, pausing just in front of her. “But he’s on my payroll, and you’re not his problem. You’re mine.”

She glares at me. “You can’t keep me, Benedikt.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

I wait for her to snap back, but she just stares instead, trying to figure out what part of me is bluffing. “Now, what. You’re going to lock me up?”

“I’m thinking about it,” I answer honestly. “You’re becoming a liability.”

She barks a dry laugh. “Took you long enough to realize that. But, then again, you’re psychotic.”

“I prefer calculated.”

She scoffs. “I’d rather be dead than go anywhere with you.” Her golden-brown eyes narrow on me. “A life with you isn’t a life I want.”

“I could fuck you instead,” I murmur. “We both might enjoy that more.”

“You’re disgusting.”