Page 29 of The Bratva’s Arranged Virgin Bride (Fokin Bratva #8)

I woke up, rolling over in the big bed I’d been sharing with Kolya for the last few days since our gallery opening had been such a success.

As usual, he was already gone. The battery in my tracker had long since died, and I hadn’t been in the mood to worry about it too much.

I had been thoroughly distracted not just by all the work for the gallery, but by Kolya.

Crawling out of bed, I headed to my makeshift studio, standing in front of the latest painting I had started.

Despite being consumed by art for the past couple of weeks, I didn’t have any fresh inspiration.

Ignoring the most recent canvas, I dragged a fresh one from the pile and began mixing paint to start all over again.

After a few brushstrokes, I really wasn’t feeling it and decided to head out early to the meeting with our artists. Kolya had hired six to start, but now we had ten since the first show had been such a smash. I also had my potters and sculptors, making beautiful knock-off ancient bowls and statues.

They didn’t know anything about where their finished products were going; they were just happy to make a steady paycheck at the work they loved. As soon as I was done lavishing them with praise to keep them motivated, I took the newest stack of paintings over to the gallery with me.

Even though it wasn’t real, I loved the place.

I had managed to whip it into shape in a record amount of time, easy when money was no object.

Kolya gave me free rein, which gave me much-needed confidence, and it ended up being perfect.

Even better than the one I had to give up in Milan.

We were raking in money, and I was having fun, just like before.

Except now I knew how things ended, and deep down, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was all a ruse, just like my marriage.

As I began to hang the new paintings, I wondered if I was starting to wish for more. A different ending. A happy one. Shoving those dangerous thoughts aside, I decided it was just because I was having such a good time that I let myself get distracted from my revenge.

But this was better, wasn’t it? Maybe Kolya was getting in too deep and wishing for more, too.

He’d practically trembled with emotion when he asked me to move into his bedroom with him.

At the time, I thought it was sweet; it had made my heart soar.

But that was because I let myself get distracted.

A flush of embarrassment with a ripple of desire washed over me as I thought of all the times he made me beg.

I’d been more than happy to say or do whatever he wanted, just so he would work his magic on me.

I hated it as much as I loved it. No, I kind of loved it more, which wasn’t good.

I couldn’t stop, because he loved it, too.

The longer I kept up this game, the more I could twist the knife and make him sorry he ever met me.

If I still longed for him after that, I’d have the knowledge that he was suffering worse to help me through it.

As I hung the new artwork, I could see that one of our workers put her all into the paintings she churned out for next to nothing compared to what we’d end up getting. I almost wanted to tell her how everyone raved over the last batch, but that would put the scheme in jeopardy, so I couldn’t.

It made me remember how much I cared about some of my paintings, especially my favorite one. Gone, all of them long gone now, thanks to the husband I was getting far too attached to.

A loud knock at the back door pulled me out of what threatened to be a very bad mood, and I hurried to open it, thinking it was the custom frame guy. When I opened the door, I barely repressed a groan.

It was Visarrion, and while he’d been charming and much more professional when we met again at the opening event, I wasn’t in the frame of mind to deal with anyone. Least of all, Kolya’s enemy.

Except, the enemy of my enemy might just be my friend, right?

I wasn’t really alone. The shops all around me were open, and I had a sneaking suspicion that Kolya kept a discreet guard on me at all times. I wasn’t really afraid of this guy. Why should I have been? He no longer tried to hit on me, and instead seemed to be checking up on his investment.

And Kolya despised him. Maybe I could work with that.

We chatted for a while, and I answered his questions, keeping in mind I was supposed to be an assistant, nothing more. He was delighted when I told him how we were still pulling in money since I’d been opening the gallery for a few hours each day.

“We expect to double what the first show did,” I said. “But you know, you really could have called Mr. Mikhailov for all this information. You didn’t have to waste your time on a visit.”

He smirked, the craggy lines between his brows deepening. “We’re not on the best of terms right now. Or ever.” He laughed as if it were no big deal. “We’re too much alike.”

I didn’t answer, but I doubted they had any similarities past wanting to make a lot of money. Then, he put forth an interesting proposal.

“How would you like to make more than whatever that skinflint is paying you?” He tutted something under his breath about rented dresses and how shameful that was.

The wheels were turning in my head. I didn’t trust this guy, far from it. But he had just outright admitted he wanted to work against Kolya, which was supposed to be my objective, too. Here was my opportunity to get back on track.

“I’m not really sure what you mean,” I said, feigning innocence, all while giving him a look to continue talking.

He made the whole thing seem like he was doing something noble, tired of watching Kolya abuse his underlings, as well as the artists who worked so tirelessly.

The bottom line was that he wanted to swindle Kolya, just as he had planned to eventually double-cross Visarrion.

The only thing he hadn’t thought of was siccing immigration on him.

Inwardly, I was bristling, and it irritated me that I had any kind of loyalty in my heart for Kolya. Was I that easy, forgetting everything he did to me because of a few weeks of kindness and all those delicious orgasms?

Visarrion’s plan wasn’t a bad one, and it suited my needs.

While I was breaking Kolya’s heart, he’d be draining his bank accounts.

And then it hit me like a bolt out of the blue that I could divert everything back to me when it was all over, and still get Visarrion kicked out of the country for good.

I could have it all.

Just not Kolya.

Before I could have second thoughts, I thrust out my hand for him to shake. “I can make it all work for you, Mr. Kotlov,” I said with my best subservient voice.

“No, for us,” he assured me. “You’ll come out of this ahead, don’t worry.”

Oh, I wasn’t worried about that. He shook my hand vigorously, only holding on a little too long, and then left me to crow to myself about my victory.

It was short-lived because within just a few minutes, my Uncle Nik was rattling the front door, wanting to be let in. My heady mood evaporated. What the hell was he doing here when he shouldn’t even know about the place? He wasn’t an art lover.

He also didn’t seem surprised to see me working inside, which had me panicking that this was no coincidence and my fun was about to come to an end. My father never wanted me to have anything to do with his life of crime, though reaping the benefits of it never bothered him.

“Don’t worry,” he said when I let him in. “I’ve known since before the opening. Congratulations, by the way, I hear it was a huge hit.”

Wait a minute. He must have thought the place was legit, or he would have had it shut down by now. “It was a big surprise,” I said.

“Yeah, who would have thought Mikhailov could arrange such an apt wedding gift.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I was safe, for now. He looked around, making idle chit-chat for a couple of minutes, clearly not interested in the art. Waving his finger around, he pointed outside.

“I was involved with every step of putting this place together. It’s not bugged,” I said.

He didn’t believe me, pointing insistently at the door. Outside, he ordered us coffee and pastries from a stand, then we sat on a bench under a shady patch of palm trees. Anyone looking at us would never suspect I was being grilled.

He wanted to know what I had learned so far, which wasn’t much. I admitted I learned Kolya had another house I hadn’t been to yet, and that one of the rooms in the beach house was always locked.

“There’s a camera in the hall,” I said, when he gave me a look that said he knew a lock wouldn’t stop me. “He’d know if I broke in.”

“Then I’m going to advise pulling you out,” he said, crumpling his empty paper cup. “We’ve gotten some intel we don’t like.”

“What?” I yelped, more upset that I was getting pulled away too soon than about some plot against the family. “What, exactly, do you know?”

“Not much, yet,” he admitted. “But Arkadi and Mila have disappeared, and that’s making your father nervous.”

I was disgusted he’d think Mila would ever do anything against us.

With a raised brow, he reminded me that she never told them that Kolya was in town and meeting with Arkadi in the first place.

That stung, reminding me how much Mila hid from me, too.

I had no answer because I didn’t know what to believe about my aunt and oldest friend anymore.

“They’re probably on one of their impromptu vacations,” I said listlessly.

He snorted, refusing to believe it, and I couldn’t give much more of an argument in their favor. He refused to tell me anything more about what scant information he had about Kolya, just repeated that he thought I was done.

Panic welled as I thought my uncles might drag me from Kolya. It would mean certain war, and destroy my revenge.

“I’m getting close,” I said. And I was, to what I wanted. I just had to convince them I could still get them what they wanted, too. “I’ll find a way to disable the camera and get into the locked room.”

He grumbled. “The clock’s ticking, Nat. None of us like you being with him. It’s driving us nuts thinking he’s going to take advantage of you. The longer you’re with him, the harder it might be to get an annulment."

Pissed off by that, I almost spit out that I was the one pouncing on Kolya at every opportunity. No one was taking advantage of me in that respect, and good luck getting an annulment now. That ship had sailed long ago. Instead, I kept up my promise of being on the verge of finding something out.

“It could be what you’re missing,” I said. “It could be the key to whatever he’s planning. At the very least, I can probably find out where Arkadi and Mila went.”

He nodded unhappily, but left me to get back to work in the gallery he thought was a wedding present and not a major scam. Now also a major stepping stone to my revenge. I had just barely bought myself some more time, but how much?

I just might have to stop having so much fun with the man I was trying to destroy and concentrate on bringing him to his knees sooner rather than later.