Page 12 of The Bratva's Auctioned Bride

I couldn’t keep the pleased tone from my voice. “Right. And the universe was certainly on my side tonight.”

I caught the slight surprise in his tone. “You managed to get her?”

“Fair and square. Took a bit of back and forth, but yes, she’s here now. That means my plan is still alive and well.”

There was another beat of silence before Damien chuckled. “I’ll be damned…planning on hitting the blackjack table with all that luck?”

I snickered. “I figured I wouldn’t tempt fate. That being said, I need you to get a start on making some arrangements for me.”

“Alright, what do you need?” He asked, sounding less resistant then, and more curious about what I had in mind.

There was no fighting the smug smirk on my face then as I leaned back in my seat and sighed.

“I need you to make sure Lara and I are married by the end of the weekend. Pull whatever strings you need to…and it doesn’t need to be anything flashy. Just make it happen.”

I couldn’t help but feel like everything was going better than anticipated, and soon enough, I’d have exactly what I wanted.

Even if I never really pictured myself getting hitched, it seemed that my life was about to change, and I was in for an interesting weekend.

Chapter 7 - Lara

I didn’t want to admit how comfortable the bed was, but given the long, terrifying, and infuriating night I had, I couldn’t help but fall asleep as soon as I felt far too exhausted to put up a fight.

Not a single dream crossed my awareness all night, and I had no idea how long I had been sleeping, but the moment I opened my eyes, I couldn’t stand the feeling of that dress against my skin any longer.

With everything hitting me at once, from being abducted at the gala, auctioned off in some grungy club, and trapped in Alex’s house, that anger and resistance came back to me all at once. Of course, I couldn’t ignore the streak of fear that accompanied those feelings.

I had no way of knowing what would come next for me.

While Alex seemed mostly docile and not as aggressive as he could be, I knew not to underestimate him. He obtained his money and status somehow, and I had the feeling it wasn’t from being a saint.

I knew better than to assume that, and regardless of how much I wanted to disobey him at every turn, I had to be careful. I had to be smart, even if it felt impossible to know how to navigate anything thrown at me at that point.

Sick of lying in bed and feeling completely helpless, I pushed myself up and adjusted the front of my gown before I approached the closet, wondering if I might find something else.

Sure enough, as I slid the door open, I was met with a walk-in closet full of clothes.

At first, my brows furrowed in confusion, left to wonder if those clothes belonged to someone else, if Alex had a wife orsomeone he was hiding me from. But as I went up to a rack of garments, I reached out and took a black tag between my fingers. It was brand new.

I glanced at the others, only to find them all still covered in tags. It was as if he bought them all at once and had them waiting for me.

A chill moved through me as I considered it, eyes shifting over the wide array of clothes.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say he had been planning the whole arrangement. But that seemed crazy to even think about, that he would have premeditated it all and was prepared.

How would he even have had time to prepare if I was captured the same night he won me at the auction?

The thought lingered in my mind for a moment as I glided my palm over the rack of clothes, stopping on a gray, relaxed-looking crewneck to pull it off the rack.

But again, I knew better. It didn’t matter that he had a short time to prepare himself to keep me stowed away at his house. The time crunch was irrelevant when he had lots of money, and surely had people doing things for him behind the scenes.

The idea of him planning it all made me incredibly angry, but the feeling of still wearing that gown infuriated me even more.

I forced out a breath, pushing the thought away as I slipped out of the gown and put the crewneck and a pair of leggings on before I spent some time in the bathroom, trying to feel vaguely normal.

He may have had me locked away, but I wasn’t going to let him take my dignity. That was for certain.

After leaving the bathroom, I paced the room for a moment. I was more than aware that I still didn’t have my purse, wallet, or phone, which meant the likelihood of being able to contact my family was at zero, and them being able to track me was also very unlikely.

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