Page 23 of Owned Bratva Bride

“I’ll find a way to bring some clothes.”

“Clothes that God-knows-how-many prisoners here have worn? I’ll pass.”

“Oh, no. I was talking about getting some from a nearby store.”

“You think they’d let you spend their precious money on that?”

“It won’t be much of a problem. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, then.”

“It’s nothing,” she answered, going over to knock on the door.

The clicking of the lock came almost immediately, and she lifted the tray.

“You’ll be fine, Marielle,” she said over her shoulder before leaving me alone in the room.

“I hope so,” I said to myself.

Falling back into the bed, I looked up at the white ceiling.

Will I really get a chance to be free from here?

Will Lucien come for me?

If he didn’t care enough to tell me he was married, would he care enough to come for me?

Or was he gallivanting around with me because he heard these Mafia guys were coming for his wife?!

No, he’s not that heartless.

But what if he’s not coming for another reason?

He told me many things.

I remembered a recent conversation we had.

“It seems all the waiters know you. You must be a regular here,” I pointed out.

“I own it, darling.”

“You…are you serious? What exactly do you do? I mean, for you to own a club as huge as this!”

The volume of his laugh told me he was a bit tipsy, at least.

“I do a lot of things.”

“Like what and what?” I pressed.

“To start with, I launder money through different businesses. But the port in Baja is my biggest laundering business.”

“Stop kidding,” I dissuaded, laughing.

“Let me tell you more. I make a fortune from the Bratva. Since those guys stopped my business with their shipment, I have guys who intercept their arms suppliers. So, I skim from their deals every now and then.”

“Who are the Bratva?”

“The Russian guys, darling. They’re colder than the others,” he answered, then his voice dropped to a whisper. “If they came for me now, I’d disappear. With you, of course.”