Page 27 of Konstantin (Marinov Bratva #1)

He turns, eyes gleaming with satisfaction, then casually pulls out his phone, types something, and slips it back into his pocket like this is just another day for him.

Not even a full minute later, two of his men walk into my bedroom, rolling in a black suitcase like they’re bellboys at some luxury hotel.

My mouth drops open. “Are you kidding me?”

One of them heads toward my dresser.

“Don’t touch my underwear,” I snap, glaring .

Konstantin smirks, utterly unfazed. “Don’t worry, malyshka. I’ll handle that personally.”

“This is insane,” I mutter under my breath.

“This is good, ” he corrects with a wicked grin, pulling open the top drawer.

Without shame, he begins placing my bras and panties into the zippered pocket of the suitcase, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, while his men head for the bathroom, carrying a duffle.

My face burns, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. Still, the way he handles my most personal items, like he already owns every inch of me, sends a twist of desire and dread curling in my stomach.

The men return from the bathroom and give Konstantin a nod.

He extends his hand to me, and I just stare at it for a second, like maybe if I blink hard enough, I’ll wake up and this will all be some bizarre fever dream.

But it’s not.

With a resigned sigh, I place my hand in his, and he leads me out of the house.

As I lock the door behind us, something cold and final sinks in my chest. My nerves tighten with every step down the stairs, each echo of our footfalls slicing through the quiet of the night.

And when I spot the black Rolls-Royce SUV waiting at the curb, it hits me.

I’m not just leaving my house. I’m leaving my life.

And walking straight into the belly of the beast.

Konstantin opens the passenger door, but before I can climb in, he steps in behind me, his body pressing against mine. He plants his hands on the roof of the car, caging me in, heat radiating from him like fire, licking at my skin and curling into my spine.

Then his mouth—God, his mouth—dips low to the shell of my ear, his breath fiery and deliberate. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

My eyes close, soaking in the moment like it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to hear.

He waits, like he wants me to say it back. Like he needs me to.

But I won’t. Even if it’s the truth.

“It’s alright, Ms. Monroe. One of these days, you’ll reciprocate.” His lips graze the crook of my neck, and I almost groan in pleasure.

“Don’t hold your breath,” I whisper, letting my head fall back against the hard plane of his chest. “You might be waiting a while.”

He laughs, a low, dark sound that feels like sin itself. “You’ll find out soon enough that I’m a very patient man.”

And somehow, that scares me more than anything else.

His fingers trail along my hip, dipping lower, until they press between my thighs, right where I’m already throbbing for him. One thick finger drags upward, rolling over my clit through my pants with expert precision, like he already knows my body better than I do.

“Ty moi ray i moi ad.” Every syllable is rough and revering.

He rubs me with maddening control, his pressure devastating me, and I nearly cry out. But before the sound can tear from my throat, he pulls back and opens the car door all the way, like he didn’t just unravel me with one hand.

He helps me in, his touch now infuriatingly polite, the ghost of his fingers still burning against me.

I try to gather myself, to reclaim some scrap of dignity, but it’s useless. My body has already sold itself to the darkness.

And the worst part? I’m not sure I want it back.

Less than an hour later, we reach his estate, an endless stretch of land extending in every direction, wild and empty. The car glides down a long, double-laned road flanked by towering trees that shield whatever’s lurking beyond their shadows.

When we reach a sharp curve, the path opens to a towering iron gate. Two guards stand on either side, rifles slung over their shoulders like an unspoken warning. They don’t hesitate when they see him. Just a nod, and the gate swings open.

We roll forward again, deeper into his world, until the trees give way to a mansion so large it looks more like a compound. It spreads across the land like it owns it.

I don’t know why anyone needs that much space. But I guess I’m about to find out.

He definitely has a taste for grandeur. Towering white columns sculpted into angels flank the entrance, their stone eyes casting judgment even in the dark. Two of Konstantin’s men stand guard at the front, their postures rigid despite the late hour.

It’s just past two in the morning when we pull into the circular drive, headlights washing over a collection of colorful sports cars already parked outside. Of course he has an entire fleet.

He steps out and rounds the car, opening my door like we’re on a date and not whatever twisted arrangement this is. Ever the gentleman.

“Welcome home, Ms. Monroe,” he says, offering his hand. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

I take it, ignoring the way his touch sends a shiver up my arm. “It’ll do.”

He chuckles low, and we start toward the massive doors.

One thing’s painfully clear: if I’m supposed to uncover something in this fortress, I’m going to need more than a plan. I’m going to need a miracle.

The moment we step inside, I notice the lights are on. Every single one. Which is strange, considering the hour. I assume he has staff, but shouldn’t they be asleep by now?

We move through the grand entry into a sprawling den, the gleam of a chandelier spilling light across the polished floors. And that’s when I see them.

Three men are already there. Two of them are dressed in black from head to toe. Clean-shaven, broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed. They look a lot like Konstantin. Same height. Same imposing, dangerous aura.

But it’s the third man who makes my breath hitch. He rises slowly from one of the velvet chairs. Older, shorter, kind-looking…and unmistakably wearing a priest’s collar.

What the hell is a priest doing here?

My instincts scream that something isn’t right. Every part of me itches to turn and bolt. But I already know there’s nowhere to go.

“What’s going on? Why is there a priest in your den? Who are those guys?”

No one answers.

Then Konstantin takes a step forward. A step closer to the end of my life as I know it.

Because he’s either gonna kill me…or much worse.

“They’re witnesses,” he says casually, like we’re talking about a birthday party.

“Witnesses to what?”

His smirk widens, dark and predatory. “Our wedding.”

The words hit like a fist to my chest.

I stumble back, pulse roaring in my ears. “You’re out of your goddamn mind!”

“There’s no need for dramatics, Ms. Monroe.” His tone is maddeningly calm, while I’m anything but. “This is the only way I can ensure your safety. As my wife, you’ll be untouchable.”

“This is insane! You can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He stalks forward, eyes burning with command. In one swift move, he grips my chin, forcing my face up to his. “Who’s going to stop me?”

“I don’t want a husband,” I grit out. “Especially not one like you. ”

His gaze flares at that, something vicious twisting in his expression.

“You could do worse.” His thumb glides ever so slowly over my mouth. “And let’s be honest…you’ve already had worse.”

His arm wraps around my waist, dragging me flush to his chest. I feel every hard line of him, every ounce of power.

“So let me tell you how this is going to go. Father Pasha will marry us. And my cousins, Maksim and Dmitri, will serve as witnesses.”

Konstantin’s grip tightens.

“You will stand beside me and say yes. Because if you try to run, you won’t get far.

And if you disobey…” He leans in, mouth brushing the shell of my ear, words dropping to a deadly whisper.

“I’ll chain you to me like my favorite accessory, so tight you’ll forget what freedom ever felt like. You choose, Tessa.”

His words echo like a gunshot in my skull. This isn’t protection. This is ownership.

But as I look around—at the priest calmly flipping pages in his Bible, at the two cousins watching like this is their Friday night entertainment, at the guards posted like gargoyles, I realize…

There’s no way out.

My fingers twitch at my sides. My stomach flips.

Think, Tessa. Think.

I could scream. I could make this difficult. But what would that get me? A tighter leash?

Or worse, him deciding I’m too much trouble to keep breathing.

I swallow while my heart won’t stop hammering.

But the truth punches through the chaos: this might be the best move I have.

If I’m his wife, I’ll have more access. I can use that.

Even if it means selling a piece of my soul in the process.

Fine. You want to drag me into this hell? I’ll walk in smiling and burn you from the inside out.

“You’re an absolute psycho. How the hell do you think forcing me into this is how you protect me? What world do you live in?”

“Are you really asking me that?” His knuckles roll down my cheek, and I almost wonder what kind of husband he would be.

A savage in the bedroom and a saint outside of it? At least to the woman he loves.

Except he doesn’t love you. Sure, maybe he cares, but you’d be as good as dead once he learns who you are, so enjoy this marital bliss while you can.

“This is what I want,” he says, voice low and final. “And whether you admit it or not…a part of you wants it too.”

“No, I don’t.” My glare narrows.

He steps closer, crowding my space, dark eyes burning with ruthless certainty. “It doesn’t matter. This is happening, because I need to keep you safe. And I’ll do it with or without your permission.”

“You’re an asshole even when you’re trying to be chivalrous. You know that, right?”

“You’ll soon learn it’s all part of my charm, Mrs. Marinova.”

Why did that just sound so good?

Oh my God. Fiona and Gerardo are gonna lose their shit once I tell them about this.

I glance over at the priest and his cousins as they discreetly move to the far end of the room, giving us space.

“Will you grant me a divorce once the DeLucas are dealt with?”

“Sure,” he replies smoothly. “Unless, of course, you find yourself enjoying this marriage.”

I laugh, sharp and bitter. “Yeah, that’s never going to happen.”

He tsks under his breath, a playful but dangerous glint in his eyes. “Such little faith.” His thumb lightly traces my chin, and without warning, his mouth hovers closer. “I could be a very good husband, you know.”

His lips brush against mine, and the world tilts, the last of my resistance slipping away.

My hands instinctively find his biceps, solid and frustratingly addictive.

I want to rip his shirt off and climb him like a tree…

which would be bad, considering I suck at climbing and would probably fall flat on my ass.

Still, I bet he’d catch me and tuck me against his broad chest…

Focus, Emilia. Jesus.

“How is this marriage going to work?” I push off of him. “If you think you’re going to have me followed or chauffeured around like some rich bitch, think again.”

He laughs. “Fine. Please, wife, enlighten me on what you’d like this marriage to look like.”

The moment he calls me “wife,” it hits me like a physical force. My heart skips a beat, a rush of heat flooding my body.

It’s just a word, but the way he says it, so possessively…it sets something in motion inside me. Something I’m not sure I’m ready to confront.

“I don’t want to be followed.”

“That’s fine.” He shrugs.

“Really?” This can’t be that easy.

“Yes. There are other ways.”

Here we go…

“What other ways?”

“I can always put a GPS in you.”

“I’m sorry, what ?”

“How else can I keep you safe?” He gathers my hand in his and kisses the top of it.

“This is insane.”

“You keep saying that. But it doesn’t have to be bad for you. All your life, you didn’t have anyone protecting you, not really. I know you’ve come to depend on yourself, and that’s important. But now you have me. You have a whole family who would die for you. Don’t you want that?”

Yes …

He makes it all sound like a fairy tale, like he’d give me the family I’ve always wanted to have, but we know that fairy tales are all a lie.

“None of this is real. Once you’ve taken care of my death threat, I’ll just be your assistant again. I don’t mean anything to you.”

A crooked smile spreads on his face. “You underestimate the power you have over me.” He kisses the tips of my fingers, and that sweet gesture, those words, send a shudder through me.

“You’ll have everything you could ever want.

Just behave, and the rest will go smoothly.

And imagine how fun it will be when I’ll get to enjoy seeing you at work, then every night in my bed. ”

His bed…

God, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever be able to resist him.

“I’m still working for you?”

“Of course. You’ll have some time off to adjust to your new life, but there’s no one better than you.”

I stare into the eyes of the monster I can’t escape.

This is a nightmare. But I have to play along. For Nate. Let Konstantin think he owns me. Because the truth is, the closer he pulls me in, the more power I have to destroy him.

Yet the more power he has to destroy me too.