Page 3 of Bratva’s Stolen Bride (Obsessed Bratva Bosses #1)

PAYTON

He holds the knife steady at my throat even as his cock lengthens and thickens further under my hand.

My pulse flutters, and I’m more alive than I’ve ever felt.

My ex-boyfriend’s dad is hard. Or rather, he’s getting an erection as I watch, swelling in a way I knew happened to men—theoretically—but have never seen. I didn’t imagine it would be so quick, or make my tummy flip with excitement.

It’s not just how he’s reacting to me, it’s the power of it. Because I can see on his face the tussle of emotions, and almost… Fear?

He can’t be afraid of me. I’m nothing.

But with his sensitive, hard cock clasped beneath my fingers, even with the fabric between us, I feel powerful. Like I’m in control, not him.

He has a knife to my throat, but his erection balances it out.

“You want to escape that much, lisichka?” I don’t understand the Russian word, but this is hardly the moment to ask.

“Yes.” I swallow and grip the key harder, but it’s a lie. Getting it was instinct, and touching him a rash way to get the upper hand, but now I’m staring up into this man’s face, it feels like an excuse.

I want him to be strong enough to subdue every bratty tendency in me. To take me and make me his.

Is this a normal reaction to possible death?

I’m going to assume yes, since it’s never happened to me before, I can’t ask anyone, and I don’t think the internet would help me even if I had my phone to search.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, and presses the blade closer, his words rough with his Russian accent.

It’s entirely messed up that he’s hard, I’m trying to flee, and there’s the threat of him slitting my throat, but I’m hot between my legs. I’m turning to molten lava.

I’m excited in a way I didn’t realise was possible.

“Enough,” he growls and in one smooth action he takes the knife from my neck and sheaths it, then plucks the key from my hand.

Grabbing me underneath the arms, he lifts me as though I weigh nothing, dragging me over his thighs and setting me down next to him.

Shifting away, he subtly rearranges his trousers, so his erection is less noticeable.

I say less, because something that big is like smuggling a baseball bat.

“As I was saying,” he continues, as though the incident with the knife and his cock inches from my face didn’t happen, and it’s not quite a question. “You won’t see my son again, and you’re leaving London.”

Dominant and dictatorial. I glare at him. It’s a good thing I’m not in love with Ivan, because if I were, this would cause a major issue.

“How much do you know about what Ivan was doing?”

What’s the right answer here? I’m not sure. Which answer will keep me alive?

“Why?” I’m proud of how I sound. Far stronger than I feel on the inside.

He pointedly doesn’t look at me, and grits his teeth. In profile he’s even more gorgeous, the stubble of his defined jaw dark. I wonder how it would be on my skin? Would it hurt, like sandpaper?

I think I might enjoy that.

“Because you’re in danger. Ivan is…” But he trails off, not finishing the statement.

I curl into myself, because that sends a chill down my spine. Far too plausible. “Danger?”

“My son is in a lot of trouble, and is becoming…” He seems to choose his words carefully. “Erratic.”

“The money,” I say.

“What do you know about it?” he snaps, and turns towards me. Even sitting side by side—not touching now, he was careful to arrange that—he’s so much taller than me that I have to tilt my head up to look at him.

“Ivan gave me gifts and he…” Why do I find it shameful?

Feliks waits patiently, dark eyes steady on my face as it heats. It’s not great.

“He pursued me.” It doesn’t sound convincing, but it’s true. “Ivan wanted me to be his girlfriend, and he gave me presents until I agreed.”

I hate that I said yes.

“And you accepted,” he points out with the sort of emotionless tone that smacks of judgement.

“I sell the stuff online and use the money to contribute to the household with my sister. She works really hard, and she wants me to succeed at university, so she won’t let me work.

The jewellery, tech, clothes, and accessories he showered me with paid for decent tea bags, fresh fruit, and cheese.

” It’s pouring out, this truth. I can’t stop it, and Feliks looks stunned.

“I know the pressure gets a lot for her sometimes. Having food in the fridge to have a nice meal, and the occasional takeaway, has really helped.”

I pause.

“Like really, really, made life better for Hayley and me. And there was enough that I could pay for a private investigator to locate our other sister, Taylor. He’s made progress, too, discovering that she’s probably with an exclusive ballet display group that tours the world.

The PI just needs a bit more time to find where they are currently. ”

That’s why I couldn’t break up with Ivan, even though I wanted to. I couldn’t because the Love sisters stick together.

All it cost was my dignity, self-respect, and as it turns out, possibly my life.

He nods, and there’s a gleam in his dark eyes that I could swear is appreciation.

“And in return, you…” he says leadingly.

“I was his girlfriend.” I tilt my chin up. I have nothing to be ashamed of. My neck is stiff, like my body is reluctant to be as bold about this as my mind is, but I’m ignoring that. “He got my attention.”

And my god Ivan needs attention. He’s impossible.

“And your body.” Feliks’ gaze drops slowly down, then back up, assessingly.

My skin prickles with heat under his gaze.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” I’m pouting. “He had a kiss, and yesterday he said that wasn’t enough, and that unless I…” I’m blushing.

“Fucked him,” Feliks supplies matter-of-factly.

My throat goes dry. I glance out of the window, embarrassed. I don’t recognise the buildings but we’re near the outskirts of London now, judging by the peeks of fields and hills I can see on the horizon.

“Unless I did that, which would make me his proper girlfriend,” I continue, gaze fixed outside. “I would have to give back everything he said I’d bought from him but not paid for. But they were gifts,” I emphasise. “He said they were gifts.”

“And his behaviour over the last few weeks?” Feliks doesn’t even acknowledge my claim, and I can’t tell from his tone whether it’s because he believes me, or he doesn’t. But there’s something definite in his voice, as though either way, there’s no question in his mind.

“He’s been…” I hesitate as I think of Ivan’s more manic than usual laugh, the way he’s pushed me to go out with him and his friends when I said I didn’t want to, and how he’s been meaner, his grip on my arm painful when he held me. His jokes crueller, his expression harsher.

“Go on.” Feliks nods seriously.

“I think…” I’m going to get Ivan into trouble, and for all he and I used each other—me to continue receiving the presents he gave me, and him for my untouchable vibe and attractive body—I don’t want to cause trouble. “He might have been taking drugs?” I finish looking over at Feliks.

The corner of his mouth twitches up. “If that was all, you wouldn’t be here, lisichka.”

“What did he do?” My tummy flips. I’m not actually sure I want to know.

“You seem to have been a decoy for his other activities.”

What? What does that mean? As I open my mouth to ask, the limo takes a sharp turn, and we pull up to high metal chain-link gates that swing open for us. There’s concrete, and huge, curved-roof buildings.

An airfield.

“Why are we here?” I can see what an airfield is usually for, but this makes no sense. Feliks’ gaze locks onto a plane with a jagged black emblem on the tail, a set of steps out the side, and a couple with suitcases approaching from a car.

“To kill some people,” he growls.

What?!