Page 53 of The Tsar’s Obsession (Bratva Sinners #1)

Plunder

Mia

Blinded, I was dragged out of the car and pushed forward and down a set of stairs. There was a stale smell in the air once we arrived on a flat surface again—like an old library or storage room. Without pause or explanation, I was shoved into a chair and handcuffed to it.

The black cloth was finally removed, and I roamed my eyes around, seeing Dmitry and several of his men standing around a dimly lit room. The floors were concrete and the ceiling low, feeling more like a basement than anything else. A few tables and chairs stood around, giving a vibe of an interro–

My eyes caught sight of a workbench by the wall in front of me. Tools littered the table—blunt, sharp, and deadly.

This was an interrogation room.

“What the fuck, Dmit–” I whipped my head in the direction of the voice just in time to see Dmitry’s fist flying into Jeremy’s nose. Blood gushed onto his lips and chin, and he fell back into the arms of a man. He too was slumped into a chair and handcuffed to a nearby radiator. Two for two.

“The way I see it, Mia,” Dmitry’s voice sounded right in my ear, and I realized he took a seat in front of me—unnervingly close. “Now that you and Kirill are broken up, you’ re fair game. That’s the rule.” He spoke calmly, his filthy eyes assessing all of me.

I breathed through the stress and anger, refusing to meet his gaze, choosing to study the concrete floor in front of me and my surroundings. There were five other men in the room—a few pacing by the staircase and one behind me. Jeremy whimpered in his seat, no doubt regretting his life choices.

“I have to tell you—I’ve been waiting a long time to see you like this. I’ve seen a lot of you, but not up close. Do you think…you can undress for me…the way you do for him, Sunshine? Hm? You do it so sensually.”

His filthy fingers traced my cheek, and I stilled, his words blazing red inside my mind. How the fuck did he know how I undressed for Kirill?! “Go fuck yourself.” I shot back with anger, having no other power.

Dmitry chuckled. “Oh, you will, baby. You will. You’ll fuck all of us.” He leaned in closer, and I pressed myself against the back of the chair.

This…was way worse than I initially thought.

“You probably think that I’ve had to resort to this kidnapping, but no.

I’ve been working a long time to get here, Mia.

You were just the missing piece of the puzzle.

” His pure smile was such a contrast to his words and actions.

“It will be perfect. Head of the Bratva chooses to save his whore instead of meeting his own men.” He slid his hand in the air, as if imitating a news headline.

“An unforgettable downfall. An unforgivable betrayal.”

A long time to get here. How long, I wondered. Was he behind all the chaos of the last year? Was he Judas? Secretly working away to take down Kirill while laughing and chatting at our dinner table?

Dmitry leaned on his knees, his eyes a few inches away from mine. I recoiled, imagining his hands on me. But instead of touching me, he reached right past and clicked something. The sound was loud and unmistakable—a woman’s moans filled up the cramped space, the voice oddly familiar.

“Oooh, fuck! Yes, yes, fuck me harder! ”

Slowly, I turned my head toward the source, already knowing what I would see there. The little laptop played the grainy video, and I froze at the image—this was us, in our bed. Our bodies were tangled together, the sex rough and passionate.

Unable to look away, I watched Kirill pin me beneath him, his body pounding into mine, his fingers wrapped around my hair. This was intimate. This was private. This was us—violated.

Dmitry hit pause, and the silence was suffocating.

I heard my own breath, shaking and ragged, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"I didn’t know you liked it so rough, baby," his whisper fanned my ear. "We’re going to make a video too, Mia. Before he dies, he’s going to watch us. Let’s do it just like that."

Hot tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, refused to let him win.

Never cower—I repeated to myself like a mantra, but when Dmitry’s rough hand clamped down on the back of my neck, I couldn’t control the sharp gasp that escaped me.

My eyes squeezed shut, and panic finally seized all of me.

Please. Please, God, no. Not this.

"Kirill and I used to share everything. You didn’t think I’d let him have all the fun, did you, baby?

" Dmitry’s wet, disgusting tongue dragged up along my jaw, licking up the tear rolling down my cheek.

"Mmm, fuck. You do taste good," he groaned. "You must have magic pussy. For him to give it all up for you? Can’t wait to taste you, baby.”

I heard the words but didn’t want to understand them. Leisurely and teasing, he slid his hand down my body and settled on my thigh, tracing lazy circles on my jeans. I gulped, forcing myself to stay calm.

"I warned you.” Dmitry shook a finger in my face.

“I told you exactly what would happen—be ready for anything. But you ignored all the red flags—the Bahamas, the letter, Francesco, Polina.” He listed it all off, like reading a grocery list. “There were a lot of moving pieces this year, but look at me now,” he breathed, smug and joyful.

“I finally got him. You’re such good bait for a shark. "

The heat of his chuckle was against my lips now, but I didn’t pull back.

My heart hammered a mile a minute, but fuck him, I’d never show him my fear, never give him the satisfaction.

"Or should I say a pawn? I sacrifice you to get him.

You know what that term is called in chess, Mia?

" The sharp yank on my hair tore a hiss from my lips, but I spat the words back at him anyway.

“A gambit. But I’m not yours to sacrifice.” I looked right into his filthy eyes, all my words strained. “I play on his side, you fucking pig.”

With a repulsive smile, he nodded and reached for the laptop again. “You’re such a faithful whore. He’s never had a ride or die like that before.”

The sound blasted once more, and Dmitry turned my head toward it, forcing me to watch. I was on my knees, giving Kirill a blowjob, shoving him deep inside my throat, my moans stifled by the actions. This was a few days before our breakup. My tears plentiful, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look away.

"Damn, Mia, you’re a filthy fucking slut!

” Dmitry's words slashed through the air, but in a way, he wasn’t wrong.

I was a fucking filthy slut for my man. He pulled on my hair again, forcing me to look up at him, and that’s when I noticed his pupils blown wide, a little sniffle scrunching up his nose.

He was high.

Suddenly, he let go of my hair and slumped back in his chair.

The sex video played in the background, but he moved on.

“Were you shocked when you found the chain, Mia? I hid it in your jewelry drawer during that Christmas dinner.” My heart sank all over again at his words.

Kirill’s lie was always there, but under these circumstances, it became insignificant.

Dmitry held two phones in his hand. One kept ringing, and the other one…was mine. He typed out a text on his phone, easy and calm, like this was just a regular afternoon for him. Then, he lifted my phone to my face, unlocking the device and giving him further access to my life.

“I watched your breakup from the window.” He scrolled through my phone, distracted.

“I was so glad you came to the office to do it. Kirill looked like such a fucking dog, pleading with you on his knees,” he chuckled and threw his head back in joy.

“Oh God. If anyone saw that, no one would respect him again. The Tsar, getting down on his knees for a bitch.” Dmitry spat out his last words, looking me over in hunger.

“You know you won’t be able to kill him, Dima. You might get me, but not him. Set realistic goals.” I finally found my voice, the memories of the breakup reminding me of how angry I could get. I was fragile. Sometimes like a crystal, this time…like a bomb.

“I do. I have realistic goals," he spoke seriously, killing me with his gaze. “I did such a good job, Mia. Look at you.” His fingers ghosted on my cheek again, and I jerked away in disgust. “I planned it all perfectly. You, him, Yura, Jeremy, Polina. You’re all going to die tonight. I even tricked your stupid brother, a minor player but an important witness.”

Dmitry’s voice was sincere, but his next action was suffocating.

Slowly, his fingers wrapped around my throat, the pressure immediately alarming.

“Tell me I did a good job, baby,” he breathed into my ear as my oxygen was being reduced quickly, urgently.

He pressed harder, and I pulled back instinctively, but to no avail. “Tell me…I’m a good boy.”

The lights spun in my eyes, and Dmitry eased off, letting me take a desperate inhale of the stale air. “Tell me.” His voice was low, the look in his eyes desperate, like a small child asking for approval.

The seconds ticked, and the pressure was building again.

“You’re a…good boy,” I croaked, indulging him in his sick game.

He held up the phone to my eyes, showing me the screen as his hand slid off me.

It was Kirill’s number, the call was about to connect, and Dmitry’s plan was about to head into action.

The line rang only once before Kirill’s panicked voice sounded.

“Baby!?”

Baby.

Sunshine.

Svet moy.

I was such a fucking fool. I had it all. I had him, his love, his devotion. And I threw it all away because I was angry. Dmitry gave me a small smile and jutted his chin out, encouraging me to respond, ignoring my tears.

I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t pronounced his name in four long, agonizing weeks, but now, it was like saying a blessing. “Hi Kirill.”