Page 12 of Paid for By the Bratva

I know it sounds like a justification, but it’s the only explanation I can give. I need her to believe it’s all about strategy, not about how much I can’t stand the idea of her being with anyone else. Deep down, though, I know it’s more than that. It’s about keeping her safe and keeping her close.

“Lara,” I grunt. “Come on now. Which is it? Will you tell someone you can trust? Or should we take the leap?”

She takes a few moments, then shakes her head with resignation. “No,” she murmurs. “You’re right. I can’t go to anyone else. My brothers, they’ll—“

“I understand,” I cut her off. “I have sisters, too.”

She doesn't argue any further, trusting me for some reason. “Fine,” she whispers. “I know you’re right.”

God damn it. We’re in it now.

Marv wouldn’t dare cross me or her now. I cast aside the small sliver of guilt building within me in my heart, listening to my head. While Marv won’t cause trouble, I don’t know what kind she might get into. By making her my wife, I can keep her close and through that, ensure my family remains safe. Shecould bring another dangerous person into our lives if she’s let back to her reckless ways.

Right?

"We'll have to keep up the act, at least for now," I continue. “Pretend to be in love, appear in public as a couple. We'll also have to announce it to our families."

I pause, hating myself for the fear in her eyes. But it's the only way.

"I know it's a lot to ask. But I promise I'll protect you with my life." I tip her chin up to meet my gaze. "Do you trust me?"

Her breath hitches, and she nibbles her lower lip. But she nods.

Relief floods through me.

"Good girl. This is for the best, you'll see." I extend my hand and she takes it after looking at it like it might be diseased. She trembles when my fingers graze her arm, and I wonder why. Does my touch do to her what hers does to me? Or is it that she’s afraid?

Knowing this is a question I can probably never ask, deducing that I might just have made the biggest error in judgment and aware that as a man of my word, I can’t go back on what I proposed; I just focus on the next step forward.

And so, I lead her out of the alley into our new shared future—one where she belongs to me and me alone.

Chapter 5 - Lara

I blink at the sight before me. An opulent gothic church rises into the steel gray sky, its spires piercing the clouds. Stained glass windows line the exterior, filtering the dreary light into rainbow hues.

I stand there, looking up. Once we enter, there’s no turning back.

“You ready?” Dima asks from where he stands beside me. I look up at him and the first thing I observe is how the scar across his cheek seems to be silver under the moonlight.

“Can anyone ever be ready for a thing like this?” I ask.

“A thing like this…” he repeats what I say and clucks his tongue. “It’s best we get used to calling it a marriage now.”

“Not a marriage,” I say, a tad bit too sharp. “A wedding for strategic purposes, I can live with. A marriage is far more intimate.”

“Well, the world’s going to have to believe it’s a marriage,” Dima chuckles at my defiance. “Perception is everything.”

I swallow hard. This man, powerful and dangerous in equal measure, is soon going to be my husband in the eyes of the law.

He holds out a hand in invitation, his eyes gleaming with triumph. I stare at his outstretched palm, my mind racing. I agreed to a wedding, and he called it a marriage.

“Lara?” His voice washes over me. I look up to see his furrowed brow accentuating the deep set lines on his forehead. Oh, dear lord. What the hell am I thinking? He’s over a decade older than me, and I’m out here, ready to walk down the aisle without telling a single soul.

“My brothers will kill me,” I whisper.

“We’ll deal with it,” he says without skipping a beat, his gray eyes burning through me. He sounds so sure of himself that there seems to be no room for me to worry about such things.

I inhale, my breath trembling in my throat, and he leans forward, touching my cheek. I jerk momentarily, caught off guard, but don’t move away. Now is probably not the time or place, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. Reaffirming, almost. It calms me.

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