Page 11 of The Bratva's Innocent Bride

“Oh no,” she breathes, twisting in my arms, those bright eyes shining at me. “You caught me.”

***

“You’re not touching her,” I growl at Viktor, who’s limping on his leg, his face murderous.

“Where did she even get a knife?” he growls. “Who the fuck is this—this crazy person you’ve brought into our home, Boris?”

“That’s what you get for not patting her down at the chapel,” I chastise, though I wouldn’t have thought of doing that, either. What were the chances that a Mafia princess would be armed to the teeth?

My chest tightens when I think of how it felt, dragging Fiona up here to my bedroom, tying her hands to the bedpost, and patting her down. I didn’t want to be crass—but it was a good thing I felt every part of her because that’s how I found the knife hidden in the padding of her bra.

My neck flushes hot when I think of the way she looked up at me, through her eyelashes, while my hand dipped into her bra, touching the warm skin there, drawing out the knife.

Insane. This entire situation is just insane.

Then, after ensuring she was secure and weapon-free, we’d gone searching for the housekeeper, only to find her wearing Fiona’s clothes, tied to the bed, crying and choking on her gag, a tampon on the floor next to her.

That room was in a state, too—the bugs ripped out of their spots, the bookshelf covered with a blanket, shards of glass hidden throughout the space, as though Fiona was ready to slit a throat at any moment.

If I weren’t so annoyed with her preparation, I’d be impressed.

“Boris,” Viktor says, holding his leg and looking up at me. “Can’t you see that we have to get rid of that girl? She’s going to fuck us over, one way or another. She’s proven that she has the capabilities to escape. And when she does? What kind of information has she already gathered that she can take back to Allard?”

“She is not your concern,” I say, holding up a hand in front of his face. “Have you forgotten that we don’t kill innocents?”

“You call that innocent? Even if she doesn’t know about Allard’s mafia, there is something going on with that girl. You found a knife in her bra? We can’t risk her getting out and spreading out information. Or selling it.”

“We do not kill innocents,” I say, shaking my head. “And, if you ever lay a hand on her again, there will be consequences.”

“Can you hear yourself right now, Boris? I’m starting to think the blow you took to your head when you were taking this woman has knocked your brain loose.”

“Focus on yourself, Viktor. Ask Roman to help you if you can’t carry on with the questioning yourself. But Fiona is my problem to deal with—do you understand? Make it clear to the rest of the men that nobody is touch a single hair on her head. Or there will be hell to pay. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Viktor says through gritted teeth. “Absolutely crystal clear.”

I watch my brother limp down the hallway and hear him muttering something about how insane I’m being. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of my choices. All that matters is that he obeys my commands, which I believe he will do.

Viktor has been reckless in the past, just like with this move, kidnapping Allard’s lackey, but I’ve made myself clear about Fiona. Laying a hand on her would be a direct violation of my orders. I decide that I’ll have a conversation with all my brothers—warn them that Fiona can be tricky but that she isn’t to be harmed by anyone.

I take a deep breath and turn into the room, rearing back when I see Fiona’s bindings hanging loosely from the bed where I had her.

“You should really double knot,” she says, and I whirl around, seeing her sitting in one of the armchairs on the other side of the room. She has her feet over the arm of the chair, a book in her lap, and a red sucker in her hand like it’s the most casual thing in the world that she got out of her bindings and is sitting in the chair right now. “I’m starting to think you’re not taking me seriously, Bor-y Wor-y.”

“Don’t call me that. And where did you get that candy?”

“But you’re my husband! Shouldn’t I get to have a pet name for you?”

“No.”

She smiles at me, running sucker over her tongue. My stomach clenches at the sight of her, my body urging me to be nearer to her, but I push that thought away.

Dealing with Fiona Chase is going to be a lot more difficult than I thought.

Chapter 6 - Fiona

When I wake up the following day, Boris is gone.

I stretch languidly in bed, taking my time and letting my back pop. Last night, Bor-y Wor-y wasn’t very happy that I’d gotten free from the little tie-up he had me in, and he made that perfectly clear as he tied me to the armchair, kind enough to leave the book in my lap when he left. He sent a servant into the room with me to keep a watch over me, and I recognized the man’s shoes—it was the butler from the hallway before.

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