Page 23 of Paid for By the Bratva

With each word, he’s inched closer and closer, and one more word and his lips might as well be down on mine. We stand there, panting, each enveloped in our personal anger. The moment stretches on, and I part my lips, weakening from how strongly he holds me.

“Dima,” I whisper, and his eyes shift. It feels like he was lost somewhere else, and just found his way back to the moment. His eyes flicker over mine and trail to where he holds me. He releases me in a rush and quickly steps back.

“No, Lara,” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t spying on you. As I said, you can do what you want. But you do need to tell me where you’re going so that I can know you’re safe. It’s the same courtesy I’d extend you. That’s whatfamilydoes,” he insists, his voice softening at the last words.

My anger starts to ebb away, replaced by a mix of confusion and a strange warmth at his unexpected words. Family? It's the last thing I expected him to call us.

But in a strange way, isn’t that what we’re doing now? Living together, like a family.

“I’m sorry, Dima,” I say softly.

“Where were you going anyway?” he asks gruffly.

"I’m feeling so suffocated, Dima," I almost whisper, surprising myself with the vulnerability in my words. "I can't just sit here day after day, living a life others want for me.”

"And you couldn’t come to me with that?” he growls, his eyes darkening with anger at this secret I harbor. "You want to go outside? Let's go. Together."

My heart races as I stare into Dima's dark eyes, trying to gauge his intentions. "Wait, what?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his expression determined. “If you feel suffocated, we’ll go out together. I wasn’t spying, but I do care about your safety. Everything with Marv is still so fresh. I’m guessing you don’t have plans with friends tonight. So, I insist to accompany you. Wherever you want, wherever you want, just say the word.”

I blink in surprise. This is so not how I expected this conversation to go down.

Chapter 8 - Dima

When I asked what she’d like to do, Lara told me she wanted a hot dog. I couldn’t help but laugh, remembering all the wild nights I saw her embark on when she was sneaking out from right under her brothers’ eyes.

“Leave it to me,” I said in the garden, taking her arm and pulling her along for a night that I hope she’d treasure enough to confide her future desires with me.

Now, we stand at the entrance of the high-end club I have in mind for tonight. Her wide, nervous eyes flit from the pulsating dance floor to the well-dressed crowd gathered around the bar, and finally, they settle on me. I sense her anxiety and assume it’s from all that bullshit with Marv during her stints at clubs like these.

She ought to know she’s safe here with me and that there’s nothing wrong with a bit of innocent fun.

"Hey," I say, closing the distance between us. When I approach, I notice her body tense up. A possessiveness that takes over me. She's my wife now, even if this marriage was forced upon us by circumstances, and I hate watching her be anything but herself around me. "You don't have to be afraid. Just let loose and have fun."

"I…I'm not sure," she stammers, biting her lower lip. It's an endearing habit she has when she's feeling uncertain, and it only makes me want to protect her more.

"Come on, Lara. It's just one night out. I promise I'll be by your side the whole time, and we can leave whenever you like," I urge her, trying to keep my voice gentle and reassuring. Inside, though, I feel torn—part of me wants to let her enjoy herself, while the other part wants to shield her from the world. Andyet, we both need this break from reality, a chance to forget the complications of our lives for a few hours.

"Okay," she finally agrees, nodding her head tentatively. "But you have to promise not to leave me alone, alright?"

"Deal," I say, offering her my hand. "Let's just focus on having a good time tonight."

***

The pulsing beat of the music vibrates through my chest as I lead Lara toward the VIP room, her delicate hand resting in mine. The flashing lights cast kaleidoscopic patterns on her cream-skinned, heart-shaped face, making her undeniably alluring. I notice a few men glance in her direction, their gazes lingering on her a little too long, and a strange protectiveness stirs within me.

I shield her from their looks with my body and guide her forward.

"Here we are," I announce, guiding her into the dimly lit room with plush private sections and a panoramic balcony providing a mesmerizing view of the energetic crowd below. "The best seats in the house."

"Wow," she exclaims, her wide eyes taking in the surroundings—bottle service with sparklers, an exclusive bar, and a private dance area. A glimpse of excitement dances in her gaze, and I can't help but feel relieved she’s liking it here.

"Let's get some drinks to start the night off right," I suggest, hoping that a little liquid courage might help her further relax and enjoy. She hesitates for a moment, then nods in agreement.

"Please," she nods. “Vodka water lime.”

I guide her to a couch and take a seat beside her before waving over a server to order vodka for Lara and whisky for myself.

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