Page 23 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva (Zolotov Bratva #14)

My phone lights up for the tenth time today, and when I glance over, I see Tikhon Sokolov’s name flashing on the screen. I ignore it just like I have ignored all his previous calls.

It’s been five days since Arina locked herself in her room after discovering who her brothers really are. Since then, she’s barely emerged except to eat, and that too, because I force her to. She hasn’t even mentioned her brothers once, nor asked to speak to them, let alone see them.

And I’m not going to force her to contact them. They’ve shattered her, and I’m only concerned with Arina and her well-being.

There hasn’t been a moment when I’m not worried about her.

Whenever I go into her room to check on her, she has this faraway look about her, and though she tries to make an effort to talk, I notice how she forces herself to.

Her hair is a mess, she’s always in bed, and her eyes, always rimmed with red.

If she just asks, even once, to talk to her brothers or puts in a request to meet them, I won’t be the one to stop her. But the truth is, I’m afraid if I force her to, she’ll only get more triggered.

Once again, Tikhon calls. When I don’t pick up, he sends a text: Where is Arina. Pick up or else.

The messages have been escalating. First, he was inquiring about Arina’s whereabouts. Then, he was asking if she was okay. Soon after, he started demanding to speak with her, and now, he dares to send thinly veiled threats?

I don’t respond, and he calls again. This time, I lose my patience. Who does he think he is, acting like an entitled asshole? Thinking he has a right to her when she doesn’t even want to see his face?

It’s time, I think, to let him know where he stands. I snatch up the phone on the next ring. I need to end this before it gets worse.

“What?”

“You finally picked up,” Tikhon sounds furious. “How gracious of you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Put my sister on the phone.”

I lean back in my chair and clench my fists at the tone he takes. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Bullshit,” he spits. “You’re keeping her from us. She’d never choose to stay with you.”

“You saw her face at the café, Tikhon. She made her choice. She heard what you’ve done.” I try to keep my voice stable, but it’s hard. “I guess she finally knows what kind of men her brothers really are and is done with you.”

I feel a faint satisfaction while delivering that last line.

“Fuck off, Ilariy,” he hisses. “She knows you’re no saint. You forced her to marry you!”

“And yet, she still chose to leave with me rather than go back home with you. What does that tell you?”

His breathing grows heavier on the line. “How is she?”

The question catches me off guard with its genuine concern, and I answer impulsively.

“She’s fine.”

“Let me speak to her.”

“No.”

“Goddammit, Letvin!” His voice cracks slightly. “She’s my baby sister. I raised her after our parents died. I need to know she’s okay.”

A strange feeling tugs at me, makes me want to comfort this man who simply loves his sister just as much as I love mine. But then I remember what he did to Nikandr and Lilibeth, and the moment of empathy evaporates.

“Don’t pretend to care about her now,” I snigger. “You lied to her your entire life. What kind of brother does that make you?”

“Don’t you dare judge me, Ilariy! You have no idea what we were going through?”

“Oh, really? You seemed fine as hell when you were busy getting my brother hooked on drugs. Were you suffering when you allowed Viktor to torture Lilibeth like that? Don’t you dare ask me not to judge you!

You tortured a woman! A WOMAN! And just so you know, Arina knows everything now, Tikhon. Every sick, twisted thing you’ve done.”

The line goes silent for a moment, and when he speaks, his voice is lined with fury. “You told her that?”

“I told her everything.” I smile.

“How dare you? It wasn’t your place,” he roars into the phone. “You sick asshole. I’m going to get you for this.”

“Oh yeah? What will you do?” I taunt. “You couldn’t even protect her from being taken in the first place.”

“I will burn your entire world to the ground, Letvin. I will take everything and everyone you love, the way you took her from us.”

Something in me snaps at the threat. I think of Nikandr’s hollow eyes, of Lilibeth’s scars, of the months we spent hunting the Sokolov brothers with no success. And now one of them has the audacity to threaten me?

“Listen carefully,” I say, ice in my veins.

“Arina is leverage, nothing more. Did you really think I married her because I wanted her? I took her to draw you out, and it worked. She’s still with me, serving her purpose.

The thing is, I’m keeping her around to use her, and it gives me great joy to see you watching from a distance, helpless. ”

I hate talking about her in this manner, but I press on, wanting to hurt him, to make him feel a fraction of what my family felt.

“When I’m done with her, she’ll be the one to hurt. Poor thing, it’s not her fault. But you started it, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it while I end this.”

“You son of a—”

A small sound from behind me cuts through Tikhon’s curse. I turn, and there in the doorway stands Arina, looking shocked. Our eyes lock, and I gasp, ending the call instantly. By the time I am standing, she’s already run out of my office.

“Arina, wait!” I head to the door to follow her and explain, when one of my men appears in the hallway from the other end.

“Boss?” he sounds urgent. “We have a situation. They’re saying the shipment we received on the East Dock from Mexico doesn’t match what was loaded.”

I look in the other direction, where Arina ran off. I need to talk to her, but if someone’s stealing our shipments, we could be in serious trouble. Agafon trusts me with this, and we have more ships out at sea as we speak.

“Sir?” he presses.

“Give me a second,” I snap and pull out my phone to call Arina. It goes straight to voicemail. I leave a message telling her I can explain.

Maybe she just needs some space to cool down. If I try talking to her now, while she’s still so angry, it might blow up in our faces. A calmer head makes for better conversation.

And so, I turn in the other direction and give the associate a nod. “Let’s go.”

***

When I come back home that evening, I immediately get out of the car and head in, asking the first maid I see where Arina is. I need to talk to her.

“Mrs. Letvin left with your sisters about ten minutes ago, Sir. They’re headed to the lake house for the night.”

“Did they go alone?” I ask, fear taking over.

“No, sir,” she explains. “The convoy went with them.”

Relief washes over me, quickly followed by guilt. At least she’s with Tatiana and Katya. At least she’s protected. But the look on her face when she heard what I said to Tikhon—that will haunt me till I get to speak to her.

***

It’s been three days since Arina overheard the horrible things I said, and she’s been avoiding me since. She eats in her room, keeps her door locked, and refuses to let me enter.

When I pester her, I learn she takes off for another outing with my sisters, conveniently choosing to stay out of the house.

Tonight, yet again, she’s not at home. I find myself going crazy thinking of her and feel like I’ll drive myself utterly mad if I don’t find something to do.

On impulse, I head over to one of our warehouses. There’s a shipment going out, and I can maybe overlook it. It buys me time, too, for when I return, Arina will be back, and I can force her to finally talk.

God, I miss her. I miss her laugh and those eyes sparkling with life when she’s happy.

I just miss her presence, even when we sit in quiet.

I can no longer let her think what she’s thinking.

She’s learned too much in the past few days, and this burden she carries from what I said isn’t even one to be carried.

I only said those things to piss off Tikhon, and she must know that.

I’m pulled back to the present when my warehouse manager comes to report that everything is proceeding well. “We’ll have the shipment moved to secure storage by tonight.”

“That’s perfect, Yuri.” I pat him on the shoulder.

But just then, a sharp crack echoes through the warehouse. For a split second, I think it’s a crate falling.

But then, I hear gunfire. I see two of our men go down right before me, blood seeping onto the floor.

“GET DOWN!” I roar, tackling the manager to the ground as gunfire erupts around us.

“Boss, what should we do?” one of the employees yells from behind a crate.

“PREPARE YOUR WEAPONS! We’re being attacked!” I scream over the gunfire and reach for the phone in my pocket to text Agafon to send back-up.