Page 5 of Forced Bratva Hostage (Dubrov Bratva #15)

She won’t stop fighting me, even though she’s pinned down and barely able to move. She’s shouting over the priest and making a huge noise, wiggling and squirming in my grip. Does she ever give up? Can’t she see that all of the effort she’s putting in is wasted energy?

The priest is uncomfortable.

I should have warned him she might be difficult.

But I thought the amount I was paying him, four times the usual rate, would be indication enough of the type of situation he was walking into.

It’s not the first time he’s done a mafia-arranged marriage, according to the guy who recommended him.

But from where I’m standing, he looks like this is all new to him.

It’s new to me, too.

All I know is that I need her to sign the documents, and I need a witness to confirm that it was all legit.

But I did not expect it to be this difficult.

She kicks out, and the priest has to dodge, narrowly missing her attack.

“Um, Andrei, she isn’t—"

“I told you it doesn’t matter. Just finish this already. Get it over with. The faster you do this, the faster you can leave.” I snarl, starting to get impatient.

He nods again and flicks forward on his notes to get to the good part. Finally.

“Do you, Andrei Volo, take this woman, Tatiana Enzo, to be your lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold—"

“I do.” I snap, grabbing her wrist as she claws at my face. Her long nails almost reaching my eye.

“Oh. Ok. Um. Do you, Tatiana Enzo, take this man, Andrei Volo—"

“ Are you fucking insane. I’m not going to say yes ,” she screams.

I clamp my hand around her throat, squeezing hard enough to let her know I’m not fucking around anymore. I have patience, but she’s testing it in ways I didn’t know were possible.

“Yes, you will ,” I growl against her ear as I cut off her ability to breathe. I wait, watching her eyes glimmer with tears. Counting. Then I release my grip. She gasps and takes several sharp, panicked breaths.

This time, when the priest asks if she agrees, she says yes.

The ceremony comes to an end, and the priest glances towards the crisp white pages on the kitchen counter. “She has to sign,” he says tensely, not looking at Tatiana. “Her and the witness.”

“She’ll sign,” I snarl, digging my fingers into her side. I move her and pin her against the counter.

She whimpers, but she’s still tense in my arms from the last warning. Tatiana takes the pen from the priest’s hand, and when he points to the page, she writes her name in elegant cursive across the blank space.

“Good girl,” I whisper in her ear, pulling the pen from her shaking hand.

I scrawl my signature next to hers.

It’s official.

We are married. Husband and wife.

I am aware that a marriage under duress is not legally binding, but my witness will attest that she did this by choice. And so will the priest if he knows what's good for him. And at the end of the day, this entire shit show was more for her sake than anything else.

Yes, I want my rivals and allies to think we are married.

It will play a role in my plan at a later stage.

But for now, what’s important is for her to understand that I am in control of everything.

This is her first lesson . She has no say.

She has no rights. She belongs to me, and I will do whatever the hell I want with her.

The thought stirs my cock. She is still locked against my chest with her ass pressing into me.

Mm. All of that adrenaline is still coursing through my blood, but turning into desire instead of frustration.

But we aren’t alone. And this wasn’t the plan.

I look at the priest. “I trust the payment is enough to keep this entire thing between us? No one else needs to know about her reluctance ?”

He nods.

“You can go, then.”

He doesn’t waste a second, grabbing his things, he rushes out of the cabin without a single word.

I don’t move.

She’s still pressed between me and the kitchen counter, her back against my chest.

Leaning down, I sniff her hair, letting it fall between my fingers as I run them through the silky chocolate curls. She smells like a woman. Sweet, soft, and delicate.

I don’t realize how distracted I am until her elbow slams into my ribs.

The low, deep rumble of laughter that rolls through me seems to upset her. “Get off me, you asshole ,” she snaps, trying to push away from the counter to free herself.

I step back, pulling her along for the ride.

“Well, wife, we can go home now.”

“What, this shithole isn’t your home? But it suits you. A filthy hermit living out in the middle of the forest, smelly and wild—" She turns in my arms and looks up at me, but when our eyes meet, her words cut off. She takes a sharp breath, blinking. Her lips part.

“Um,” she murmurs, dragging her eyes away from mine.

“Um, indeed,” I smirk.

The drive to the mansion is easier than the drive to the cabin. I have her cuffed in the backseat. She’s sulking, but not fighting—for the moment, anyway. Perhaps she’s exhausted herself earlier.

We drive through the security gates into my estate, and the guards nod in greeting.

When I glance in the rearview mirror, I see surprise on her face.

Her brows are knotted as she stares at the mansion.

One night at the cabin has clearly thrown her off.

She made assumptions about me and who I am.

Good. I like the fact that she’s out of her depth. In the unknown.

She wasn’t expecting this; even though she would be used to luxurious properties, living the life she’s lived, she didn’t anticipate that her stay with me would be like that.

I tug the back door open and reach inside. She tries to shift away from me, but I grab her wrist and slide her across the seat towards me.

When she realizes I’m going to undo the cuffs, she’s suddenly very cooperative. “This estate is surrounded by guards, cameras, and fencing. There are dogs and security guys patrolling the outside perimeter as well. Don’t bother trying to escape.”

“Are you going to tell me what I’m doing here?” she sasses.

“Mm. No, I can’t say I feel the need to explain anything to you. Follow me.” I turn and walk away from the car.

Two guards move close, keeping an eye on her.

When I glance back, she is following, despite the angry scowl etched on her forehead. She looks cute when she’s so mad. A sly grin touches my lips.

Inside the house, the servants line up as they have been told to do upon her arrival.

Tatiana stands at my side as I introduce her to each of them.

“This is Maggie, Edgar, Lennie and Lisa. If you need anything, you can ask them. Food, clothes, whatever.”

To my surprise, she greets each of them politely. This is the first time I’ve ever seen her be nice to anyone. But the moment doesn’t last long.

After they say their hellos, they leave to continue with their work, and she has the same sour look on her face again.

“I’ll show you the bedroom,” I say, waving my hand for her to walk with me, but she hesitates. I’m impatient and have other things to do, so I take her hand and pull her forward.

Outside her bedroom, standing in the doorway, I gesture with my chin towards her bed.

“You’ll sleep here. In the closet, you’ll find a selection of clothing in your size, along with a few other things I thought you might need.

There is a bathroom through that door to the left.

Every single window is barred; you can’t get out, so please don’t annoy me by trying.

” I speak with my eyes piercing into her, trying to make her understand that I don’t have time for games or bullshit.

She steps into her room and looks around. “This is my room?”

“Yes,” I sigh.

“I’m not sharing with—um—anyone?” she raises her brows.

“No, Tatiana, this is your room. Why the fuck would you be sharing with someone?” I growl.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all,” she hisses defensively.

“I thought you were going to make me share your bed and sleep with you just like you forced me to marry you, force me to bear your children like the fucking caveman you are.” She is feisty and rude, and I love the trace of anger I hear in her voice.

Stepping close to her, I pin her against the open door. She lets out a sharp breath of surprise as I press my body to hers and my hand on the door above her head.

“Why, do you want me to do that?” I whisper darkly, smirking.

Her mouth drops open as she screams in horror and pushes me away. I let her, stepping back and giving her space.

“You’re a savage,” she shouts as she grabs the door and slams it closed, leaving me standing outside her bedroom, grinning in amusement at her reaction.

My body is tingling with delight as a streak of desire pulses through me.

She’s a lot fun to tease, and such a hot little mess.

I bet she’s a firecracker in bed. My smile widens.

But suddenly I realize what I’m doing.

I’m smiling because I’m enjoying this.

I’m not supposed to be enjoying this. She’s not here for fun or laughter or entertainment.

She is the key to my entire plan for revenge.

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter, angry with myself for getting so distracted. Distractions lead to mistakes, and I can’t afford to make any mistakes if I want to avenge my friend’s murder.

Stop being a fucking idiot, Andrei.

I storm off to my bedroom. I need a shower and a fresh change of clothes. I need to reset my thoughts and my focus and get back on track.

She’s here.

We’re married.

The next step can begin.

***

In the bedroom, I mutter to myself about what just happened.

It’s been ages since I was attracted to anyone.

Girls come and go, but I have had very little interest in pursuing anything with anyone. I had work to do, friends, business, a life—the idea of being in a relationship was not interesting enough.

It still isn’t.

I’m married purely for a purpose.

As soon as this is over, she can leave. She can do whatever she wants. I have no intention of hurting her—only her brother, who I want nothing more than to see suffer.

The moment his life is snuffed from this world, my revenge will be complete.

Stepping under the hot shower, my skin turns red as the heat pours over me. I sigh loudly, leaning forward and letting the water run down my back.

I have a few meetings set up, and I expect some commotion when I suddenly come out of hiding.

I’m sure word will spread quickly enough. People have been looking for me. Grig’s brothers and their associates might try and contact me.

I thought about including them in my plans, but I don’t know whom I can trust. It’s easier to just do it myself.

Soap runs down my body, and while I scrub my skin, I think about her, trapped in that room.

I wonder what she’s doing. She must be asleep after all the energy she’s used up over the past two days—she’s so feisty.

I should make sure the staff takes her some food, though. She’s no good to me if she starves.

After the shower, I am refreshed and less agitated. I hadn’t realized just how much she’d managed to get under my skin, to take up space in my thoughts. She was just meant to be a tool, and she became the entire focus.

But now I can get back to work.

I’ve got so much to do.

Standing in the middle of my room, I smile, staring out over Boston. It’s good to be back.

It’s good to be out of hiding.

And now it’s time to start some shit.