Page 4 of Sold Bratva Wife

As I approached the stage, Alisa finally looked up.

Our eyes met.

And for a second, for one brief, brutal second, I forgot how to breathe.

She didn’t smile. In fact, she paled and stared at me like I was a ghost.

Yeah, baby. Me too.

Chapter 2 - Alisa

I sat on a stage under a fucking spotlight while the men who took me stood nearby, pretending this was normal.

I was shaking. Inside, outside—my whole body was trembling in tiny, invisible ways I couldn’t control. My hands were folded neatly in my lap, but my knuckles were white. My back was straight, and I kept my chin up in pride. But my lungs were hurting so bad that I felt like I was dying.

I couldn’t believe I wasbeing sold.I was screaming at myself to run, but this room looked dangerous, and I wasn’t exactly in the mood for being chased, bound, and brought back here anywhere.

And then the winner was announced, and the minute I heard the name, I let out a gasp. It was a common name, I kept lying to myself, just until our eyes locked across the stage, and suddenly, I was twenty again; Stupid, naive, and breathless at the sight of him.

Dante Lebedev.

The man who’d taken my heart, crushed it into dust, and now stood there looking real as hell.

And the cherry on the cake? I was the prize.

His prize.

And judging by the announcer’s words, he’d just spent over seven million dollars to claim me.

It had been four years since he’d walked away without explanation, leaving me sobbing on my apartment floor, wondering what I’d done wrong.

And here he was. Walking up the stairs like nothing had changed, and he hadn’t shattered me out of the blue. Dressed in black, owning that arrogance of his and looking so much like trouble that I could barely breathe.

His hair was shorter now, swept back from his face, but still a little messy at the edges. And those green eyes—God, those eyes—were locked on me with that same impossible focus, the kind that used to make my heart race and my body forget how to behave.

My heart was hammering so hard that I thought it might crack my ribs. My palms went slick with sweat. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—my body was betraying me with every quickened pulse.

Fuck. Why him? Anyone but him.

Okay. I took that back. I was in a room full of criminals I didn’t know. Maybe Dante was the better bet.

But what the fuck was he doing here?

He couldn’t be one ofthem, could he?

But then again… he always said he had “his own businesses.”

He never explained what they were or answered any of my questions. Always dodged with that lazy grin and some throwaway line like“The less you know, the better.”

Back then, I thought it was charming and mysterious. Now it just felt like a neon red flag I’d been too busy falling in love to notice.

My stomach turned at the thought of how blind I’d been.

“Mr. Lebedev, congratulations again on your prize,” the announcer said.

I watched Dante approach, my entire body a live wire. My mouth dried up. My stomach twisted into knots. I forced myself to inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth. The way my yoga instructor had taught me.

The guard behind me shifted, his hand gripping my shoulder. “Stand up,” he ordered.