Page 14 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

LUKA

G abriella was happy.

She wouldn’t admit it. That would be too much of an allowance for me.

But I saw it.

Since I showed her the studio that I’d ordered to be built for her, she was there all the time. When she wasn’t near me to eat with me and be civil, accompanying me to meals, she was dancing. If she wasn’t sleeping, she was dancing.

Giving her that studio was the ultimate reward for me, too. Because while a big question mark loomed about what I’d do with her, it felt too damn good to know I’d given her this.

Her passion only grew. And when I sought private instructors to come and give her lessons, she seemed more content than ever before. Vetting the instructors had been Allen’s task, and once I witnessed the professionalism they exercised, I trusted the situation.

Watching Gabriella open up as a dancer was a beautiful thing to experience. She was still guarded with me. Even with Emil, Ivan, and Alexsei when they joined us for meals. But it was so clear that dance was how she truly expressed herself.

Every night, I was beholden to watch her and see with my own eyes how her skills improved, how she executed her moves more precisely under the private lessons.

After a month of these private lessons, even I could witness and track her progress and improvement.

She wasn’t frilly or girly. Strictly a studious athlete under these instructors, she excelled.

It was an expression of art, which could’ve been surprising with how hard her life had been so far.

More and more, she talked with me. I had to ask. I had to initiate the conversations, but she was sharing now. About how her mother passed away. How Miguel was never there for her. How she fell in love with dancing.

One night, after she said she’d had enough in the studio, she walked with me toward my private wing of the house. While I enjoyed her softening toward me as much as she had been, I still wondered how to get that smile from her.

“What would you say if I arranged a private audition for you?”

She stopped short and grabbed my arm. I looked down at her fingers on my sleeve, then slowly dragged my gaze up to her face. She had no clue what it did to me when she initiated a touch like that.

“What?”

I nodded. “I could do that.”

She tilted her head to the side. “As in you could pay off someone to give me an audition?” She shook her head quickly. “No. Nope. I don’t want to be— No. You can bribe someone to pretend to let me audition. Then bribe someone to just give me a part. I want to earn a spot on the stage—any stage.”

“Then earn it.” I smiled at her stubbornness, her earnest desire to work for what she wanted. “I can arrange the audition, but you have to go through with it.”

She gawked at me and almost smiled. “You’d do that?”

I nodded.

“You have connections like that?”

“I have all kinds of connections.” Or I’d make them. Money did grease the wheels that made the world go round.

Still, she was hesitant. I urged her to walk again, ready to call an end to this long day of being in the office, checking on some things in the field, and then dealing with more headaches that came with running multiple businesses.

Those parts were the same old. But coming here to see Gabriella dancing was my secret vice.

“You’d do that for me ?” She asked.

Fuck. She was still too nervous to trust me. I sighed heavily as I opened the doors to my private wing.

“I’m hesitant to believe it. To trust that you’d want to do this for me out of, I don’t know, the goodness of your heart. If you have one.”

I shot her a look. One she returned in kind.

“I’m serious. I never know how to read you or interpret what you do. I’m warning you…”

I snatched her by the waist, pushing her against the wall to cage her in as I laughed. “You’re warning me?” Pulling her close, I stared her down and wondered how she’d react if I just decided the hell with it and kissed her. If she’d ever been kissed before. If she?—

Stop.

I was getting too carried away with these damn thoughts and moments of desire.

“Yes.” She tipped her head up and gave me an indignant, smug expression that made me laugh more. “I’m warning you not to play games with me.”

“Oh, really?” I stepped into her space, wedging my leg between hers.

I didn’t miss how her breath hitched. I sure as fuck didn’t miss how she put her hands on my chest. The sparkle of lust in her eyes was obvious too.

But so was her inexperience. She frowned, almost as if she were confused about how to follow through.

“Do I need to remind you that I can do whatever I want with you?”

She stared at my lips and furrowed her brow. “I think you’ve made that point perfectly clear.”

“Hmm-mmm.” I pushed my hips against hers, fighting back a growl at how she jumped and curled her fingers into the fabric of my shirt.

“Does that mean…” She drew in a deep breath and lifted her gaze to mine. “Does that…?”

I waited, watching her closely and wondering how I could be this much of a saint to endure not taking what I wanted. “Go on.”

“Does this mean that you do want to play games with me?” she asked.

“I don’t play , Gabriella.” I leaned in to whisper into her ear, “I just take. I take what I want.”

And right now, I want you.

Pressing a light kiss to the skin near her ear, I waited for her reaction.

She sagged, arching both into me and against the wall. She sighed, letting out such a swoony sound of need. And she didn’t protest.

Instead, she turned her head as if to seek my lips for a real kiss.

Perhaps her first.

She’s too young. She won’t know how to do anything. On the tails of those thoughts that should’ve been enough to scare me away, I got hooked on the idea of being the one to show her. To teach her.

“Bullshit,” she whispered, still defiant despite how rattled and shaken she was.

I saw the desire in her eyes. I heard the need in her short breaths.

She was just as attracted to me as I was to her.

And she had to be wondering—confused and reluctantly disappointed—why I wasn’t making more of a move on her.

“You don’t only take . You gave me that dance studio. ”

I laughed once, stepping away from her and grabbing her hand to escort her the rest of the way back to her room. The space between us was jarring, but it almost worked to clear my mind. If I wanted to take this path with her, I had to be sure I could give her up after I’d had her.

“I’m shocked that you haven’t reminded me that I also took you.”

She smirked. “And I’m shocked that you haven’t reminded me that I’m yours to own.”

She said that as a parting shot. Letting go of my hand, she turned toward her room, but not without one last look over her shoulder. A look that suggested she was wondering why I might not act on making her mine in every way that counted, like the most intimate closeness two people could share.

A closeness where we’d be one as we fucked—with me deep inside her and claiming her not as my captive, not as a thing to possess and lock up, but as my woman, as my lover.