Page 46 of Forced Marriage Vows

She’s married to one of the high-rankingsoldatyin the Bratva, one of Igor’s personal guards. He’s with Igor right now, having left her alone. Vulnerable. I assume she was meant to be a part of the escape plan as well, but my men got to her before she could run off into the sunset with her husband.

She glares at me as she’s brought forward, pride etched into her expression. She’s definitely going to be a tough nut to crack. Her expression falters a little when she recognizes the man at myside. Anthony’s quiet as he takes everything in, his expression rigid and unaffected.

I can see the wheels turning in Lana’s head, wondering why Igor’s only son is standing next to me. When she comes to a conclusion, she scowls, the lines on her face becoming harsher.

“You’re a traitor to your name, Anthony,” she spits in Russian.

Volatile. Just the way I like it.

“Take her to the room,” I order.

Anthony pretends the woman hasn’t said anything as we all move to one of the interrogation rooms. It’s filled with everything I could possibly need to make any man or woman feel more pain than they could possibly imagine. But when it comes to women, my means of torture are a little less violent. I try to avoid it if I can.

There’s a single chair in the room, and Lana sits on it. She continues to glare, not in the least bit cowed. It would be admirable if I didn’t dislike the woman even before all of this. She’s prone to sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. And for a woman who’s a wife to a meresoldat, she sure does have a high opinion of herself and her position in the Bratva.

“You won’t get what you want from me, Morozova,” she starts, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Interesting. And what is it you think I want?”

“Whatever it is, you’re not going to get it. You’re scum. You and your bastard traitor of a father. And to think Igor trusted your father once. If only he had known that would only end with him being stabbed in the back.”

“Igor’s never trusted anyone but himself,” I state. “And if you call me scum again, I’ll personally make sure you regret it. Now, we’re going to start over and you’re going to tell me exactly what it is I need to know.”

She smirks, looking not in the least bit scared. But she should be. As I expected, she faces Anthony.

“Does your mother know what’s going on? I’m sure you’ve spoken to her. Or does she not care that her husband is being hunted and her children are lying with the enemy?”

Now that’s interesting.

“My mother’s business is none of your concern, Mrs. Petrov,” Anthony replies, surprising me with his calmness.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about Yulia Vasiliev as well. The woman has been floating about for as long as I can remember, spending brief bursts of time here in the mansion before disappearing again. She hasn’t been to Chicago in over a year. As far as I know, the only person in communication with the woman is Anthony.

While I can’t deny a lack of understanding of their family dynamic, a part of me can’t help but despise the woman. If for nothing else than her obvious complete disregard of her daughter.

“Your father would be so disappointed in you,” Lana says sadly. “You had so much potential. You could have had everything. Instead, you chose to be weak, a coward.”

I think she’s trying to make Anthony angry, but her words don’t have the intended effect. She might as well be a fly buzzing in his ear for all the attention he’s paying her. He turns to me instead.

“Are you going to do something or not?” he asks in a bored tone.

I arch an eyebrow, “You sure you want to be in here for this next bit?”

“As long as there’s no blood,” he tells me on a shrug.

That makes me grin. I’m strangely proud. There might be some of the Bratva in him after all. I gesture at one of the guardswho gets the message and exits the room. He returns a minute later with a container filled with water.

“I can get up to a lot of fun things without making people bleed, Ant,” I assure him.

The guard gets into position, placing the container in front of Lana Petrov. I smile as I watch fear finally fill her eyes.

“All you have to do is give me the location for the safe house, Lana. And then it all ends.”

“Over my dead body,” she spits in Russian.

“I’d be really careful what I wish for if I were you,” I tell her before offering the guard a short nod. “Begin.”

It’s time these people understood exactly how far I’d go to establish myself as Pakhan. If this is what it takes to not be seen as weak, I’m willing to do it and so much more.

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