Page 19 of Arranged Marriage By the Bratva

“Yes?”

“Does the Bratva have a punishment for stealing from the family?” I keep the question as light and curious as possible, continuing to work, keeping my eyes on the screen.

Yegor grunts and does the same. “The punishment is harsh. Trust me. An inside mole is the biggest betrayal. Torture, and most likely death is their only way out,” he remarks casually, my stomach turning. He catches on to why I might be asking and stops typing, looking over at me with a deadpan expression. “Why? Did you find something suspicious?”

I want to blurt out what I’ve found, but something holds me back. What if he’s in on it and receiving a cut from Bogdan? I don’t completely trust him, regardless of how well we’re getting along.

Nikk. I have to tell Nikk, but with piles of evidence, otherwise he’s going to think I’m lying too.

Smiling politely at Yegor, I break out into a snicker, keeping up the charade. “No, maybe it was me planning on doing the stealing.”

Yegor shakes his head in amusement. “I wouldn’t, I warn you, unless you want the Russian brand of punishment. You’ll end up having to eat your own fingers for breakfast.”

“Eww!” I screw up my nose, but in truth it’s not as if I’m naive to the different tiers of violence.

“Exactly. You’ve made me want a coffee, so I’m going to take a break and get a snack. Want anything?”

“Yes. A cream cheese bagel if there’s any left.”

“Alright.” I keep digging, creating my own special folder and sending the information to myself. I need more…. I answer emails, my eyes glazing over, needing a break, and it leads me over to the blogs of New York celebrity news.

I balk a little when I see Nikk on the screen, a picture-perfect statesque blonde-model type gazing into his eyes like some captivated fawn.

Gawping, I shake my head, outraged at his hypocrisy. “What the fuck is this?” I ask out loud in an animated tone. “You tell me not to make a mockery of our marriage, but you can?”

The outline reads: Veronica’s rekindled spark with New York’s hottest eligible bachelor Nikkita Orlov. Is there a second-chance romance in the cards?

And it only gets worse in the fine print. Spotted out on the town together looking extremely cozy.

Chapter Fourteen

Nikk

Twice in a row with Veronica is bad enough, and the New York paparazzi are hungry beasts who will do anything to get a story. Loosening up my tie, I exhale, entering the front door, finding myself looking forward to seeing Elena.

Why is she getting under my skin so much? It’s a business relationship, Nikk. Keep your head on straight. My thoughts regretfully return to Veronica. Beautiful arm candy on first sight, long blonde hair, incredible legs, bright blue eyes, pretty teeth, and tanned skin. Who wouldn’t want to brag about having a model on their arm? It was a shame that when she speaks, nothing of substance comes out.

Ours was a physical arrangement, and it worked well for my needs, and hers. She got to go out to swanky New York restaurants and pose next to one of New York’s most notorious Bratva men, but it had to end, and that was almost a year ago.

The woman is like a clingy cat. So fucking annoying. “So good to see you Nikk. We should get a photo together,” she cooed, and there were too many people in my face at the time to refuse her.

“Maybe not, Veronica. We don’t need a photo opp. Besides, don’t you get enough of those?” I explained under my breath as coldly as possible, so she got the hint. But as the cameras flashed, the lights buzzed in my eyes, and she stole her moment, linking her arm through mine after the luncheon. I was there to entice new investors for the launch of a lemon spritzer range I wanted to try, but she put an irritating damper on things.

She’s nothing like my L’vitsa; now that’s a game cat I like dealing with. Confused by my constant thoughts of Elena, I refuse them, pushing them away. She’s been on my mind constantly, and it can’t be a good thing.

As the door creaks open, I find Elena in her favorite spot in front of the TV with her arms crossed, a glum look on her face.

Dropping my hands into my pants pockets, I stroll over towards her, but this time I’m not as amused by her anger. It’s getting to me, and I’m damned if I don’t know why.

“Evening. Are you watching anything interesting?” I quiz, a seething glare the first thing I’m met with. It’s obvious she’s pissed at me about something or other, and that could be any number of reasons. Maybe it’s to do with that toad, Matteo, and just like I push the thoughts of Elena burrowing under my skin out of my mind, I do the same with him.

“I might not be watching something interesting, but I sure did read something interesting, didn’t I?”

“Oh? What was that?” Curious, I study her features, unable to look away, finding a nook to sit down next to her in.

“I fucking saw you!” she accuses, kicking out her foot to shove me further down the couch, but I curl my hand around her ankle, daring her to try again.

“You saw me? Yes, you’re seeing me now, L’vitsa. What are you talking about?”

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