Page 25 of Brutal Reign (Bratva Kings #3)

CHAPTER

TWENTY

HOPE

Marry me?

My brain scrambles, trying to make sense of his words, but they don’t compute.

“You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

Pavel shrugs, swinging open the door in front of us. “No one would argue with that.”

Stepping aside, he gestures toward the open doorway, expecting me to walk through it like this is all perfectly reasonable.

I shake my head, backing up a step into the hallway. “No, I’m not doing this. You can’t seriously think?—”

His hand slams against the wall beside my head, the other finding my hip as he leans in so our faces are inches apart.

“We’re getting married,” he says simply. “Try to run again, and I’ll chain you to me until the ceremony’s over. We’re not leaving this island without my ring on your finger.”

My heart thuds so hard it’s all I can hear. He’s serious; I can see it in his expression.

The weight of my secret presses down on my chest. Kin. Our son. The boy Pavel doesn’t know exists is somewhere in this mansion, hopefully still safe with Mei. I‘ll have to tell him I have a child eventually, but not until I understand his true motivations for marrying me.

What I’ll never reveal is that Pavel is Kin's father. Men like him care about bloodlines above all else, and if he discovers his son, he might take Kin away from me.

“Why?” I say, praying this is all a very bad dream. “This is about revenge, isn’t it? The ultimate power move: steal the Black Company heir on her wedding day and claim her for yourself. I’m a pawn in whatever game you’re playing.”

“If this was only about revenge, there are many other ways I could exact retribution and make Simon suffer. It’s about much more than that.

” His thumb traces my jawline with unexpected gentleness, sending an involuntary shiver through me.

I hate the way my body reacts to him. “Believe it or not, this is for your own good.”

“For my own good? Yeah, right. So you can do whatever the hell you want with me.”

“I could do that anyway,” he says with a small shrug. “I don’t need a ring to claim you. There’s nothing stopping me from doing exactly what I want to you right here, is there?” I swallow hard when his fingers drift from my jaw to trace the outline of my lips.

“The only person I need protection from is you! If you’re so worried about me, let me go, and I’ll hide somewhere far away where no one will ever find me. I already did it once before.”

“And how did that work out?” He lifts an eyebrow. It’s a reminder of how easily he found me. “You’re the daughter of Lai King. If it’s not the Syndicate after you, it’ll be Simon or another enemy. You’ll always be a hunted woman.”

My gut twists at the truth of his words. There really is no escape from who I am.

“Simon, you, the Syndicate—what’s the difference? I’m trapped either way.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. “You were sent to kill me. Just because you didn’t follow through doesn’t mean I will ever trust you.”

Pavel laughs, leaning in until his forearm braces against the wall above my head, his body forming a prison of heat and muscle around me.

Up close, I can see how the years have changed him.

He’s broader, more muscled, his jaw sharper, and his eyes harder.

The charming author I remember has been replaced by something infinitely more dangerous and stupidly attractive in a way that makes my pulse race.

Slowly, he wraps his big hand around my jaw. I’m forced to stare into his eyes. Eyes that I can so easily get lost in despite myself.

“I didn’t kill you, did I? I didn’t hurt you. In fact, I’ve done nothing but protect you, even after you stabbed me.”

“What?” I whisper, my body going completely still. “It was you? During the raid on the villa?” The man who spared me.

My mind flashes to our night together, and the scar on his back, the one I touched with trembling fingers. That was me. I did that to him.

I swallow hard, my voice catching in my throat. “Why?” I ask. “Why did you let me live?”

A question that I’ve asked myself many times over the years and have never been able to answer.

Pavel tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “That’s a story for another day. Someone’s waiting for us now.”

With that, his palm lands on the small of my back and nudges me forward into the room. I try to dig in my heels, but there’s no fighting him; he’s too big and powerful.

I don’t know what he plans to do with me, but if he wanted me dead, he had his chance and didn’t take it. The only thing that matters is staying alive for Kin.

My gaze drifts around the room. It looks like we’re in a sunlit study, with wood-paneled walls lined with books.

Everything else fades into the background when I notice a man tied to a chair near the far wall.

It’s the priest who was supposed to marry Simon and me.

The tape across his mouth muffles his words, but the panicked noises he makes are still audible.

I spin on Pavel. “You tied up the priest? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “I needed to be sure he wouldn’t run.”

Pavel takes my arm, leading me straight toward the poor man. With a flick of his wrist, he rips the tape off the priest’s mouth. He wheezes in a breath, blinking furiously, sweat glistening on his forehead.

He silently pleads for help, but I can only stare back. I'm just as helpless as he is.

“Marry us and do it quickly,” Pavel commands.

The priest nods and, despite the indignity of being tied to a chair, clears his throat. “We are g-gathered here?—”

“We all know why we’re here,” Pavel says with an impatient gesture. “Skip all the bullshit and get to the good part.”

With a small huff, the priest stammers through a condensed version of the vows. When it’s time for us to exchange rings, Pavel looks around the room until his eyes settle on the desk beside us.

He reaches for something, and presents me with a deep-red ribbon.

With surprising care, he lifts my left hand and wraps the ribbon around my ring finger. I let him put it on me because what else can I do? It’s only a ribbon, and I'll ditch it the first chance I get.

“Hope King,” the priest says. “Do you take Pavel Fedorov to be your husband?”

When the priest looks at me, I stare straight ahead. “No.”

He looks to Pavel in obvious panic.

“Say ‘I do,’” Pavel murmurs in my ear. “Or I’ll use that ribbon to tie you down right here and make you come on my face again and again in front of the priest. Seems rather sacrilegious, don’t you think?”

Even though his threat is obscene, goosebumps break out along my arms and heat spills through my veins. I have no doubt he’ll do what he says.

Through clenched teeth, I say the words he wants to hear. “I do.”

Pavel smirks. “And I fucking do too. Are we married yet?”

The priest looks at me apologetically and nods. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

“Hard pass,” I spit, but Pavel doesn’t wait for permission.

He grabs my waist and pulls me against him, using the element of surprise to his advantage. His fingers find my chin, tilting it for better access before his lips land on mine. I’m frozen at first, lips sealed tight, every part of me stiff with resistance.

But he keeps going, working his mouth over mine with all the confidence of a man who knows exactly how to unravel me. And God help me, he does.

His tongue finds mine and strokes it with slow, devastating purpose, like he knows exactly what buttons to push and he’s pressing every single one.

He tastes like heat and salt, and something else I can’t name or resist. My lips part wider, my treacherous body lighting up when he sucks on my lower lip, dragging it between his teeth.

My body sways forward, even as my brain screams at me to stop.

When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless… and full of self-loathing. “And so you know,” I hiss, trying to salvage some dignity. “I’ll never consider this marriage real.”

And I’ll never stop planning my escape.

His smirk is maddening. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve been mine for a long time. I finally made it official.”

My pulse races. But I know better than to believe his pretty words. Pavel has already proven himself to be a master manipulator.

“Someone will come for you… eventually,” he tells the priest, before his eyes settle on me. “Gather anything you need. We’re leaving this island.”

My gut twists into knots. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” he says as if that’s a helpful answer. A man as rich and powerful as him probably has multiple homes across the globe.

Before I can register what’s happening, he’s pressing the comms in his ear and speaking in rapid Russian, preparing for our departure.

A part of me was desperately hoping I wouldn’t have to reveal Kin’s existence, that I’d find some way to slip away before it came to this. But since escape is obviously impossible, I need to tell him the truth before he hustles me onto a helicopter.

“No,” I say sharply. “Wait.”

He stops, turning toward me with that unnerving calm.

“There’s… someone else.” I take a shaky breath, gathering my courage. “My son. We can’t leave without him.”

The air goes still.

“A son,” he repeats, his eyes flashing with something dangerous. “You had a child with Simon?”

I could lie. It might throw him off the scent that Kin’s his. But what will he do to the child of his sworn enemy? Especially the one who got away? He’d surely use him as bait to lure Simon back.

I look him dead in the eyes. “He’s not Simon’s. We never?—”

“Then whose?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

His jaw tightens. “How old is he?”

I consider lying, but how can I? Kin knows his birth date, and it can easily be fact-checked.

“Four,” I say, offering no more details. My only saving grace is that Kin doesn’t look like Pavel. He looks like me, except for his bright blue eyes.

He’s silent, but the way he looks at me makes me wonder if he’s trying to calculate possibilities I pray he never figures out.

Softer than I expect, he asks, “Where is he?”

“Upstairs. Hiding with his nanny.” I hope.

I brace for his cold dismissal, the too-bad look, the ruthless practicality I know men like him are capable of. I steel myself for a fight, because no matter what happens, I won’t leave Kin behind.

But he surprises me.

“Let’s go get your son.”