Page 22 of The Bratva King's Claimed Bride

No doubt he’s the guard assigned to me to ensure I don’t try to escape again.

They take me to the dining area, and I sit down on the left side of the table. Yvonne is sitting opposite me.

“You took forever,” she comments. “Olga, Marie. Please bring out breakfast.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were waiting for me.” I watch as Olga and Marie leave. “Yvonne, I really am honestly sorry. You tried to befriend me when I had no one, and I abused that. Please try and forgive me.”

She looks at me hesitantly and sniffs. “We’ll see how you behave. If you stop trying to run away, then perhaps we can try to be friends again.”

I give her a small smile. “Thanks.”

A plan is formulating in my mind. Perhaps this little tryst with Igor isn’t the worst thing that can happen to me. After all, the Milovs are a powerful mafia family, and I was just going to screw them with some bad property sales. This way, I might have more of a reach to them.

Breakfast is brought out, and my mouth waters. A plate is set in front of me with bacon, fried eggs on toast, and what looks like hash browns. Then, a bowl is set above that with freshly cut fruit and a bowl next to that with what looks like piping hot porridge. Oats, from what I can see, with a spoonful of butter on top.

First, I pick up the small bowl of oats and mix in some sugar with the melting butter. Then, I taste it.

“This is so good,” I murmur. I take another mouthful and hashasha as it’s hot in my mouth.

Yvonne shakes her head. “Eat some fruit while it cools, then it’s easier to eat.”

I set it down and picked up the fruit bowl. “What types of fruit are these?”

“Melon, kiwi, and dragon fruit,” she says as she eats from her own bowl. “I’m saving the pomegranate for lunch.”

I nod and start to eat. The fruit is cool and sweet, definitely fresh.

Coming from a background where my family fed me scraps, this is certainly a change. It is strange to be so easily accepted into this family and then fed and treated well.

“If you give me your apartment address, I will send someone to fetch your things,” Yvonne says as she starts on her main plate of food.

I set the fruit bowl down. “I can’t even go there?” I ask quietly.

“No,” Yvonne says sternly. “Igor says you’re not to leave the house until you learn to behave. Unless it is with him, of course.”

An awkward silence befalls us, and I finish breakfast hurriedly, ending with the now tolerable but warm porridge. Yvonne gets up and leaves before I can say anything, and I look around the room.

I’m unsure what to do, so I turn to the guard. “What’s your name?”

“Alfie,” he says, his hands clasped in front of him.

“What am I allowed to do, Alfie?” I ask. “In the house, I mean.”

“You can look around. You’re just not allowed out yet.”

“So, like a puppy,” I say coldly.

He shrugs. “I don’t work for you. Take it as you will, and if you have a problem, take it up with the boss.”

I stand up and walk out of the room, and Alfie follows. I walk toward the secret hallway but see a guard standing outside the door.

I didn’t think it would be available anyway.

I wander around the downstairs section of the house, which seems to be the more social part.

Large dining halls, dancing halls, and entertainment rooms. Even a home theater.

The whole time I’m moving around, I think about the Milovs and how Igor seems to want revenge as much as I do. Perhaps this can work out in my favor.

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