Page 10 of Paid for By the Bratva

“Well, that wasn’t enough,” Marv spits from the corner of his mouth, looking over at her lecherously. “So fuck off unless you want to buy her.”

I can do this in two ways. The long way, which would involve him getting nothing but a beating. And the short way, which would mean Lara reaches my side quicker. “I’ll buy her,” I say, pulling out bundles of stacked bills and throwing them on the floor.

Lara whispers, “No!” and my eyes flicker over to her as she pales and trembles in fear. I can only imagine how this looks, but I have no time to explain it’s the fastest way out of here.In noway do I own her.She averts her gaze, now blushing, and I turn my focus back to the idiot in question.

Marv’s eyes the tens of thousands of dollars on the street, and he looks up at me in shock, his hands still holding Lara back.

"As I said, let her go,” I command with rage. “And get your filthy hands off her!” My voice is ice-cold, barely containing the fury that rages beneath the surface.

"And who the hell are you?" he demands, clearly not realizing he’s beat, eyeing me up for one reason alone. He wants to see if he can make me pay more. A man like Marv is weak, and I’ve met many like him. They view women are objects, and the only way to make them back off is to make them believe she belongs to someone else.

Someone like me.

Without skipping a beat, I play his game. “What I’m interested in knowing is what the fuck makes you think you can threaten my fiancée.”

I hear Lara gasp, and he pales in the face.

“Your…your fiancée?” he sputters. “Well, she’s been cheating on you then! And I’ve got photos to prove it,” he tries to turn me against her.

Lara's eyes meet mine, and I see the silent plea for help in them. She doesn't have to say a word—I already know what I need to do. Protecting her is my responsibility now, and I refuse to let her down.

“It’s recently been announced, and the past isn’t my concern. To strengthen the bonds between the Orlovs and Zolotovs,” I command.

“O…Orlov?” he stammers, now shifting away from me, recognition dawning on him. I see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He knows who I am, and he knows what I'm capable of.

“Not just Orlov,” I spit on the ground before him. “Dima Orlov. Now that you know the name, you might have heard just what I’m capable of,” I glower and, in a swift second, pull out my gun, pointing it right at his head.

"Mr. Dima, Sir, I was just…" Marv stammers.

My voice drops to an icy hiss. "If you touch my fiancée again, they'll be finding pieces of you from here to Jersey. Even the dogs won’t be able to sniff you out."

Marv pales. He knows I have the power to back up that threat. He takes a step back, hands raised.

"Sorry, Sir, I didn't realize she was your…" He trails off at my murderous expression.

My eyes trail from his face to where he holds her back, his grip still strong on her arm. He follows my line of sight and almost trembles, quickly pulling away. She stumbles away from him, rushing toward me on weak legs, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "She's all yours, Sir,” he whispers.

Lara reaches my side, and I quickly hold her just as she’s about to trip on a loose tile. She leans into me, my hand protective on her waist, and her face, all seared with tears and parted pouty lips, is one I’ve never been more grateful to see. I don’t want to let her go, and my hand, where it touches her, is ablaze to feel more. She blinks, and I root myself back to reality.

What the hell am I thinking?

She’s safe, unharmed. And that’s all that matters. I can’t go having such ravaging thoughts about her. I help her find herfooting and turn back to Marv, who has now picked up all that cash and is trying to step further and further away from me.

“Not so fast,” I say, pointing my gun back at him. I walk closer, menacingly slow, and he shrinks into himself. “Your phone,” I command.

He hands it to me without question. “Open it and I need to access your cloud.”

He does as I say. I scan through his pictures and files, and a surge of unwarranted jealousy burns through me. To see him kiss Lara, watch him feel her lithe, curvy, almost naked body, makes me want to break his jaw.

Doesn’t Lara know how gorgeous she is? Doesn’t she realize she’s far above a low-rung creep like him? Why the hell did she ever get in a pool with him? She deserves better.

I delete each image, praying to delete them from my mind, too. Once done, I go to his outbox, delete the photos sent to Lara, and crush the phone beneath my foot.

“Now,” I tell him, placing my gun to his chest. “If anyone finds a single one of these images, I will come for your head. I don’t care if you didn’t pass them around. I don’t care who does. One single photo out and about, and I will skin you alive, tear each nail, claw out your eyes before I give you death. We clear, asshole?”

"Absolutely clear," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay away from us,” I warn. “Now, go.”

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