Page 1 of Forced By the Bratva King

Chapter 1 – Sierra

“How do I look?” Madelyn asked, blowing herself a kiss in the air as she admired her reflection in the standing mirror in front of her.

Her purple dress hugged her body, accentuating her figure as she stood elegantly on that pair of heels.

“Absolutely stunning,” I replied, sitting on the edge of the bed, my eyes darting across her shape.

She radiated with elegance, and her perfume filled the air. Madelyn leaned closer to the mirror, smacking her glossed lips. With her hands on her waist, she switched poses like a runway model, whipping her shoulder-length blonde hair sideways.

Yeah, that was Madelyn Grace, my best friend—the fun one. She was confident, beautiful, and, well…graceful in all her ways. She had the height of a model, so a lot of people thought she was one whenever they first met her.

For Madelyn, growing up in an affluent family in Chicago had its perks, and a vibrant social life was definitely one of them. She was used to living life to the fullest, and for her, some things were just another Tuesday. For instance, hitting the club, which, by the way, was what she was all dressed up for right now.

Once again, she checked herself out in the mirror, smoothing down her knee-length gown, which shimmered in the lights, as she added a final swipe of lip gloss.

Madelyn was gorgeous, and she knew it, so she didn’t care about unnecessary compliments, especially from flirts. She wasn’t rude or anything; she’d just come to terms with her beauty.

And then there was me—Sierra Lane. I was twenty-one, Irish-American, and a cybersecurity expert. Unlike my best friend, I was basically a hermit.

I didn’t roll well with crowds, which was why I never went to college for a degree. I was the type of girl who loved her own space—the type who would sit in a place for hours like a ghost, undetected. I liked to be invisible to people. It saved me a lot of drama most of the time.

I always dodged Madelyn’s invites to party hard at a friend’s or a nightclub, giving flimsy excuses no matter how ridiculous they sounded, and she would always respect my decision. However, tonight was different. Madelyn wouldn’t take no for an answer.

She had just graduated college with flying colors and was hell-bent on celebrating this big win. When she told me about her clubbing plans, I honestly couldn’t find it in me to let her down. This was a huge success for her and for me, too. So, despite my reservations, I would have to adjust…at least for her. But I was still skeptical about the whole thing.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” She glared in my direction, her blue eyes pinning on me like a hook to a fish.

“Uh….” I glanced at the gown neatly lying beside me on the comfy bed.

“Come on, Sierra, we talked about this. Don’t tell me you're having cold feet now,” she said, cocking her head to the side.

“No, I’m not. I’m…I’m just….” I let out a sharp exhale, stumbling on my words as I struggled to come to a conclusion.

“You’re justwhat?” Madelyn’s eyes held a glint of warning against disappointing her, arms folded across her chest.

She could be so intimidating sometimes.

“I’m not used to these sorts of outings, you know, so it…it feels weird,” I confessed, avoiding her eyes.

Madelyn pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed softly. “Listen, Mother Teresa.” She stepped forward, her heels clickingagainst the floorboards. “I know this isn’t the type of life that suits your personality; I do—I get it.”

“Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?” I squinted at her.

“Because thereisone,” she replied keenly. “You’re such a Rapunzel; for such a long freaking time, you have locked yourself in your stupid tower—and by tower, I mean your room. Your only companion has been the hum of computers and the clicking of keyboards. Being an understanding friend, I’ve tried—God knows I’ve tried.”

I watched her with raised brows as she vented her bottled-up feelings in a stern but harmless manner.

She sat beside me and continued, “I have put up with your silly excuses; you’re either too busy bypassing a framework or cracking a code or rushing home to feed your cat—and you do not fucking own a cat—”

I laughed at the cat excuse; it was a silly one, indeed.

“But I am done with all that bullshit, okay? I have tried to understand you. No more sleeping in while I party. You’re coming with me, Aurora. End of discussion.”

Okay, that wasn’t a discussion; it was a monologue.

“Quick question,” I began. “Which am I exactly: Mother Theresa, Rapunzel, or Aurora? I’m so confused right now.”

“Oh, wow, you made a joke.” The sarcasm in her reply couldn’t be any more obvious. “Get dressed.” Madelyn got back on her feet. “Tonight, you’re Cinderella—wild, sexy Cinderella who’s gonna lose a shoe at the club.” Her physical demonstrations were rather theatrical, her hands swaying elegantly as she talked.

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