Page 5 of Bratva’s Stolen Bride (Obsessed Bratva Bosses #1)

PAYTON

I’ve never been on a plane. I haven’t drunk Champagne before. I’ve never seen anyone thinking about shooting a person. And most important of the fresh experiences, the way I feel with Feliks’ eyes on me is different to anything else.

The bubbles go straight to my head. Probably I shouldn’t accept anything from my captor, but he’s drinking too, and for some bizarre reason, I trust Feliks.

He could have taken advantage of me, he could have hurt me, he could have just left me to be a victim of whatever Ivan is doing, but he hasn’t.

He’s scary, but something about him calls to a wisp of darkness I wasn’t aware was inside me.

The flight attendant gives me a safety talk, impressing on me the importance of the seatbelt and pointing out the exits, as well as alarming things like what to do if the cabin depressurises. But I’m distracted by Feliks making a phone call.

“Find and secure Ivan,” he says, taking a slug of Champagne, then slides his gaze over to me and our eyes meet. He scowls, switches to Russian, and rattles off more instructions, not even pretending to listen to the safety briefing.

He continues on the phone all the way until the plane starts moving, when he shuts it off.

Then before I know it, I’m mesmerised by watching out of the window as we pick up speed.

I’m pushed back in my seat, and then my tummy flips as we tilt upwards and then soar smoothly up, the ground dropping away.

Everything below shrinks as we fly into the air.

The runway is quickly out of sight, then there’s a patchwork of fields and little houses, tiny toy cars on ribbons of grey.

It’s a new perspective. I don’t think I’ve seen a take-off on television, but even if I had, it wouldn’t compare to the weight of my body being swooped up with the aircraft and the buzzing in my veins.

A wisp flies past the window, then another. Then we break up into clouds, and I do something ridiculous, like gasp. There’s pressure bubbling out of my ears, then they do this weird clicking pop, and I’m fine again. Outside, it’s pure white, as though the plane is wrapped in cotton wool.

I blink.

I knew clouds weren’t solid. But even so, I’m amazed by cutting into the white blanket hanging over London.

Unreal.

I’m about to turn away, when as quickly as we plunged into the cloud, we break out, the sun blinding. We’re above the white fluff that looks soft and firm, as though you could bounce on it, the most comfortable mattress in the world.

“Flying for the first time is special.” Feliks’ voice snaps me out of my obsession.

“How did you know?” I ask, though it’s obvious, I suppose. How could I have flown anywhere before? With what money?

I try to sit up and be cool. Maybe even summon a bit of anxiety over the fact I don’t have my phone, don’t know where we’re going, and have been kidnapped by my ex-boyfriend’s father who nearly killed someone earlier.

He gazes at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then at last murmurs, “You have stars in your eyes.”

“Sorry,” I say reflexively.

His brows lower. “Never apologise for enjoying something that doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

Oh. Oh, that’s… Okay. I guess I often feel guilty about lots of things. Selling the gifts from Ivan for starters, or anytime I’m reading instead of studying, because I know how important it is to Hayley that I get a good education.

I glance out of the window again, and the sunshine above the clouds really is amazing. It’s been there all along, even when I’ve been on the ground, in the drizzly London rain.

All it took was for Feliks to bring me up here.

“Where are we going?” I look back at Feliks, because compelling as the view is, he has my curiosity piqued more.

“My private island, south-west of London.”

Another infuriatingly vague answer. “And how long will it take for us to get there?”

“Long enough for you to have your fill of cloud-watching, and have a nap as well. And there are films you can watch if you get bored of looking out of the window.”

My excitement must show on my face, because Feliks laughs indulgently. He shows me the personal mini-screen that pops out of the arm rest, and gives me headphones for it.

There are recent releases, and games, and this massive leather seat is actually really comfy.

I alternate watching a romcom I wanted to see at the cinema but couldn’t afford to, and the view from the window.

By the time the cloud clears to reveal the ground again, we’re over the ocean, and it’s endless blue.

Feliks sits beside me, his arm draped onto our shared armrest and though there’s plenty of space, I don’t know why, but I have to put my arm there too. So we’re almost brushing sleeves.

I lose track of time, because the flight attendant brings drinks—I don’t have any more Champagne, but I had enough to make me light-headed and not as worried as I should be—and snacks, and what turns out to be a seven course lunch that we eat in comfortable silence, Feliks working on a laptop, and me watching a second film.

The stewardess shows me to a toilet with a full shower that’s bigger than the one in Hayley’s and my rented house, and a bedroom.

But I’m not tired. So it’s only after that, when I really can’t eat any more food, and I’ve tried all the games that interest me and read the descriptions of half the movies available, that I begin to get bored, curious, and a bit anxious.

“Why have you kidnapped me?” I take the earbuds out and ask my captor.

Feliks sighs and puts his laptop away, turning to look at me. “I told you.”

That Ivan was dangerous, and a threat. I chew my lower lip as I think. “But you said you were going to go and sort out Ivan?”

I don’t say murder, even though I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant.

Feliks grits his teeth, and I wait.

Nope. Nothing.

“Truth or dare,” I say on impulse. The Champagne really must have gone to my head.

“You really are twenty-one, aren’t you?” he drawls, leaning back in his seat and regarding me with a wry expression.

“Yes,” I reply promptly. “I’ll take that as your first truth question, now I get one. How old are you?”

He has more grey than black in his hair, and he’s Ivan’s dad, so obviously he’s older than me, but I want to know how much.

He huffs with laughter. “Twice your age plus twice the number of babies I accidentally fathered when I was your age.”

“Uh…” He has Ivan, but does he have any other children? And is that jealousy of whoever he loved when I was a baby? Wild. I’m losing my mind.

“Forty-four.” He has a wry tilt to his mouth.

Oooohhh. I know it’s totally inappropriate, but I find it hot that he’s so much older than me. But given I’m still coping with my terrible response to being kidnapped, manhandled, and seeing him pull a gun on a person who was very annoying, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

“Why did you hire a PI to look for your sister?” he asks after a second.

“We’re not doing dares?” I reply.

He raises one totally unimpressed eyebrow.

“No, no, okay.” I force my breath out between my teeth. I asked for this. “Taylor disappeared from London, well, from somewhere in Russia, we think?—”

“She what ?” Feliks’ expression has gone hawk-like.

“She’s a ballerina. We were all in care after our mother died, and she was sent to this awesome ballet school in London,” I explain.

“In Richmond, yes.” Feliks nods for me to continue.

“She said she had an even better opportunity, and then she just stopped communicating.” I shrug. The hurt is familiar now, but I still miss Taylor. “Hayley—my other sister, she’s the eldest—tried to get the police involved, and she searches for Taylor herself. But it…”

I shake my head, unable to explain how the police didn’t take our concerns seriously until it was too late, and the trail had gone totally cold.

“Girls from care are an easy target, and not high priority,” he grits out.

“That’s about it.” My fingertips trace the leather of our joint armrest, and for a second, he shifts, and the backs of our hands touch. A brief moment, there and gone, that sends electricity down my spine. But when I look up into Feliks’ face there’s nothing but compassion.

“All my life, I’ve been the baby, the one cared for and protected by my sisters.

” I don’t know why I explain more. He didn’t ask, but I’m compelled to tell him.

“I’ve wanted to stand on my own feet, to contribute, and Ivan’s gifts that I could sell to help without having to spend hours more working was too good to say no to.

Ivan was the one who pursued me and gave me gifts, not the other way around. ”

Feliks nods. “You said the PI found her ballet troupe?”

“Maybe. That’s why I kept on with Ivan even when…” I didn’t want to be his girlfriend anymore, even before we argued about the “gifts”. But how could I stop?

“He made you uncomfortable,” Feliks fills in after a moment of silence from me.

“Yes. But it’s a long shot.” I’ve kind of given up hope of finding Taylor, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.

There’s a sad silence, and maybe talking about Taylor has given me the feeling I’ve nothing left to lose, as I turn in my seat, and square my shoulders, and ask what’s been bothering me since the limo ride.

“You implied that Ivan was involved in something worse than drugs. What’s going on?”