Page 6 of The Bratva's Hostage Bride

The club is relatively full, but I have a clear view of the doors. I cross my legs and sit back, waiting patiently.

I smile as the door opens, and the girls walk in, sans the guys who were flirting with them.

Hannah is there too, looking shy but bopping her head to the music. Her cousin, the bride, also looks like she’s enjoying the music.

I motion for a guard to come to me. “That group that just walked in. Drinks on the house all night.”

He hurries to tell the bartender, and I lift my glass of whiskey to my lips. I smack my lips and give a devilish grin as Hannah looks across the dance floor and meets my gaze. She blushes and looks away.

Look back. Look back. Look back.

She looks at me again, and I nod. She gives a small wave. It’s cute.

They move over to the bar area and start ordering shooters. I keep an eye on them.

A group of regulars also approaches the bar and offers to buy them drinks, I assume. Hannah glances at me again as the one called Devon flirts with one of the regulars. She feels uncomfortable.

That won’t do.

I get up, straightening my tie. She shakes her head.

Was that for me?

Does she not want me to intervene? Maybe she’s scared I’ll embarrass her cousin.

I smile and incline my head, sitting down again. I watch as they do a round of shooters, and then they order some champagne. Even if I don’t get with this red-haired beauty, it would please me to know I made her night fun.

Hannah.

Her name is Hannah.

Hannah Milov.

It has a nice ring to it if I do say so myself.

I chuckle. I was just thinking how I don’t want to get married and have children, and one look from this quiet, introverted girl, and I’m already changing her surname to mine.

I can’t believe it myself.

I turn as I hear something unfamiliar.

Chapter 3 - Hannah

The VIP dance club. I can’t believe we actually got in. That handsome stranger who was talking to Devon must be the owner. It reminds me just how popular Devon is. I dig it. There is some alternative music playing, which may not be my cousin's style but is definitely something I can work with. I bop my head to the music while we order our free drinks. This is kind of exciting, I won’t lie.

It’s quieter in terms of the number of people here. There are people, but there are no leery old men who are just gross.

Devon taps me on the shoulder. “We’re having more tequila and a round of drinks.”

“I think I’ve had enough to drink already,” I say hesitantly.

“Don’t be a chicken,” she scolds me. “We’re here to celebrate Meryl. We need to party it up.”

I bite my lip and look at Meryl, who smiles at me. “We’re safe here.”

“Okay, I’ll have a tequila and a strawberry cocktail thing.”

Devon turns to the bartender to order our drinks.

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