Page 42 of Ruthless Bratva King

“You’re toying with me!” I snap, my voice rising.

He laughs, but it’s humorless, a sharp, bitter sound. “I won’t apologize for who I am.”

I take a shaky breath, trying to steady myself, but his intensity is like a tidal wave, crashing over me, pulling me under. “You’re asking me to give up everything to be with you. That’s a big fucking deal.”

“Is it?” he asks simply, stepping so close that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “From what I could tell, you gave up being dumped on from a great height. Shitty apartment, shitty family, shitty life.”

His words hit me like a lightning strike, igniting something deep inside me. I should be angry. I should push him away. But instead, I feel myself leaning in, drawn to the fire in his eyes, the unrelenting force of his presence.

“You’re a prick,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

“And you’re starting to see the truth,” he replies, his voice rough with emotion. “I may not be normal but at least I give a shit about you. I’d never fucking leave you behind like they did. They don’t deserve your pain.”

Before I can respond, he grabs me, his hands firm but gentle as they pull me against him.

My hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer even as my mind screams at me to stop. But it’s impossible to think, impossible to resist the pull of him, the sheer force of his intensity.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his eyes dark with desire. “You want sweet lies or the harsh truth?”

His gaze softens, just slightly, as if he sees the war raging inside me. “You decide, Elena. Join me in there or don’t. Your decision.”

He crosses to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.I stand frozen, staring at the minimalist furniture, the sleek perfection of this space. It doesn’t feel like a place where I belong.

I drag a hand through my hair, my heart pounding as memories surface, unbidden and raw.

My family’s faces blur together in my mind, their cold gazes, the sharp edges of their words. My mother’s constant disappointment.

My father’s sneer of disapproval, his rare moments of attention always transactional. The pranks, always at my expense.

The feeling of being an outsider in my own home. Unwanted. Unloved. The job I took straight out of high school, working as a waitress, giving them all my paychecks, every last cent.

I close my eyes and exhale, gripping the edge of the dresser for support. Dmitri is nothing like them, yet everything I’ve spent my life trying to avoid. Dangerous. Deadly. A man who lives by his own rules, unapologetically ruthless.

And yet, he’s also protective. Loyal. Raw in a way I’ve never experienced before.

Heseesme.

Not as a pawn to be used or a burden to be discarded, but as something more. Something worth protecting, even at a cost.

That terrifies me.

But it also draws me in, like a moth to a flame. I think of him holding that knife in the dark, looking like he was about to kill me.

This isn’t about romance. It’s not about love or happily-ever-afters. He hasn’t promised me any of that, and I don’t expect it.

I turn and walk to the door, opening it slowly. Dmitri is standing on the other side, his hand still on the back of his neck as he paces, his shoulders tense.

He freezes when he sees me, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that steals my breath.

I swallow hard. “I’m choosing to trust you,” I say. “Am I making the worst decision of my life?”

“Probably. Now turn around.”

31

ELENA

My body moves before my mind catches up, obeying a command I don’t fully understand.

---