Page 17 of Owned Bratva Bride

She was no little damsel. This girl was fearless. She was fierce. Which was the direct opposite of what I had expected of Lucien’s trophy wife. When men like Lucien kept their wives from the public eye, it only meant one thing: She was a delicate princess he wanted to protect. That was the type of woman I had expected his wife to be. Not a hot-headed, defiant spitfire.

“Leave us,” I told my men.

“What exactly did you have in mind? That you’ll just keep me here as you wish?” she questioned, her voice breaking.

A few seconds passed before I crouched in front of her.

“You were with Navarro. That’s why you’re here,” I revealed, my eyes level with hers.

“What the hell does that even mean? I was invited to the art showcase the same way every other person was. Why am I here when everyone else has probably forgotten about the event?”

“I don’t expect it to be this hard for you to understand,” I remarked. “Did he ever tell you about the Bratva?”

“The what? Why do you think he told me anything that has anything to do with you, whoever you are?”

The bastard really sheltered her from the crime world.

“I’ll explain it to you. A few years ago, Navarro messed with our business. As the Bratva, we taught him a lesson, and, good for him, he learned. But, as Eduard Yezhov, I vowed to get even. You know why? I was in charge of the shipments he tampered with. It was my integrity he toyed with. But I decided it wasn’t going to be instant. You must have heard the saying that revenge is best served cold, I assume.”

She half-rolled her eyes. It almost distracted me.

“When I found out that he had a wife that he kept tucked away in his private residence, I knew that was exactly where I would strike. It was only a matter of time. So, you’re here because—”

“Wait, did you just say Lucien has a wife?” she asked, cutting me off.

“Are you asking me that? Do I look like the kind of man you can fool with some acting skills? I’ll tell you not to bother because the plan is set in stone already. He’s already in a panic, losing his mind, looking for you. It won’t be long before he connects the dots and realizes that I have you. That call from him is exactly what I’m waiting for. That’s when I’ll make thedemand that’ll ruin him to an extent he’ll never forget as long as he breathes.”

“Lucien isn’t married. Can’t you hear me?!” she yelled.

A wry chuckle left my lips. “Who are you to him, then?”

She scoffed.

“Lucien isn’t even my boyfriend. We just met and went out together a few times,” she answered, then her eyes dilated again. “You said he’s married?”

I paused, studying her face instead of answering her. Then my eyes locked on her again; she didn’t look away like someone who was hiding something. I could sense her anger and read the tinge of fear in her eyes, but there was no lie or deceit.

How is this even possible?

She’s not his wife, not even his lover?

“The Bratva, or what the hell did you say is the name of your stupid society? Are you guys so dumb that you don’t carry out sufficient research before kidnapping innocent people?” she lashed out.

“Don’t you say such nonsense about the Bratva. What do you know? The ideals of the Russian Mafia are far more than what your tiny brain can possibly comprehend.”

“Oh, I think not,” she retorted, a small chuckle leaving her lips. “When Lucien mentioned that he worked with Mafia groups and all, I was impressed. I mean, from how ruthless and powerful the movies show them to be, I thought they had to be a big deal. But then, if this is actually how sloppy you guys are, those movies were clearly exaggerated. Even a layman would check for a wedding band when kidnapping someone who’s supposed to be someone’s wife. But you guys aren’t even skilled enough to be that thorough, are you?”

“Stop talking, or you’ll regret it,” I cautioned, my voice louder than I intended.

“Why? Your pride hurt?” she taunted.

“I don’t know what Navarro told you, but he clearly told you that we kill without blinking.”

“Hm, we didn’t get to that part before youmistakenlykidnapped me,” she answered casually.

“And what does that make you?”

That seemed to deflate her a little.