Page 2 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva (Zolotov Bratva #14)

I frown as I stand before the wine rack and survey the large collection at The Dirty Goose.

Between the four of us, we need at least two bottles.

I try to remember what Tikhon likes. Was it Merlot?

Or did he prefer the Cabernet? I know what I like!

The Riesling. I’ve always been a white wine kind of girl.

Maybe I should make it three bottles? So all my brothers and I can have our pick?

God. I miss them so much. Ever since Viktor died from a heart attack, my brothers have gotten so busy with work.

They hardly ever come home, often traveling for days on end.

But tonight, I get to see them. Which is why today, I find myself selecting wine alone.

My car is parked a little away, since when I arrived, all the good spots nearby were taken.

I decide to grab a Merlot and a Cabernet to be safe, along with my Riesling.

I’m so excited for tonight. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen any of them—Tikhon, Andrei, or Alexey—all of them suddenly too busy with our family business.

They have no time to even get on regular phone calls!

But just this morning, my cook informed me that my brothers would be coming home tonight.

Which means I get to surprise them with wine and keep them up until the sun rises, until I’m all caught up on what’s happening in their lives.

Though, of course, I expect I’ll be the one doing most of the talking.

My brothers never talk about work for more than a few minutes. I’ll find it boring, they claim.

I pick up a bottle when I feel someone behind me, standing too close. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Well, look who we have here.” The voice is gravelly, creepy.

I turn to see a man with a sleazy smile on his face, flanked by four others.

“Excuse me,” I say, trying to step around him.

Another blocks my path. “You’re Arina Sokolov, aren’t you? The little sister.”

I wonder how he knows who I am. Is he from the restaurant industry? There’s something predatory in the way he says my name, something that already sets me on edge, and for some reason, I find it safer to pretend I’m someone else.

My heart stutters. “I think you’ve confused me with someone else.”

He laughs, and I suddenly notice them forming a circle around me. “Don’t be silly. We know exactly who you are.”

I clutch my purse tighter, feeling for my phone. “My brothers are expecting me.”

The first man places a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Of course they are. That’s why we’re here—to escort you.”

“I don’t need an escort.” I try to sound firm and shrug him off, but he only holds tighter.

“Your brothers would want us to treat you,” he insists, his eyes not leaving mine. “We’re friends of the family.”

Suddenly, I know I’m in danger. My family doesn’t have friends like these. I think of screaming, but the store attendants all seem to be looking away, as though they’re afraid of these guys.

Maybe I should be, too.

“I…I have to go, really,” I say with a smile and break free from under his hand. I’m about to make a run for it when one of the guys grips my wrist and yanks the wine out of my hand with his other hand.

“We’ll get this for you,” he says. “And we have a special place to show you first. Your brothers will meet us there.”

Everything is happening too fast. I’m suddenly being herded by five men toward a door at the back of the store. My protests are met with assurances that everything is fine.

But everything is not fine.

I should scream. I should fight. But there are five of them, and I’m so very shell-shocked that I would hate to cause a scene if this is truly nothing. What if they really do know my brothers?

But the fear in my gut tells me this is wrong.

“I need to use the restroom,” I say, searching for any excuse to get away.

“Later,” the first man says, steering me down a set of stairs now.

My body goes cold. “I’m not going down there.”

“Sure you are,” the leader says, his breath hot against my ear. “We’re having a little party, and you’re the guest of honor.”

I try to dig into the floor with my feet, but I’m not strong enough to physically stay put. Two of the guys grip my arms and pull me down the stairs, and I know that if I don’t keep my feet moving, they’ll literally drag me if they have to.

The staircase opens into what looks like an underground club, and fortunately for me, they let go of my arms but keep me circled in, watching over me like vultures.

My heart races and my mouth feels dry, but I take comfort in the fact that we’re still in a public place. Thank god.

I was a fool not to have screamed for help upstairs. I know I won’t be making that mistake again. Now that I’m here, I’ll try to escape when the time is right, and if they try to stop me, I’ll scream.

Someone in here is bound to help me…right?

They force me into a booth in the corner. One of the guys immediately drops his hand to my thigh. I flinch but don’t push him away. There are too many of them, and something tells me creating a scene would only make things worse around this lot.

“What do you want?” I whisper.

The leader smiles. “Just to get to know the famous Sokolov sister. Your brothers have been... difficult to reach lately.”

“I don’t know anything about my brothers’ business,” I say truthfully. Besides, I would have lied if I knew the details, because I know these guys are no friends of theirs.

The man beside me leans closer. “Maybe not, but you’re still valuable to them, aren’t you? How much do you think they’d pay to get you back safe and sound?”

My blood turns to ice as I realize that this is a kidnapping. They’re planning to ransom me to my brothers.

I need to get out of here. Now.

“I really need to use the restroom,” I try again, my eyes scanning for an exit.

The leader studies me, then nods. “Dmitri will take you.”

One of the shorter guys stands and reaches my side, pulls me off the booth. If I can get to a bathroom, I can lock the door, call my brothers, call anyone...I still have my phone.

I turn to walk away when Dmitri pauses and growls, staying put. I look to see what has his attention and notice a man walk up to us. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a classy suit none of these guys could pull off without looking like they’re trying too hard.

I remain rooted, wondering if perhaps I could say something to this newcomer, to see if he could be of some help, but he speaks first.

“Interesting company you’re keeping.” His brown eyes flicker to me before falling on the leader.

“Private business. Nothing that concerns you,” the leader scoffs and waves him off.

But the stranger doesn’t move. He slides into the booth, forcing the other guys to move in. Dmitri remains standing where we are, and although I can’t hear too clearly over the chatter, I hear well enough.

“You know who I am?” he asks.

The leader pales but acts tough, spitting on the floor beside him.

“How do you know the girl?” the newcomer asks, flicking his head toward me. I freeze, knowing now that they’re talking about me.

“What’s it to you?”

“All I’m asking for is a conversation,” the well-dressed stranger says.

A conversation? He wants a conversation with me? About what, possibly?

The two men stare at each other, the tension crackling between them. Then, to my shock, the leader makes a crude gesture, as though shuffling for cash in his hands.

What the hell?

Dmitri suddenly grips my arm tighter, as though he realizes I’m more valuable than he thought. My heart begins to crank up like a jackhammer. I realize my plans to escape are falling flat around me.

If this is the kind of place where people can ask for cash for a woman, I doubt anyone is going to come to my rescue. With wide, frightened eyes, I look around the club and, for the first time ever, notice how all the men here look the same: Dangerous.

“How much for the girl?” the stranger asks.

My jaw drops. He’s seriously trying to buy me?

The leader scoffs. “We had other plans for her.”

“Plans change,” the stranger says, pulling out a checkbook and scribbling something. He slides over a check. “That should cover any... inconvenience.”

To my horror, the leader takes one look and nods. “Deal.”

The minute the sale is made, Dmitri lets go of my arm. I stumble back, horrified.

This can’t be happening. I turn on my heels, preparing to run for the door when the stranger, my buyer, is right at my heels. He grips my arm, and I try to pull back, tears rolling down my cheeks, but he leans in and whispers, “Cooperate. These men are dangerous. Trust me.”

Trust him? Is he crazy?

“You don’t know my brothers,” I hiss, meeting his deep caramel eyes. “They’ll go straight to the cops if something happens to me.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks incredulous. “The cops, huh?” he sniggers. “Well, they’re not here, are they? These men can harm you badly. Cooperate, and I’ll get you out of here. I know what I’m doing, Arina.”

I stare into his eyes, shocked at how he knows my name. He could be dangerous, too, but something tells me he’s a safer bet than my earlier kidnappers. At least he’s talking to me, trying to save me—or so he claims.

Maybe he’s an undercover cop, or someone who actually knows my brothers.

Just then, I hear one of the men say, “We could have gotten a better price for her, boss.”

I stop fighting and, with a hand to the small of my back, he guides me out of the door in a rush and up the stairs.

“Who are you?” I whisper.

“Not now,” he says under his breath. “It’s not safe to talk.”

I hear footsteps behind us and look down the stairs, see two of the men following us. We break into a run. They follow.

Looks like they’ve changed their minds about the price I fetched.

“Once we’re outside, we go straight to my car,” he whispers. “Okay? It’s parked right by the exit.”

I nod, my heart sinking. I know I have no time to insist that I can walk to my car. It’s safer to just get the hell out of here.

We run through the liquor store, and I notice some of the store assistants looking at me with relief. They knew, I think to myself in anger, that I was in danger. Yet, none intruded.

Perhaps it was wise that I didn’t put up a fight.

Outside, the stranger guides me to his car, a sleek black sports car. He opens the door and tells me to get in.

I hesitate for just a second, looking around wildly. There are people on the street, but would any of them help if I screamed? I don’t think I should get into a stranger’s car.

“Now,” he says, his voice urgent. “They’re coming.”

I look behind me, and sure as day, they’re beginning to break into a run. I slide in instantly, and as he closes it behind me, I run toward the driver’s side.

He gets in, revs the engine, and drives the hell out of here. Really, really fast.

One of our chasers shouts and tries to shoot at the car. I scream in shock, watching as the car skids.

“Get down!” The stranger pushes my head below the dashboard as we accelerate. I hear something hit the back window, but I don’t look up.

We drive in silence for several minutes, taking sharp turns. Finally, he says, “You can sit up now.”

I straighten, rubbing my neck. “Thank you,” I say cautiously. “For getting me away from them. For…saving me.”

He darts his eyes toward me and gives me a polite smile. He has a dimple, I notice. And his face, away from that seedy club, is dangerously handsome.

“What’s your name?” I ask when he says nothing.

“Ilariy,” he says, and then goes quiet again.

“Thank you…Ilariy. I’m afraid I’ve really put you out tonight.” I let out a nervous giggle. “I’d hate to take up more of your time. Would it be possible for you to please take me to this address? I’m certain my brothers would be happy to pay you for your efforts tonight.”

I reach for my phone to show him the address.

He glances at the screen, then back at the road. Once again, he doesn’t say a word.

I assume he’s not the talkative type, and I settle back in my seat, willing my heart to stop racing. I’m safe now, I tell myself over and over again.

I look out of the window casually, watching the roads pass by, but sit up when I notice he’s taken the wrong turn.

“Oh, Ilariy,” I try to speak politely. “I think we had to go that way.” I point to the road on the left that has now fallen behind us.

He doesn’t answer, accelerating down a street I don’t recognize.

My heart begins to race again, and I lean closer to the window, looking out. “Please,” I say, nervously now. “This isn’t the right way!”

In a desperate bid to make him understand, I shove the phone under his nose again. He doesn’t even bother to look at it, instead taking another road I don’t recognize.

Okay, now I’m full-on panicking.

“Stop the car,” I demand. “Let me out now!”

“I can’t do that,” he finally says, proving he isn’t mute. “Those men will be looking for you. And your brothers... well, let’s just say they won’t be happy to see me.”

Fear churns in my stomach. “Who are you?”

Once again, he doesn’t answer. He begins to drive faster, and I turn to try to open the door, but it’s child-locked.

Suddenly, I realize what a grave mistake I made getting into this car. A stranger’s car.

What the hell was I thinking?

Ilariy, if that’s even his name, finally pulls up to a dark building in the middle of nowhere.

“Get out,” he says, his brows furrowed.

“No.” I grip my seat, my heart pounding. “Tell me what’s happening!”

He gets out, walks over to my side, and pulls me out of the car. I try to fight, but he’s too strong, dragging me toward the warehouse entrance.

“Let me go!” I scream at last, hoping someone might hear.

“No one can hear you here,” he says, pushing open a heavy door. “And if they could, they wouldn’t care.”

Inside, the space is empty, looks abandoned. We walk down a corridor and enter a small room at the end.

Inside stands an elderly man. No. A priest.

There’s a small table in front of him, with papers laid out. Two men in suits stand at attention, like witnesses.

“What is this?” I whisper, though in my heart, I fear I already know.

I’ve watched enough crazy films to recognize such a scene; I think I must be dreaming because things like this don’t happen in real life—forced marriages. It can’t be happening…not to me.

Ilariy finally turns to look at me fully, his expression unreadable.

And then, he says six words that almost make me faint. “You’re about to become my wife.”