Page 9 of The Bratva’s Innocent Sold Bride (Fokin Bratva #9)

My bridesmaids tried to come back in while I was still reeling. “Give me a minute,” I said.

Surprisingly, my voice sounded light, and when I turned to the mirror, I didn’t look half-crazy like I felt. I was becoming an expert at tricking everyone into believing I wanted this.

Deception clung to me the way I had been clinging to Mat. Like I wanted him. Sinking down into the padded chair in the church dressing room, I shook the flower petals off my skirts and swore at the squished bouquet lying in tatters on the floor.

There was no saving it, so I let the pretty peach blooms fall from my hands, hands that still trembled from clutching at Mat’s shoulders.

How did I go from absolute volcanic anger to something else that was equally heated in a matter of seconds?

Just one touch of his lips and I was already forgetting everything except the way his chest felt, so hard and firm, his shoulders so broad.

It wasn’t because he was handsome, which was already an understatement.

There was something magnetic about him, something purely chemical that reacted deep within me.

The way he looked at me with such… I couldn’t even find a word.

Adulation? The way his rough voice softened as he complimented me with wholehearted fervor.

Like he was actually about to marry the woman he loved instead of twisting the knife in my father’s heart and ruining my life in the bargain.

Okay, that was better. The anger was returning. I’d have to kiss him again in probably twenty minutes, but I could steel myself for it during the vows, maybe even swerve him so he only got my cheek. He wouldn’t like that, but I didn’t like any of this.

Mila stuck her head in, starting to teasingly ask if I had cold feet, then she spotted the flowers.

“Oh, no,” she gasped, dropping beside what was left of the bouquet like any captain on a battlefield when one of her men was shot down.

“You can thank your cousin for that,” I said, my cheeks reddening as I remembered it was I who crushed the flowers between us as I pulled myself closer to his hard body.

She took the blush as something else and grinned. “Oh, I know all about that. Don’t worry, I can fix it somehow.”

I watched her fingers fly, plucking out the best roses and rearranging them into a smaller bundle with the greenery and rewrapping them with the white ribbon.

Once she believed I was head over heels for Mat, it was easy to make her believe I knew everything about him.

Everything means the kinds of business that involved taking a woman as payment for an enemy’s debt.

Turned out the whole family was involved in organized crime, and even had a Russian word for it.

The Bratva. Brotherhood. But really, it was the mafia.

And the Fokins pretty much ruled all of California.

Mat was new to the country but not the way of life, and he was determined to become as powerful here as he was in Moscow, where apparently, he still ran his organization.

Since Mila was so chatty and outgoing, all I had to do was pretend to be down with everything she said, and pretty soon, I got more information about my father by letting her believe we were just gossiping about things I already knew.

My dad, whom I’d put on a pedestal, was worse than I thought.

It wasn’t just accepting loans from shady people when he was too untried to get one from a bank.

He was swindling money, using our charities to launder money, and was probably even funneling illicit funds through Taurus Ingenuity.

He was definitely manipulating the stock market somehow.

No wonder he didn’t want me anywhere near the company. He was afraid I’d find everything out. All my life, I believed his sterling reputation really meant something to him, but it was just a front.

With the bouquet repaired and looking as good as new, just a bit smaller, Mila dragged me to my feet and out into the hall.

My two oldest friends hugged me, not caring about the dress or my makeup.

They were as busy as I was, and we hadn’t exactly been meeting up every week since we all graduated, but despite being shocked by how sudden this was, they were honestly thrilled for me.

I was even able to trick my best friends. The other three girls were acquaintances whom I knew from prep school and someone I hung out with at Stanford, but I had to dredge up more people since Mat had so many groomsmen.

His family was immense, and pretty much all of them were there.

I’d barely had time to meet them when they started to arrive the night before.

His two brothers were pretty easy to distinguish.

Other than being fair where Mat was dark, Daniil and Rurik looked very much like him.

The rest of the men were all cousins, imposing and huge and blending together in my mind.

Their wives were all beautiful and doting, clearly not pretending to be wildly in love.

There were three girls, besides Mila, who were related to Mat by blood rather than marriage.

Nat was somebody’s grown daughter and married to a mobster of her own, just like Mila was.

There’d be no help from either of them in the future.

Masha and Lilia were cousins from another uncle—it was impossible to keep up, and their faces were a blur as I drudged down the aisle, my father’s hand on my arm as stiff as a corpse.

He tried to speak to me before the music started, but I stared straight ahead, already pulling ahead of him. There was no getting out of this unless I was prepared to make the mother of all scenes and risk watching my father get gunned down in the midst of this Bratva convention.

As mad as I was at him, I wasn’t prepared for that.

When the priest asked who gave this woman to be wed, I nearly gagged. Sold would have been a better word for it. I slid away as my father tried to kiss my cheek, leaving him with only air. Then the vows.

And then I was married. The papers had been signed the night before, and now it was all official, witnessed by everyone. My side of the church was filled with people I had known since birth, beaming at me with happiness. None of them could help me.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

My head snapped up, jerking me out of my daze. Mat grinned down at me, and the whole charade seemed real for a split second, the blink of an eye. His mouth was on mine, soft and warm and possessing. I was his.

I jerked away, forcing a shy smile at the last second. Everyone stood and applauded and cheered as if we were rock stars. Outside the sanctuary, Mat pulled me into a small office, his hands firm on my arms.

“I know,” I said before he could remind me what was at stake. “I’m sorry.”

His dazzling blue eyes flashed confusion as he looked down at me, his face flushed with pride. “What do you have to be sorry for? I only wanted a moment alone with you before everyone surrounds us.”

He truly looked amazing in his bespoke tuxedo, the fine fabric molding to his broad shoulders. And he wasn’t berating me for pulling away from his kiss.

Because he was giving me another. Longer, deeper, with his hands sliding down my arms to slip around my waist and pull me close.

Even with all the satin between us, I could feel the hard planes of his abs, chest, and hips.

Once again, my palms glided up his chest as if it were a well-worn path they’d taken many times.

I gripped his shoulders as his tongue swept between my lips.

“You were so beautiful up there. I didn’t hear a word of the vows.”

No one, not even my parents, had ever called me beautiful. I was maybe pretty or cute. Someone once said I had a regal air, but they were most likely sucking up. Hearing someone like Mat call me that and mean it was a difficult sensation to deny.

He was far older, far more powerful, rich beyond even what I could imagine, apparently, and he thought I was beautiful.

His hands moved lower, pulling the voluminous mass of my skirts up and up.

He laughed against my mouth as I opened it to him.

Rising up on my toes, my breasts rubbed against him, and even under the thick layer of beads and lace, my nipples hardened.

He broke away from my mouth, and before I could come to my senses, they were reeling from the feel of his lips edging down the side of my throat.

Tipping my head back, I closed my eyes, finding my fingers in his dark hair, a bit too long for a respectable businessman, and so soft that I sighed.

His chuckle reverberated against my neck, and he kissed his way lower as I breathed in again.

He smelled like soap, sandalwood, and the wool of his jacket. Leaning closer, I tugged on his hair.

I wanted his mouth on mine again. The tickling trail was getting too close to my chest, my heart was pounding too fast, and if he got much lower, it might explode. And whatever saints were in charge of this church, they weren’t helping me to resist.

As he raised his head, there was a knock at the door. The spell was broken. I jumped back and swirled my skirt around my ankles, made sure no beads were stuck to his jacket, and patted my heated cheeks.

“Go away,” Mat growled.

His brother’s laughing voice answered, telling him people were waiting.

The receiving line and the ride to the club for the reception were a nightmare.

I mentally tore myself a new one for melting all over him again, and could barely remember anything I said or who I said it to.

In the car, I pretended it was of the utmost importance to fix my makeup before the reception, and once we were there, I was swept up by well-wishers.

It was only during dinner that I got a reprieve.

Mat couldn’t exactly start making out with me at our table—well, he could, he could do whatever he wanted, but he was traditional enough not to.

I only knew what we were having: lobster, some kind of steak, and a vegetarian option, because I had been involved in the planning.

What I actually ate and what it tasted like were questions I couldn’t have answered.

Mat’s words in the dressing room came back to me as his brother Daniil was giving a toast. Everything was going to change after the ceremony.

At the time, I took it to mean I might be able to live my life normally, even try to get my job back.

But Mat shut that down fast enough. So, the only thing that could possibly change hit me hard enough to make me choke on my champagne.

Mat rubbed my back, leaning down to make sure I was all right.

“It was a pretty funny speech, wasn’t it?” he asked.

I agreed, glad to have an excuse for nearly spitting wine all over the table.

I looked at Mat, who didn’t seem that dangerous at the moment, surrounded by his huge and loving family, but the facts remained.

He was dangerous. His huge and loving family was all in the Bratva and would destroy anyone they perceived as an enemy, including me, if I didn’t toe the line.

“You said things are going to change,” I said.

He nodded, leaning close to nuzzle my cheek. “Everything will be different.”

Heat flooded me. The strange desire I couldn’t seem to fight, and fear, lots of that coursed through me. I would no longer be sleeping in the guest room.

Now it was my maid of honor’s turn to give a speech, and she rambled on about how she thought I wouldn’t get married until my clock was about to run down, making everyone laugh.

But of course, true love won, and there I was.

If only she knew, she’d run screaming from the place.

I shoved the bedroom situation to the background and forced myself to laugh along with everyone else.

When it was time for the father-daughter dance, I faltered as I stood. Dad waited for me, hand extended, and everyone was watching with gooey smiles on their faces. I had to keep up appearances, but I could hardly look at him. He was just a pathetic shadow of the man I always idolized.

“I’m sorry, CJ. You know this is killing me.”

I snapped, nerves too fraught for his pity party. “No, this is keeping you alive,” I reminded him.

He stifled a sob, but everyone probably thought he was just going through the bittersweet emotions of giving up his little girl. If only they knew that already happened two weeks ago.

“If you can get information to me, I might be able to fix this,” he continued as the song droned on. “Maybe I can get you out.”

“Stop,” I said harshly. I had never once spoken to him that way, but everything was different now. Just like Mat said. “You’ll never win against someone like Mat. Just stop.”

“You sound like you’re beginning to admire the man,” he whined.

“No. I just understand who he is. Something you failed to do.”

The song ended, and I let him hug me and kiss my cheek before Mat cut in and swept me away. As glad as I was to get away from my father, I was now in the arms of the man who owned me and expected a wife. I could handle being a slave, but never that.

His strong chest and firm grip on me weren’t making me melt now. His nearness was making me freeze up instead. Would he really make me sleep in his bed tonight? Do more than sleep? I longed for the blissful unreality I experienced when he kissed me, but it wouldn’t return.

By the time we left in our decked-out limousine, to the cheers of everyone we knew, I was shaking with fear.

I tried to hide it, but Mat noticed, lapsing into a stony silence in the car.

I couldn’t figure out what I feared more, his affection or his wrath.

I didn’t want either one, but something was going to happen when we got home.

He was a man who kept his promises. Everything was going to change.