Page 2 of Claimed By the Bratva Brothers

The third man looks me up and down. He’s bigger than the one they call Max in every possible way. Yet he fits nicely into his dark blue tweed suit. He could probably bench three of me without so much as a strain.

“You just missed him,” the mountain says, his tone flat.

“Ivan, hold on,” the tennis player replies, unable to take his eyes off me. “You said you had an interview with Bowman?”

“Yes,” I say with a stern nod. “How could I have missed him?”

Max chuckles dryly. “Artur, I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here.”

“I’m so confused right now,” I whisper, mostly to myself.

A sly smirk forms on Artur’s lips. “What’s your name?”

“Lyric,” I say. “I’m a PhD candidate, and Mr. Bowman graciously agreed to have an interview with me regarding my doctorate thesis. This meeting has been scheduled for a couple of months now. I need it to happen.”

“Lyric,” Ivan mutters. “That’s an interesting name.”

“My mother was on the artsy side,” I shoot back, then start looking around again. “So, where’s Mr. Bowman exactly, and who are you?”

“You should take a seat,” Max says. “We need to talk.”

That sounds ominous.

I’m not sure why I am still here and not running for the hills. Despite the fact that these three ooze danger through every pore, my survival instincts are stalled. It’s as if I’ve just walked into the lions’ den, except the lions aren’t scaring me as much as they should.

“I’ll ask again, who are you, exactly?” I say with surprising confidence, taking a seat on one of the velvet sofas.

The lounge area of the suite is sleek and minimalistic, decorated in soft, earthy tones, while the outdoor terrace offers a splendid view of the hotel’s backyard—sprawling gardens and pools nestled beneath a massive wrought iron and glass roof. All of my senses are overwhelmed as I continue to try and wrap my head around what is going on.

“I’m Max,” Max says. “This is my brother, Ivan. And this is our brother from another mother, our best friend and business partner, Artur.”

“Okay,” I mumble, suspiciously eyeing each of them. “That gives me your names but still doesn’t explain who you are and why Mr. Bowman is absent.”

“We didn’t answer the first, or the second time you asked,” Max says. “Do you think the third time’s going to be a charm?”

“I had an appointment with Mr. Bowman,” I insist, keeping my chin up.

I spot the hint of a smile dancing across Ivan’s lips through his trimmed lumberjack beard. “I do like her slightly prissy attitude,” he tells his brother. “It’s kinda hot.”

“Excuse me?” I croak.

“Here’s the thing,” Max laughs lightly. “Mr. Bowman left the building. He has some… issues that he needs to deal with. Had we known that you were coming, Lyric, I promise we would’ve let the interview happen before sending Jack on his way. Alas, we did not know, so allow us to apologize and make it up to you.”

“You sent him on his way? What the hell is going on here?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Max, you’re confusing our guest,” Artur groans and rolls his eyes. “Don’t mind him, Lyric. Let’s just say Mr. Bowman won’t be available for any interviews, or anything else, for that matter, at least for the next few days.”

“What? Why?”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” I hear Ivan mumble.

What is that supposed to mean? I can feel my heart start to race. Artur picks up on my anxiety and takes a seat on the sofa next to me, keeping a warm smile on his face, like a gracious host. “Forgive Ivan, he doesn’t like it when people ask a lot of questions.”

“Or when they talk at all,” Max grumbles, prompting a light laugh out of Artur.

Ivan, however, doesn’t budge or show any type of emotion at all. Yet surprisingly, I start to wonder how I’d feel if he got closer to me…. Curiosity might indeed kill the cat.

“Okay, so what you’re telling me is that Mr. Bowman isn’t here anymore. That, I understand,” I reply, my voice trembling slightly. “I’d still like to know who the three of you are, though. Should I reschedule the interview through you, or do I need to get a hold of his secretary? How exactly does this work?”

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