Page 9 of The Bratva's Forced Innocent Bride

“I think I need some water,” I said, making him laugh, like I’d told a hilarious joke.

“Anything you want,” he purred.

I pinched my leg under the table to prove I was awake. “I think I want to dance,” I said.

“Then let’s dance.”

I bobbed along giddily behind him as he led me back toward the dancefloor, which was bursting with sweaty bodies. This was the life, and any thought of my jobs or my studies had long since flown from my head. I was in Hollywood, the guestof the owner, and dancing with my childhood hero. I didn’t even feel self-conscious or like a flopping fish because my favorite band was playing live, and the new shoes must have had magic sewn into their fine leather soles.

After a fast song, the band started one of their ballads and I looked all around for Max, almost wishing he’d cut in so I’d have that memory with him. The requisite awkwardness washed over me as everyone else on the floor started coupling up and I started to retreat back to my spot by the bar.

Luca took my hand and leaned close. “I can tell how much you love this song,” he said, his breath warm next to my ear. “We have to keep dancing.”

Well, okay, if we had to. It was one of my favorite songs, and having Luca Ross’s arms around my waist was surreal. This wasn’t quite the memory I wanted to make, but it was going to be really something to tell my future grandkids when we watched his movies together that I’d actually danced with the man on the screen.

It was only a few seconds into the song when Luca suddenly was dragged backward by a big hand on his shoulder. It was like he was flung away like a rag doll, all the way off the dancefloor. I stumbled and regained my balance, blinking through the dim, strobing lights.

What the heck was going on, and who would dare to do such a thing?

It was Max, now standing between Luca and me, and he looked like he was about to breathe fire.

Chapter 4 - Max

I wasn’t back from the mini emergency in the kitchen for ten seconds when I saw my woman tangled up in the arms of another man. And not just any other man, but fucking Luca Ross, who I’d been butting heads with since college. Some might have called him a rival, but he wasn’t on my level, nor would I ever sink to his, so I didn’t consider him that. Not really an enemy, either, but someone I didn’t trust as far as I could throw the bastard.

Back when Luca was still Luca Rossi, and just another starving actor, I was learning the ropes of the family business. While I was making contacts all over the place, he was weaseling his way into any role that was up for grabs. He used any means necessary to get what he wanted, and before I saw what an actual scumbag he was, I used some of my newly formed contacts in the industry to get him one of his first important breaks.

I respected anyone who worked hard for a living and obviously couldn’t get on a high horse about what means they used to get ahead. Shady Dealings was my middle name. But Luca wasn’t just shady in his dealings, he was a monstrous narcissist who threw temper tantrums when he didn’t get his way, stepped on everyone in his orbit, and, worst of all, in my eyes, disrespected women to the point it might be considered abusive. No one had yet come out with a big tell-all story, but the women who’d been unfortunate enough to get into and out of relationships with him had the look in their eyes of old Vietnam vets.

It was only a suspicion, and I didn’t have proof, but I still had plenty of other reasons to hate the guy. We stayed cordial and acted like friends because that was how things worked inthis town. I had a lot of dealings with people in the lucrative film industry, and it was better not to rock the boat.

I wasn’t thinking about any of that when I saw that smarmy asshole’s hands on my girl’s waist, pulling her close like he was trying to sniff her or something. My first instinct was to shut the whole place down, stop the music, and burn the dancefloor. Thankfully, I went with my second, which was to storm over and wrench him off of her, flinging him toward the bar. It was only my long-practiced self-control that kept me from breaking his famous nose.

Brooke looked flustered, upset, and embarrassed as she scrambled off the dancefloor. The crowd was only mildly curious, too caught up in the live music to care much, and too used to scuffles like this breaking out due to the constant high drama of being surrounded by huge egos.

Brooke gave me a look that made me worried she was going to demand that I do something that might make me puke, like apologize to Luca, so I took her hand and hauled her through the kitchen and out the back, where my car was waiting.

I hadn’t even gotten the motor running when she turned to me with slightly glassy eyes and a stern downturn to her lush mouth. I leaned back in the seat and waited for her to let me have it.

“That was completely uncalled for,” she said. “How dare you do something like that to—”

“There are things you don’t know about him,” I said, cutting off her defense of that cretin. “And you don’t need to know, so don’t ask. But you should stay away from Luca Ross.”

To my surprise, her anger seemed to dissipate, and her eyes lit up with that morbid curiosity everyone seemed to haveabout super famous people. “You have to tell me after acting like that,” she demanded.

“I told you not to ask.”

“I’m not asking. You owe me after that scene.”

Oh, I liked her fire; I liked everything about her. I rolled my eyes at the adorable, stubborn set of her jaw. “Well, if you know what my family does and that doesn’t faze you, maybe nothing will.”

Her eyes got even bigger. “I don’t know what your family does. Tell me.”

It was clear she was more than a little tipsy, but she honestly seemed intrigued, so I told her, curious to see if it would put her off. Curious and a little apprehensive, not that it would stop my interest in her if it did.

“So, that’s the Bratva in a nutshell,” I finished after giving her a very brief outline of what my family and I did to gain our vast fortunes and power.

“Wow, organized crime.” She seemed fascinated.

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