Page 20 of Brutal Monster (Zhukov Bratva #2)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

INEZ

I stare at my reflection, looking like a stranger wearing white. The wedding dress feels like armor, heavy with expectations.

"Hold still," My assistant, Carla, says, pinning something into my hair. "Perfect." She flew in late last night from Mexico City with my gown in hand, fresh from the dressmaker.

I don't feel perfect. I feel like I'm balancing on a knife's edge, waiting for the blade to slip. I no longer fear or dread marrying Vanya. He’s not only good for the security of my family’s empire–he’s good for me.

We’ve fallen in love in such a short time, and I believe with all my heart this is how things were meant to be.

Yet, I can't shake the feeling of impending disaster.

The door opens. Lucia, my security chief, slips in, her face tight with an expression I know too well. She's bringing bad news wrapped in her typical professional restraint.

"Perimeter's re-secured," she says, voice low. "We've doubled security at all entrances."

"And?" I ask, because there's always more.

Lucia hesitates. "We can't confirm Adan's status."

The room goes silent. Carla's hands freeze in my hair.

"What do you mean you can't confirm?" My voice remains steady even as my pulse accelerates. "Dead or alive isn't complicated, Lucia."

"The team found blood at his last known location. A lot of it. But there was no body." Lucia shifts her weight. "Could be he bled out somewhere we haven't found him yet."

"Or could it be he's still breathing and planning to make my wedding memorable." I stand, the dress rustling like whispered threats. "Find him. Now."

Carla touches my shoulder. "Inez, your father is expecting you downstairs in twenty minutes."

"Then we have nineteen minutes to locate my step-brother." I grab my phone and scroll through the security feeds. "If Adan's alive, he won't miss this opportunity. Too much pride. Too much hate."

"I've got teams searching," Lucia says. "But he knows our protocols."

Of course he does. He helped write half of them before I took control. Before I became the thing he despises most—the woman who stole his birthright.

"The ceremony is about to start," I say, calculating. "We must find Adan or make absolutely certain this venue is impenetrable."

"You could postpone," Carla suggests quietly.

I meet her eyes in the mirror. "And show weakness? Never."

My wedding day. My alliance. My empire on display. I won't let Adan take this from me, too.

"Get me my gun," I tell Lucia. "The small one with the pearl handle."

"For your wedding?" Carla looks horrified.

I smile thinly. "Something borrowed, something blue, something to put a bullet through anyone who tries to stop this marriage."

This is the Bravo way. Even on the day I become a wife, I remain what I've always been first—a survivor.

I slide the pearl-handled gun into the hidden holster beneath my dress, the weight familiar against my thigh. A bride with secrets. A leader with steel.

"I'll go to him now," I tell them. "Keep searching."

The grand staircase stretches before me, a descent into my future. Each step deliberate and measured, the fabric of my gown whispering against the marble. Guards line the walls, eyes forward, hands ready. My people. My protection.

When I reach the bottom, I hear the hiss of the oxygen tank and the tap of the cane.

My father emerges from his study, each movement a battle against his failing body.

Juan Bravo, once the most feared man in three countries, now fights for each breath.

But his eyes—they remain unchanged. Sharp. Calculating. Proud.

"Inez." His voice rasps like sandpaper on stone. " Mija. "

I cross the room to reach him, careful not to move too quickly. His fragility is something neither of us acknowledges aloud. "Papá."

"You are..." He pauses, struggling for breath, the tank hissing beside him. "Magnificent."

The compliment lands like an unexpected blow. I blink, composure momentarily fractured. "Thank you."

He gestures toward his study with a trembling hand. "A moment. Before the circus begins."

Inside, the room smells of leather and medicine. My father lowers himself into his chair, the effort making his face gray beneath his tan. I remain standing, back straight, waiting. Always waiting for his judgment.

"They said I was a fool," he says finally. "Choosing you over Emilio. A daughter over a son. But I knew." His eyes lock with mine. "I always knew you were the one who would carry this family forward."

"Adan is missing," I tell him. No point in hiding it. "There was blood."

He nods, unsurprised. "He will come for you. Today, perhaps. Tomorrow, certainly."

"I'm ready."

"I know." A smile cracks his weathered face. "That's why I chose you. The empire— my empire —it needs your kind of strength now. Not Emilio’s rage or Adan’s cruelty. It needs your calculation."

The weight of his words settles on my shoulders alongside the heavy beading of my dress. "I won't fail you."

"You never have." He reaches for something in his desk drawer, movements painful to watch. "This was your mother's."

A small box appears in his shaking hand. Inside, a simple platinum band with a letter B spelled in emeralds.

I slip it onto my right hand, the metal cool against my skin. "A wedding gift?"

"A reminder." He takes a labored breath. "Even in your new alliance, remember—you are a Bravo first. My daughter. My legacy."

The door opens. Lucia stands there, face tight. "Sir. Ma'am. The groom has arrived."

My father struggles to his feet, refusing my offered hand. "Let me walk you down that aisle, Inez. Let them all see that Juan Bravo gives his empire to his daughter with pride."

I take his arm, feeling the tremor in his muscles, the determination in his grip. Together, we move toward the door, toward my future, toward the empire that will soon be mine alone to command.

And somewhere, perhaps watching even now, Adan waits with his wounds and his hatred. Let him come. Today I become a wife, but I've been a warrior much longer.