Page 48 of Claimed By the Bratva Brothers

Problem is, I also know what Polina is talking about regarding the benefits of their supposed marriage. It has everything to do with her father’s support, which the Sokolov’s desperately need. But it doesn’t mean I have to roll over for this stuck-up bitch. Not when I’m so deep into it with the guys, not when I’m carrying their child in my womb.

“I understand that you’re bitter about the past,” I calmly reply. “But from what I’m told, that’s on you and nobody else. And while an arranged marriage would sway support toward the Sokolov brothers, it’s not my place to discuss any of this here with you. I don’t know you, Miss Larionova, and you don’t know me, so how about we let the guys decide who’s who and what’s what?”

“I’m just trying to spare you future humiliation,” she sneers. “Soon enough, our engagement will be announced. Max has no other choice if he wants to remain head of the Bratva. The elders are not happy with his projected legitimate businesses. They stand to lose a lot of money with such a move. No matter how you feel about them, you’d best be on your way. You don’t belong here.”

“The only one who needs to be on her way right now is you, Miss Larionova,” I say, raising my chin in angry defiance. “Whatever Max decides, whatever Ivan and Artur decide, it’s up to them. I’m not walking away from anything unless they ask it of me. Until then, I suggest you mind your own fucking business and get the hell out of my library so I can finish my lunch.”

Polina stares at me for what feels like forever, clearly at a loss for words. “Excuse me?” she finally manages, shaking her head slowly.

“Get the hell out of here,” I reply with a shrug. “You’ve said your piece and I don’t give a shit. You’ll never see me quaking in my boots, so you might as well get on with your life. I have a lunch to finish and work to do.”

“You will regret this,” Polina says.

“I now regret coming into work this morning, that much is for sure,” I reply. “Had I known you’d show up, I would’ve intentionally overslept.”

“This won’t be the last you’ll see of me.”

I roll my eyes, having lost the last thread of patience I had left. “I sincerely hope it is the last I see of you because you’re boring me.”

She walks away but I know she’ll think of something to retaliate. Polina is the kind of woman who doesn’t take no for an answer, who bullies anyone she deems inferior to her. But my heart is already tightly bonded to Max, Ivan, and Artur in more ways than one. I’m willing to fight for what we have, even if it means making enemies of people like her.

My stomach still churns, thoughts of unsavory scenarios roaming through my head. Polina is barely out the door, and I’m already wondering if agreeing to an arranged marriage with her is the only way for the guys to truly forge ahead and save everything they’ve worked so hard to build.

What if she’s right and I am in over my head?

When evening comes, I wrap myself in the arms of my men, though I don’t tell them about Polina’s visit until after we make love, until after we’re sated and tired, basking in the afterglow and splayed across the bed like puppets.

Max draws invisible circles around my nipple, his gaze soft and warm. Ivan is half-asleep in my lap, one hand still kneading my thigh, while Artur gets up to pour himself a glass of scotch, naked and gloriously hung.

I adore this sight. I adore the feeling I get when I’m with them. This right here is my safe haven. My paradise. As weird as it may sound, as taboo as it may seem, it’s my Eden. I don’t want to lose it. Least of all to someone like Polina Larionova.

“Has your father said anything lately?” Max asks, planting a delicate kiss on my shoulder. I’m wrapped in their scents, a heady mixture of cologne, sweat, sex and cum. My favorite fragrance ever.

“No,” I lie and instantly feel bad, but I don’t have the nerve to bring it up yet. “It’s been quiet, for the time being. How are things looking on your end?”

“Murky, at best,” he says. “But there’s something you need to know Lyric, something we have to inform you about. It’s the right thing to do.”

I give him a startled look. “What is it?”

“Your father,” Ivan says, raising his head so he can properly look at me. “He’s dirty, Lyric. Dirty as they come. We can’t let him win that senate seat, which means we’ll have to start digging through his past, his partnerships, his everything.”

“I get it,” I say, a heavy sigh rolling from my chest. “In a way, I think I’ve always suspected he was. I think deep down I always knew with some degree of certainty.”

“You’re a brilliant woman,” Artur chimes in, having brought me a glass of scotch, as well. “It’s obvious that you would’ve figured it out by now.”

“No thanks,” I politely reject the drink. “Max can have it.”

Artur’s eyes narrow for a second, but he doesn’t hesitate to hand the glass over to Max, who takes it without a second thought. “Matthew Phelps is tied to Bowman and Smith, somehow. We’ll have to look at his campaign and his campaign contributions. We’ll have our people search—they’ll be able to dig up some skeletons.”

“Something tells me you’ll find plenty of them,” I grumble, staring at the ceiling for a while. “It pains me to even say it.”

“I know, babe. But if we’re to survive this, if we’re to take our whole business into legitimacy, we have to obliterate those who want to drag us down into the gutter with them,” Max says. “If we can take Phelps down, if we take Smith and his whole field office down, hell, if we manage to take Bowman down too, we won’t need any familial alliances within the Bratva. No favors, no negotiations. They will all understand precisely how we roll.”

“And they’ll either tag along or get left behind,” Ivan adds.

I chuckle nervously. “Speaking of alliances within the Bratva. Polina Larionova paid me a visit at the library today.”

Heavy silence falls over the bedroom as the men stare intently at me.

---