Page 17 of The Bratva King's Pregnant Bride

“Then why not eliminate him?” Feliks asked, putting his elbows on the table. “I don’t mind giving you an advantage.”

I shook my head. “I know. This isn’t about revenge, even if it would bring me pleasure.”

“I see… So you don’t plan on taking action unless he does something stupid.”

“Precisely.”

The waitress brought a fresh bottle of vodka, and I looked outside as she nestled it in the bucket of half-melted ice. This place reminds me too much of Moscow.

Batting her eyes at Feliks, the waitress asked, “Would you like dessert?”

We gave her our orders, and she sauntered away, glancing over her shoulder.

Feliks, however, was ignoring her, his eyes fixed on me. “You’ve got to stop this.”

“What? You’re telling me to leave the problem for someone else to fix? Besides, I told you I don’t intend to do anything unless he provokes me.”

“I know you, brother,” Feliks said, frowning. “If you kill him now, there will be rumors. People will ask questions.”

I scoffed. “They wouldn’t be able to prove anything, Feliks—you know that. Besides, who cares what happens? If I kill him now, he’ll just be dead.”

“Maybe so,” Feliks answered slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “However, if he dies now, he won’t have to be a problem.”

I chuckled. “Now you want me to kill him?” I leaned forward, holding his gaze. “Trust me, brother. I’ve got it under control.”

Feliks gently spread both hands. “I trust you.”

The conversation turned to other things, and soon, my eyes fell on certain group of people. They stood out among the regular patrons; they were younger, and even though their attire was elegant, there was an air of novelty one didn’t see often among the elite. Suddenly, I felt my eyebrows lift as a surge of excitement jolted through me.

There she was: Maya. Sipping from a glass. Her eyes, the curve of her smile, and that rich brown hair all called to me. And, just like that, that beastly possessiveness that had emerged in her presence reared its head.

Well, well, well. Isn’t this a sight to see? And to think, I’d only come here to see my brother, but was instead given the gift of finding my little mouse in a place like this. My eyes tracked her, from her head to her toes, my excitement hardening into arousal as my cock stirred in my pants.

Shit, she was so fucking sexy; I wanted to drag her away from there and lock her up in my house. She was mine—that sexy body she was showing off right now was mine.

Feliks eyes followed my gaze.

“The brunette,” I said.

His eyes lit up. “Oh. You know that pretty thing? She looks fuckable.”

Knew her? Oh, it was more than that now—I was going to own her.

“You will watch your tongue if you don’t want me to feed it to you.” I glared at Feliks and his shit-eating grin.

He chuckled, thoroughly entertained by my rage. “So, the pretty thing already has you wrapped around her finger, huh?” He arched his brow.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “That girl is mine.” Wrapped around her finger? No. She was the one I intended to cage in my grip.

Feliks’ smile curved into a look of pity. “Oh, the poor thing.” He was obviously enjoying my agitation. “She’s caught the eye of a psycho. She’s never going to escape you now.”

I found it in me then to smile back. Oh, I was going to make sure of that.

She and her friends were drinking together at the bar, where they sat between two men with long hair. They were laughing. The guy with dark blonde hair was smiling, and his body language told me he was cocky. As they laughed, I found it hard to maintain my smile, but I managed.

One of the boys from her group casually draped his arm over her shoulder, causing a stir within me, and my expression darkened.

I tightened my hand into a fist at just the sight of another man’s hand on her. It made me want to snatch her away. It had taken all my control to stay away from her all this time, but now I knew I’d never let her out of my sight. It was impossible; she plagued my thoughts every waking moment and even infiltrated my dreams, as well.

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