Page 51 of Konstantin (Marinov Bratva #1)

His gaze turns to a sharp slit. “Tell me. I want to hear it all.”

Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat. “After I started to have feelings for you, I was relieved to find no proof linking you to Nate. It felt like I was waiting for permission to want you.”

His body visibly tenses at that, but he says nothing.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” I laugh bitterly.

“Because Nate’s the only real family I’ve ever had.

Everything else I told you about my past, my mom, it’s all true.

She was shit, Konstantin. I spent my childhood imagining a different life, one with decent parents, but I didn’t have that. I had Nate. ”

I run a hand down my face, waiting for him to say something, anything, to acknowledge what I just told him. But he doesn’t, so I go on.

“Then my contact found proof that Nate’s partner and my boss were tied to the DeLuca crew. They were both dirty, and Gerardo was the one who set up my brother.”

“And this Gerardo, where do I find him?”

“Why?” Amusement flickers in my tone. “You planning to kill the head of a field office?”

“You insult me, moya lyubimoya.” His arms stretch across the sofa.

I shake my head at his level of ego. “He’s got bodyguards. He’s never alone. And he’s in deep with the DeLucas. He’s been on their payroll for years.”

“And you’re telling me this like I’m supposed to be afraid?

” He breathes deeply, his chest rising like the calm before a storm.

“They’re the only ones who have something to fear now.

” Then he says something that flips my world upside down, more than it already is.

“You should know…the hit at the hotel in Chicago. That was meant for you, not me.”

“What?” The word escapes me in a strangled gasp.

He nods. “Whoever sent those guys knew you’d be there.”

My head spins.

“Only two people knew.” My stomach drops as realization crashes over me. “It was him. It had to be. He knew I was getting too close. Knew I was going to remember that he was the one in my vision, the one I told you about.”

“So, that’s what you remembered? Why you did what you did…”

I nod, the words heavy. “He knew this whole time that I saw him kill that cop. He needed me gone. He…fuck!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to steady the chaos of emotions spiraling inside me. Everything’s clicking into place, but it’s all too much to process.

Then, suddenly, he’s there beside me, his arms pulling me in.

“Emilia…you’re okay. I’ve got you.” His voice offers a sliver of comfort, but it doesn’t last.

“No, just don’t.” I push him away, the need to protect myself overwhelming.

I know it’s over. Why let it drag on any longer?

Konstantin’s gaze sharpens, his intensity growing. “I know you’re hurting. I understand. Because the ones who betray us are always the ones closest to us.”

And I realize he’s talking about me.

“What do you plan to do with me?” I ask, desperate for this to end. I just want it over.

“What I’ve been doing all along.” He rises to his feet, pacing around me. “Try to keep you from getting killed. I know it may be difficult since I know how stubborn you can be, but this is the part where you thank your husband.”

I scoff. “You’re so generous.”

“I’m glad you noticed.” His lips curl as he slips his hand into his pocket, pulling out a flip knife and flicking it open.

“Do you know what would’ve happened to you, to this household, if my brothers found out who you were?

Any one of them would’ve slit your throat by now, and then I’d have to kill them.

” He flips a hand dismissively. “It would’ve been too messy. ”

He returns to me, dragging the tip of the knife slowly along my collarbone. “The fact that I didn’t kill you when I found out about you? That’s the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.”

“Like I said, generous.” My tone is cunning, no longer afraid but filled with irritation.

He drags the knife between my breasts, his gaze never leaving mine. “Now, tell me…” He pauses, his breath steady. “What should I do with you, Mr s. Marinova?”

“Let me go. Forget I existed. I won’t go to the feds. I only came here for Nate. He’s all I’ve ever had.”

His nostrils flare, his anger suddenly palpable.

“You had me.” He slaps his chest with violent intensity.

My voice breaks, wanting to believe that with all my heart. “I never really did, though, did I?”

I grip his wrist, the urge to go back to those last few days, before everything fell apart, overwhelming me. But it’s too late. The life we could’ve had is gone.

“None of it was real, Konstantin. You never truly knew me.”

In an instant, he presses the tip of the knife to my jugular.

“I knew you. I still know you.” He fists my hair, dragging his lips and tongue across my mouth.

“You think you can walk away from me after everything you’ve done?

” His lips drop to my jaw with a growl. “After the way you slid into my heart? No, malyshka. You’re mine now, until I decide otherwise. ”

“So, what’s the plan? Drag this out, then kill me?”

His fingers tighten around my hair as he pulls back, his gaze cold. “I should. But I still can’t do it. What does that say about me, dorogaya? Have I gone weak like my brothers think?”

“So, how does this end, huh? You keep hiding my identity and forcing me to stay as your wife? Because we both know it’s over, right? You won’t trust me after this, no matter what.”

The words taste bitter, and my gut twists with the finality of it.

I hate that it’s over, that this is the end.

All I want is to throw my arms around him and beg him to love me.

For once in my life, I want to be loved with nothing in return, to have that unconditional devotion I never felt as a child.

His mouth curls into a twisted grin as he lets me go, and every inch of me turns ice cold. “You’ll stay here until I figure out how to keep my brothers from killing you.”

I shake my head, a harsh laugh escaping. “You’re insane. You can’t keep me locked up here.”

My heart beats louder, fear and adrenaline racing through me. I can’t stop him, but I won’t let him think I’m just going to let him walk all over me.

His eyes gleam with dark delight. “Give me your phone.”

He reaches for it, waiting. When I don’t move, he shakes his head.

“Either you give it to me, or I’ll take it. The choice is yours.”

I glare at him, but with a sigh, reach into my pocket and hand it over.

“I’ll keep it safe for you while you reflect on your life choices.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He chuckles, turning away. In that second, something inside me snaps. Without thinking, my body moves faster than my mind can keep up. I lunge at him, and the knife slips from his grasp, clattering to the floor.

My fingers close around the cold handle, and for a brief second, power surges through me.

But he’s quicker. Before I can react, he’s effortlessly twisting my hand, sending the knife flying across the room.

He towers over me, a smirk still playing on his handsome face. “What now, Emilia?”

My breath comes in uneven bursts, my chest heaving, skin slick with a mix of sweat and the violent energy rushing inside me. Without warning, I kick him in the chin, and blood bursts from his mouth as he lets out a sinister laugh.

“You always know how to excite me. Both in the bedroom and out.”

I rush for the knife, fingertips grazing its tip, but he drags my legs before I can reach it. In the last second, though, I snatch it up.

He flips me over, teeth gritted, his fists on each side of my face. “Do you want me to bleed, Tessa?”

When he calls me by that name, I almost wonder if it’s on purpose, if it was him reminding me of my betrayal.

“Then let me bleed for you the way I always have.” Before I can process what he’s doing, he pushes his abdomen onto the blade.

“What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?!”

He laughs as his blood drips down onto my white tank top. Removing the knife from my hand, he tosses it across the room.

“You are mine, do you understand me? Mine!” In an instant, he yanks my shirt, tearing it violently, exposing my bra and bare skin beneath.

His fingers graze the cut on his abdomen, and without hesitation, he rips off his shirt, while his blood continues to drip, warm and sticky.

The rawness of him stirs something dangerous inside me.

He’s fearless, his grin wide, as though nothing can stop him.

Rising onto his knees, he cups my jaw, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that starts soft, but quickly deepens, leaving me breathless, my body strung tight.

One hand pins my wrists above my head, holding me captive as his grip tightens. With the other, he moves slowly, dipping his finger in his own blood before dragging it across my stomach. The motion is deliberate, sending a tremor through me, every nerve igniting with the sensation.

“Moya,” he growls.

He begins drawing the letter M on me before continuing to spell out the rest of the word, each stroke igniting a deeper, darker feeling inside me.

“Mine,” he finishes, his breath hot against my ear.

My body stiffens, but I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I shudder beneath him, my pulse thundering in my ears. He owns me in this moment, in every twisted way. And I don’t know if I hate it or if I just want more.

His mouth crushes mine without warning. It’s not tender. It’s rough, frantic—like he’s trying to take everything all over again. To ask me to stay, to love him, to need him.

But can he truly want me after this?

His lips bruise against mine—demanding, searching, as though this kiss is the answer to something neither of us can say aloud.

Every nerve in my body ignites under the force of him. The warmth of his body, the heat of his touch, consumes me. He tastes of blood, sin, and destruction, and I can’t tell if I want to pull away or sink deeper into it.

But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulls back, leaving me breathless, gasping for air.

My lips are throbbing and swollen, a sharp reminder of the battle that just unfolded.

The echo of his kiss lingers, burning through me, even as he walks to the corner of the room and picks up some chains.

No. NO!

“Please don’t do this. I’m begging you!” My voice cracks with desperation.

He ignores me completely, grabbing my ankle and fastening one end of the chain around it, securing me to the support beam. The cold metal bites into my skin, a cruel reminder of how powerless I am in his world.

When he begins to walk away, my heart races.

“Konstantin, wait! Please, just don’t do this. Don’t leave me like this!”

A rush of thoughts hits me: maybe I should tell him. Maybe it would change everything.

But the words stay trapped inside, and I stay silent. His back is all I see as he steps away, each footfall a hammer strike on the fragile wall of my sanity.

“Konstantin!” I call after him, wild and furious, my body straining against the unforgiving metal.

But it’s useless. He doesn’t care.

The door creaks open, followed by the cold, final click of it closing, echoing in the silence.

I’m trapped here now.

And as the desperation sinks in, the only thing left to do is figure out how to break free.