Page 28 of The Bratva Bosses' Surrogate

“How long was I out?” I ask, my voice still heavy with sleep.

“About an hour,” he replies. “You needed it.”

I sit up slowly, stretching my stiff muscles. The car’s interior is dimly lit, the world outside a dark blur. I can feel the tension from earlier easing, replaced by an unexpected sense of security.

“You didn’t have to—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“It’s okay,” he says.

The car finally pulls up to what I can only describe as a fortress disguised as a mansion. It’s massive, looming like a giant in the middle of nowhere. The sight of it sends a chill down my spine. This is our safe house? It’s like something out of a goddamn movie.

As we step out, I’m immediately aware of at least a dozen security guys swarming the area. They move with a purpose, their eyes scanning every inch of the surroundings. It’s like stepping into a military base, not a home.

The mansion itself is intimidating. Huge, with towering walls and windows that reflect the night sky. I can’t help but wonder what lies behind those walls. Secrets? Danger? Or just more of the lavish lifestyle these Bratva men seem to be used to?

Ivan’s right beside me. He’s close, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him.

“I can’t believe this is where you guys hang out,” I mutter, my eyes wide as I take in the grandeur of the mansion.

Ivan glances down at me. “Welcome to our humble abode.”

“Humble? This place is freaking huge!” I can’t help but let out a low whistle.

As we walk inside, the grandeur of the mansion strikes me. High ceilings, grand staircases, and opulent decor. It’s like stepping into a different world, one where luxury and danger go hand in hand. My old apartment could fit into the lobby alone.

“As part of our world, you’ll have more than just a room,” Ivan says, his voice echoing slightly in the vast, ornate corridors. He stops in front of a set of grand double doors. With a flourish, he opens them, revealing what lies beyond.

I step inside, my eyes widening in disbelief. It’s not just a room; it’s a suite fit for royalty. The space is immense, with high ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes, and the floor is covered in lush, deep-pile carpets. Every piece of furniture looks like an antique, the wood polished to a high shine, the fabrics rich and sumptuous.

I wander toward the windows, which are almost floor-to-ceiling, offering a breathtaking view of the sprawling estate. “All this, for me?” My voice is barely a whisper, drowned out by the sheer scale and luxury of the room.

Ivan watches me with an unreadable expression. “In our world, we don’t do things by halves. This is your sanctuary, a place where you can be safe and, more importantly, feel powerful.”

As I turn back to take in the room once more, my eyes catch a glimpse of a marble fireplace, a grand piano in one corner, and a chandelier that scatters light like diamonds. It’s overwhelming, opulent, and nothing like I’ve ever seen before.

I shake my head, still trying to wrap my mind around all of this. “And I thought the island was fancy.”

We reach my bedroom, and it’s like something out of a magazine. King-size bed, plush carpets, a view of the woods that’s both beautiful and eerie. I’m in awe.

Ivan stands at the door, his posture relaxed but alert. “You’ll be safe here, Sofia. We’ll make sure of it.”

I nod, not sure what to say. Safe. That word means something different now. In a world where mansions are safe houses and nights are interrupted by gunfire, safety is a luxury, one that comes with a heavy price.

The other Bratva members enter the room, their presence filling the space. Maxym’s eyes find mine immediately, his concern evident. “Are you alright?” he asks, and I can’t help but notice a softness in his voice that’s reserved just for me. He’s kind of cute when he’s worried, not that I’d ever say it out loud.

He glances up and down my body, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “You don’t seem injured anywhere.” I catch his gaze lingering on my hips, and a little thrill runs through me. He looks like he likes what he sees.

“I, I’m alright,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel. Maxym’s concern is touching, but it also reminds me of how real the danger is.

Maxym leans back against the wall, his gaze fixed on the narrow window. Ivan’s gaze is distant, his thoughts evidently troubled. I can’t help but feel a knot in my stomach, wondering if his concern is for me or the precarious situation we’re in. “Did you find out who was behind the attack?” I ask, my voice betraying a hint of the fear I’m trying to conceal.

Ivan turns to me, his eyes narrowing slightly as if assessing the weight of his words. “It might be a rival Mafia gang. We’ve been at odds for some time,” his voice trails off, and I can’t help but notice the subtle tension in his posture, a sign of unspoken threats lurking in the shadows of our conversation.

I cross my arms, an attempt to shield myself from the undercurrents of danger that seem to permeate the room. My gaze shifts from one man to another, each of them an embodiment of power and unpredictability. “But the only people who knew our location were you and your men,” I point out, the suspicion in my voice more pronounced than I’d intended.

There’s a palpable shift in the atmosphere. The men exchange glances, their expressions a mix of caution and unease. Their nervous movements, the shuffling of feet, the clenching and unclenching of fists, betray the high stakes of our conversation.

Ivan’s eyes flicker with a complexity of emotions before settling into a steely resolve. “Our organization harbors many secrets, some even unknown to us,” he says, his voice low and steady. As he moves towards a cabinet, his deliberate steps seem to echo the gravity of his words. “Someone within our ranks must have betrayed us.”

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