Page 4 of Cruel Russian Monster (Safin Bratva #2)

Shit! Shit! Shit!

I couldn’t believe I was stuck in a freaking U-Haul like a piece of goddamn furniture! I had long thrown the cap and wig to the ground.

I slammed my foot against the door again, but of course it didn't budge; it was solid metal. Just like the man driving.

My palms stung from beating against the walls, and my throat was sore as I desperately yelled to a world that had clearly decided to ignore me.

I was sweating and shaking, my breathing uneven from panic and adrenaline. I couldn’t stay trapped in here. I had to get out. Somehow.

But how? Jaroslav had my bag, which held my phone, my money, and credit cards.

Maybe I could talk to him and reason with him.

Like you talked and reasoned with him at the house? Good luck.

I had to at least try.

My legs trembled as I made my way to the front of the truck, toward the narrow slot that led to the cab. I banged on it and paused.

I knew he heard me. Of course he did. But the silence that answered made me want to scream. He was ignoring me on purpose, the bastard.

Five agonizing minutes and a sore fist later, the slit finally opened. My fingers latched onto the frame of the opening, and I caught a glimpse of his tense profile. His eyes met mine briefly in the rearview mirror before refocusing on the road.

“Let me guess,” he said sarcastically. “You need to use the bathroom?”

I sighed. “No. I just want us to talk.”

“About what?” His tone was detached, but it carried an edge to it.

“I’m sure we can both come up with a solution to what's going on,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. “We can work on it together. Something that helps both factions.”

His jaw twitched. “I already have a solution. Why do you think you're here? To drink wine and eat cheese?”

“If I'm part of the solution, then I deserve to know what the plan is.”

“So you can run off like you did with Lev?” he shot back. “Not happening.”

I tried not to snap at him, barely.

I forced my voice to soften. You catch flies with honey, not vinegar and all that.

“We’ve always been able to talk about things in the past. Why can’t we do the same thing now?”

Suddenly, the truck screeched to a halt. My forehead slammed into the metal wall, and the world spun.

I heard Jaroslav swear under his breath as I sank to the floor. I leaned against the wall, head tilted to the side, and closed my eyes, hoping the dizziness would pass soon.

“Vera, are you okay?”

Jaroslav’s voice didn't come from the cab; it was right in front of me. The tenderness in his voice made my heart flutter.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, watching the concern flicker in his.

“I’ll be okay,” I whispered.

As I sat there with him crouched in front of me, I saw it: the slight change in his breathing, the shift in his eyes, from blank to growing desire. He lifted his hand to my face, then dropped it abruptly.

He started to stand, but I reached out and held his arm. He froze at my touch.

“Jaroslav,” I said gently, as my thumb rubbed circles on his arm. “Please, if you've ever loved me, let's talk about this amicably. Let's find a solution.”

Every ounce of tenderness that was in Jaroslav's eyes vanished like fog on a hot day.

“ If I ever loved you?” he spat bitterly. “And where did this sudden urge to talk come from? You didn't want to talk to me when you walked out on us, Vera. You didn't want to find a solution then. So now, you don't get a say.”

He yanked his arm free and stood. He stepped out of the U-Haul and slammed the door shut. Seconds later, the engine roared to life, and the partition slot slid closed with a snap.

I pulled my knees to my chest, my heart cracking open in my ribcage. He hated me. He truly hated me.

Once upon a time, he would have crossed oceans just to see me smile. Now? His veins ran black with spite.

Can you blame him?

I couldn’t bend him to my will with soft words and tender touches.

I had sealed my own fate. And now I had to pay the Pied Piper.

Maybe…if I had gone to Delaware back then, if I had shown up at the hotel, if I had told him that I knew who he was and told him who I was…

Just maybe, we would've had a chance.

Maybe we’d be happily married now, our marriage uniting our families.

But that man, the one I fell in love with, was gone.

Murdered by my own hands.

But I couldn’t afford to mourn him. Not when he’d made it so clear with his actions: he was here for payback.

It hurt. God, it burned to realize how deeply I’d wounded him. That my hands that once held him, caressed him, were now stained with his blood.

But whatever existed between us once was dead. And when something died, you buried it.

The man driving that U-Haul wasn’t my Jaroslav. And he sure as hell didn’t deserve my tears or my memories.

What I needed to do was adapt to this man.

Because a different man meant a different strategy.

One thing Jaroslav may have forgotten—he wasn't the only one of us who was born and raised in a Bratva family.

He wasn't the only one who knew how to strategize and execute a plan.

He wasn't the only one who knew how to hide his cards well until the last possible second to gain the upper hand.

I'd become exactly who I needed to become, pretending to be what he needed to see. And when the time was right, I'd escape his clutches. The third time would be the charm.

A small smirk tugged at my lips.

Let the games begin, Jaroslav. Let the games begin.

Fifteen minutes later, the U-Haul stopped, and the door slammed. I stood as the outer latches clicked open.

I moved toward the door, and before I stepped out, Jaroslav reached in and gripped my hand firmly. I ignored the goosebumps that raced up my arm.

We were on a private airstrip.

He didn't say anything, just guided me toward a small jet.

At the top of the stairs, a flight attendant greeted us with a smile.

“Good evening, Mr. Safin. Good evening, ma’am.”

Jaroslav gave a nod and led me to the back.

He sat me by the window and took the seat beside me.

“Buckle up,” he said, flatly.

I fastened my belt and turned silently toward the window.

Fifteen minutes later, we were airborne.

I closed my eyes and began to mentally prepare for whatever was coming next.

Seven hours later, we were back in Philadelphia. Jaroslav sat beside me in the SUV while his driver, Tomas, handled the wheel. We drove in silence.

When Tomas pulled into the parking lot of Father Gordon’s church, I shot Jaroslav a confused look.

If you wanted a Bratva wedding, Father Gordon was your man. He didn’t ask questions, minded his business, and got paid and protected for it.

I’d imagined a hundred moves Jaroslav might make…but none of them started or ended with Father Gordon.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.

Jaroslav didn’t answer until Tomas parked and stepped out. Then he turned to me.

“Seeing as we’re at a church, the only educated guess is”—his eyes darkened—“we’re here to get married.”

“What? Are you crazy?” I shrieked. “This is your solution?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not marrying you. So you’d better think of another one.”

He smirked and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. I clenched my jaw and swallowed hard.

“Vera,” he said quietly, “do you really think you have a choice?”

“I do!” My eyes flared. “Why would I marry a man I have a terrible history with? Whom I hate, and who hates me back?”

“You and I both know what we had wasn’t terrible.” He let the corner of his mouth lift in that damn smile…the one that always turned my knees to mush.

Jaroslav's naked body pressed against mine flashed through my mind, his eyes dark with desire as he hovered over me, his erection nestled in my wet pussy, our gazes locked. The emotions that came with the memory slammed into my chest like a damn wrecking ball. My pulse spiked.

Shit.

Get it together, Vera! Now is not the time.

“Besides,” he said nonchalantly, “when you and Lev were arranged to be married, it wasn’t for love. Like him, I’m marrying you for leverage.”

“Are you serious? We’re not even compatible! The marriage is going to suck!”

“I don’t care if it sucks,” he said. His lips curled into a smile, but his eyes were dead. “As long as I get what I want. With you, a precious Rykov sister, folded into the Safin faction, let’s see if Artyom keeps up this little war of his. Let’s see how much he really cares about your safety.”

I laughed bitterly. “You think I’m just going to walk into that church, marry you, and become your pawn?

You’re insane. This is Philadelphia. What makes you think I can’t walk out of this car, start screaming that you kidnapped me, and have someone hear?

Word will get back to Artyom. You thought he was bad before?

First Lev, now you? He’ll burn this entire faction to the ground, and take your life with it. ”

His smile broadened. I didn’t expect that, and I knew it wasn’t a good sign.

“I’m so glad you mentioned he’d take our lives. I'm glad that at least our thinking is somewhat on the same level.”

Jaroslav pulled out his phone, dialed a number, then held it out for me to hear.

A deep Russian voice came through on the other end.

“Mr. Safin.”

“Is the target in sight?”

My blood ran cold. Target?

“Ms. Kira Rykov is in sight. I’m ready to take her out on your command.”

“No….” The word barely left my lips before Jaroslav ended the call.

“So, Vera. Here’s what's going to happen. We’ll walk in there quietly, get married, sign the certificate, and you’ll come back to my place. If not, you’ll be one sister short.” His voice was cold.

I stared at him, stunned. “If you kill Kira, her death won't only affect me. It will affect Katya as well.”

He shrugged, unconcerned. “Katya will miss her, sure. But seeing as she only just realized they’re siblings, she’ll bounce back. In case you've forgotten, I have two amazing sisters.

“Kira will be mourned for nine days, maybe talked about a little longer. After that? She'll just be another name Katya won't remember. That’s how the world works, Vera.”

My blood turned to ice.

“But you…” He leaned closer, his index finger curled under my chin, lifting my head to meet his gaze. His voice was soft, but a hint of cruelty laced his next words. “Can you survive knowing Kira died because of you?”

He let that linger.

“Then again, the ex you left me for…he’ll be there to console you. Maybe even keep you warm at night.”

I removed my head from his touch, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply.

I couldn’t let Kira die. Not for a mess I created.

My eyes shot open, and I glared at Jaroslav, and he returned it.

For now, I’d play the role.

But if he thought I’d be his obedient little wife?

He had another thing coming.

I’d make him regret ever putting a ring on my finger.