Page 24 of The Bratva's Forced Bride

“What?”

They moved to the edge of their seats; all humor was gone. Damien’s eyes hardened and narrowed. “You found Logan?”

“Yeah. Last week, in Chicago.”

“Roman mentioned that you have visited him, but didn’t disclose why,” my brother said. He scratched his brow and slammed his fist on the table. “Fuck, I can’t believe he’s back.”

My brother’s anger was one reason I wasn’t ready to talk about Logan yet. If Roman or Damien had gotten their hands on him first, I would have heard his murder story on the news. But Logan was my business to take care of, I gave Irina my word.

If anyone were going to put a bullet in his head, it would be me.

He was at the top of Bratva's list of enemies. After he broke Irina’s heart and disappeared from the scene like the coward he was, we swore to make him pay, to make him suffer for what he had done.

I drank from my glass and set it aside. “You'd better believe it. I saw the bastard and was glad I finally had the chance to punch him in the fucking face. But he’s not as stupid as we think. Even after all that, he got away.”

Viktor made an eye roll and murmured, “Great. So, we’re going on a hunt now?”

“Not exactly.”

Damien rose a brow. “You have a plan?”

I smiled. “When do I ever not have a plan?”

Colorful lights in the halls flashed above our table as another artist took the stage. This time it was a woman with long brown hair, dimples, and a voice that seemed like an antidote to the catastrophe that had occurred before her. As she sang the slow remix of a familiar song, memories of Addison standing at the sink humming came flooding back. And how her voice pierced the depths of my soul, like light piercing the darkness.

“Mark?”

I heard my name as if it were being called from a deep canyon.

But all I remembered were her sighs in my ears and her taut nipples rubbing against my chest through her thin bra. At that moment, as we were pressed together in front of the mirrors, I could barely cling to the thinnest thread of self-control.

I wanted to slam inside her, shatter every fucking glass if I had to, and fuck her hard and raw the way my cock ached to. She messed with my common sense and left me even more tense than I already was when I saw her in each of those fucking dresses.

Except for that fucking Chinese dress. It did nothing for her figure, and that’s why I liked it.

It served as the perfect distraction, taking my eyes off her beauty. Until I barged into the changeroom and saw her standing there in nothing but fucking underwear.

More and more images buzzed around in my head, and I felt the swelling in my pants. The perfect curve of her ass cheeks in my hands, the softness of her lips, her blazing amber eyes, and the tenderness in her voice as she called my name.

“Dammit, Mark!”

“What?” I didn’t hide my irritation, snapping out from reverie.

“What’s the plan, genius?” My brother gesticulated with his hands, “To catch Logan Mercer?”

I looked up to meet their gaze. “I have his fiancée. Archie Mason’s daughter, Addison. I’m sure he'll be back soon. Fuck the hunt. I want that asshole to come crawling to me, begging me to spare his miserable life.”

“It’s been a week now,” Viktor pointed out.

“And?”

Damien frowned. “Mark, Mercer hasn’t returned for the girl. What if he’s not so serious about her, what then? You stand a chance of losing him again.”

“That won’t happen.”

Viktor rolled his eyes and took his glass to his lips. “I admire your confidence.”

“You should because I will do something that will make him fly back in a flash.”

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