Page 8 of Paid for By the Bratva

If my brothers hear of this now, it could be our downfall. I can’t put them through trouble by having a powerful man blackmail me.

“What do you want?” I whisper.

He comes close and shoves me against the wall, pinning me. “Information. I want to know what business they’re in, who they’re dealing with, the ticket size of their contracts, and the shipping and trucking routes for their goods. Everything.”

My mind races, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The idea of betraying my family, my own flesh and blood, goes against everything I believe in. It’s a death wish, both for me and for them.

“But,” I speak the truth. “I don’t know anything about our business,” I cry out. “They don’t involve me in it. They never have! Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know how to get you this information.”

It’s true. In our family, the girls and women are often protected from whatever it is the men do. It’s their way to keep us safe, protected.

“You better,” he growls. “You have no choice.”

Before I can even process the gravity of his demands, Marv’s grip tightens around my waist and spins me around till my back is pressed against his. He twists one of my arms around my back and clamps a hand on my neck, his fingers digging into my skin.

My heart hammers in my chest as I struggle to draw breath. Fear and desperation claw at me, and the realization of the danger I'm in settles heavily on my shoulders. "P-please," I choke out. "I-I can't—"

"Can't is not an option, Sweetheart," Marv sneers. I can't suppress the tremble that runs through my body. I feel so small, so powerless against him. "Spy on them, or I'll sell you off to the highest bidder. Your pretty face would fetch a nice price on the market,"

My body tenses at his words as a cold dread settles deep in my stomach. Sell me to the highest bidder? “What are you talking about?” I choke out in fear.

“There are places you’ve never been to in this place, little girl,” he whispers in my ear. “Dark, dangerous places with dark and equally dangerous men. A grave beauty like you could fetch a pretty price. Before you know it, you’d be smuggled out of the country to sit in some man’s harem or whorehouse, never to be found again. You’ll disappear without a trace. And the money that’ll fetch me…”

The lump in my throat turns into tears. “No,” I cry out, trying to fight away from him. “Please, no,” I sob, the thoughts of what such men could do to me plastering horrific images in my mind. He’s talking about trafficking me. He’s more powerful than I thought. Fear and shame wash over me, the desperation clawing at my thoughts.

He’s too strong to fight against. I try to kick him in the shins as his grip on me tightens, and he tries to drag me back into the alley. “No!” I scream out, my heels digging into the ground. “Help!” I yell. Anyone, please, help.

I should have gone to my brothers. If only—

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoes through the alley, and a man appears from the shadows. “Let her go,” he says in a gravelly, commanding voice. Standing at over six feet tall, I can’t make out his voice, but I can see the outline of his body. Strong, powerful…

Marv releases me and shoves me to the wall behind him, prepared to fight. I gasp for air, instinctively clinging to the wall for support with one hand while clutching my throat with the other.

"This doesn't concern you, pal. Why don't you mind your own business?" Marv threatens, moving forward. He adjusts his jacket, revealing the sliver of a gun.

The man emerges from the shadows, and immediately, I want to sink to the ground.

No. This can’t be. Dima Orlov.Shame and embarrassment flood through me as I acknowledge that I've been caught in my reckless behavior by my cousin Anoushka’s brother-in-law.

He looks different from how I’ve come to know him. The suit left behind with the day, he’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that shows off just how broad his shoulders are. His closely cropped blonde hair frames a striking face with gray eyes, a strong jawline, and high cheekbones. Intricate tattoos snake down both his muscled arms, and I can’t help but think I never noticed how goddamn powerful and handsome he is. After all, I’ve never seen him outside a family setting.

Or maybe I think that in this moment, he’s god’s gift to me—a savior when I needed one.

“Come with me, Lara,” he extends a hand out to me, his gray eyes peering at my face, quickly making way down my neck and arms as though checking for injuries. Suddenly, I feelsafer than I have at any point since Marv started threatening me. Instinctively, I know that with Dima here now, he won’t let anything bad happen to me. Relieved, I step forward, but Marv blocks my path.

"I said, let her go" Dima says, turning back to face him as he notices the interruption, his voice low and menacing, as though each word is a promise of retribution.

"And who the hell are you?" Marv demands, sizing up the newcomer who refuses to back off, even after seeing the gun.

“I don’t think you need to be asking me that,” Dima says. “After all, what I’m interested in knowing is what the fuck makes you think you can threaten my fiancée.”

Wait, what? Fiancée?

Chapter 4 - Dima

There’s an issue with my card on the portable device, and the waiter insists I come with him to the computer system to try it there. I rush through it but am two minutes too late. My heart pounds as I search for Lara. She was at the bar just moments ago. Where is she now?

"Hey," I say, grabbing the bartender's attention as I lean over the counter. "Have you seen a girl about this tall, dark hair? Russian? She was sitting here, sipping water," I motion with my hand, trying to give him an idea of Lara's height.

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