Page 54 of Paid for By the Bratva

As I stride from the cafe to my car, possibilities swirl in my mind, and I can think of just one man who could be behind this. Marv. The smug fool who thought he could intimidate my wife. Is he testing me? Seeing how much I'll tolerate before snapping?

If so, he's dangerously close to finding out. Nobody threatens what's mine. I'll go to any lengths to protect Lara. And I'll make damn sure whoever is behind this video regrets the day they went after us.

I pull out my phone, and call Tony. "Find Marv's location, and send it to me ASAP. Put all our men on the ground if you need to. I want to have a little chat with him.”

Within minutes, my men deliver the information I need.

***

I drive toward the rundown apartment complex he calls home, pushing past all speed limits. I climb up to the third floor and take the right.

"Marv!" I shout, kicking open the door to the unit number I’ve received. Marv, sitting in front of the TV, smoking a bong, jumps from the tattered couch. His eyes widen with fear when they meet mine. Good. He should be afraid.

"Wh-what do you want, Dima?" he stammers, backing away slowly.

"Answers," I growl, closing the distance between us. "There's a video circulating that puts Lara in a bad light. I want to know if you're responsible."

"Wh-what video?" he asks, confusion flickering across his face. "I-I didn't spread any video, I swear. I don't even know what you're talking about!"

I grab his shirt, slamming him against the wall. "Don't lie to me! I know you're behind this."

Sweat drips down Marv's forehead. "I swear, I had nothing to do with it! I haven't made any moves against you or Lara, I promise! I wouldn’t want to mess with you, Man."

With a bellow, I pull out my gun and point it straight to his forehead. "Listen, Marv, you have two options," I say through gritted teeth, my grip tightening on the cold steel. "Tell me how you got that video online, or I will kill you right here and now. I promise you, I will make it look like an accident, and no one will even notice you're gone."

Marv's eyes widen in terror. Sweat pours from his forehead, and he grabs my wrist, pleading with me to calm down. "Dima, please, you don't want to do this. I didn't do anything! Look…just think about it. Why would I go up againstyou, an Orlov? When you told me she’s your fiancée, I backed off, Man. I made mistakes, but I’m not stupid enough to risk my own life."

As much as I want to disbelieve him, something in his expression tells me he's telling the truth, especially since he has a gun pointed at his head and is still unable to come up with the answers I need. Besides, I’d seen the fear in his eyes in the alley that night, the same fear he harbors now.

No. It is unlikely it was him.

But then, who?

I consider pressing further, but it feels like I'm chasing ghosts.

"Stay away from her," I warn him. "If I find out you're lying or if you ever try to harm her, there won't be anywhere you can hide."

With that, I storm out of Marv's apartment, the door slamming behind me. The drive back home is a blur, my mind filled with worry and unanswered questions. How am I going to protect Lara from an enemy I can't even identify?

My protective instincts are raging, unsatisfied. What kind of a husband am I, when I married my wife with a promise of protection, which I now can’t fulfill? My heart aches at the thought of Lara being hurt—and, by extension, our relationship suffering.

When I finally arrive home, my bad mood is palpable, darkening the atmosphere around me.

I step in through the front door and remove my coat. With a frown, I look out through the door before closing it, ensuring that the guards are stationed where they belong.

Then, I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Dima?” I turn to see Lara watching me with careful eyes. Her sight trails behind me and then reaches my eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, without thinking, my natural instinct to protect her from the day’s happenings. But the minute I do, I curse myself. I had promised her I wouldn’t keep things from her like that time she overheard Sofia and me arguing. And here I am, lying again?

“You don’t seem fine,” she caresses my cheek. “I called out to you three times, and you looked like your mind was somewhere else.”

I stare at the floor, feeling the weight of my secrets pressing down on me. I can't keep hiding the truth from Lara—if we're going to face this together, like I promised her we would, she deserves to know everything.

"Come on, Dima. You can tell me what’s going on. Did something happen at one of the clubs?" she asks, her voice filled with concern. "What's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath, I meet her gaze and decide to come clean.

"Lara, there's something I need to tell you," I begin, my voice strained with emotion. "There are some videos of you sneaking around the Philadelphia party scene from before we got married…someone got their hands on it and tried to spread it around on the internet. I thought it was Marv and went saw him, but he said it wasn’t him."

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