Page 1 of The Bratva's Sold Bride

Chapter 1 - Dimitry

The work site for my brother Max’s new diner was fantastic. Twice the size of the original in Hollywood, it was smack dab on some of the best beachfront property in San Diego. The place was shaping up nicely and was, of course, being fast-tracked to open within the next few months despite it being little more than a concrete slab looking out over the Pacific Ocean.

“So, what do you think?” Max asked, after he paced off where the stage, bar, and massive kitchen would be.

I forced a smile and a look of interest as he explained it was going to have the same feel as the one he’d recently rebuilt in Hollywood, after it had been burned to the ground by one of our family’s many enemies.

“The only thing different will be no movie star psychopaths,” he added.

“We can hope, anyway,” I said.

It wasn’t like I was bored by his new business venture, which he had every right to be proud of, or hearing about how blissfully happy he was now that everything was settled down and going well with his wife, Brooke.

Brooke was amazing, and I was thrilled they’d gotten everything they wanted and deserved. I didn’t begrudge dropping everything to move down to San Diego to help keep their secrets, either, so why was I in such a shitty mood on such a beautiful morning?

The sun was just peeking over the buildings across from the empty lot and casting long shadows down the sand as we walked around what would be an outdoor bar and dance areaonce the place was completed. A few seagulls hopped away as we stopped at the water’s edge, and then Max turned and perused the blank slate from a new direction. I looked at Max instead, smiling despite myself at how happy he was.

His proud grin slipped as he turned slightly toward the cordoned-off parking area. “Ah, finally,” he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “About damn time.”

I followed his gaze, and my mood instantly lifted; at the same time, I bristled at Max for scowling as his assistant hurried toward us, carrying an order of coffee cups.

About damn time was right, but I was far from irritated to see Olivia. As usual, she wore a prim skirt that skimmed her knees and clung to every lush curve of her hips, and that ass I was almost drooling to get a glimpse of. Her crisp white blouse had one too many buttons done up for my liking, but what could I do? I wasn’t her boss, much to my consternation.

She’d been assigned to Max two years ago by our eldest brother Aleks, who’d known her father for a long time. Giving Olivia a job in our organization had probably been a favor at the time. I was certain Max had probably balked at being saddled with someone untrained, but she’d turned out to be heaven-sent in keeping him organized and on track. Nothing seemed to faze her, so I assumed she’d grown up around the Bratva in some capacity.

Olivia was the kind of woman I heard people describe as cute as a button, but to me she was pure sex in ballet flats, and right now was no exception, especially with her dark curly hair flowing free in the breeze for once. Usually, she kept all those glossy waves tied back tightly, and my hands flexed at my sides as she got closer to us, wanting nothing more than to slide my fingers through it.

The long strands flew into her pretty heart-shaped face and she pursed her full, pink-glossed lips as she tossed them back over her shoulder. Not for the first time, I silently cursed my two older brothers. Aleks for not assigning me this rare beauty who could also effortlessly keep everything in perfect order, and Max for getting to have her by his side every day.

It should have been me.

“Good morning,” she said, handing Max a cup from her cardboard carrying tray. “Sorry, I’m a bit late. The line at the coffee shop was insane for some reason.” She smiled at me as she held out the next cup. “One sugar, no cream,” she said briskly.

Just like I liked it, and I made a point to brush my fingers against hers as I took the tall cup from her delicate hand.

She gave me a look from under her long, inky lashes, and was that a blush creeping up her softly rounded cheeks? If it was, I didn’t get a chance to feel smug about it because she quickly looked away and got her tablet out to take notes as Max reeled off lists of things that needed to be done.

I sipped the perfectly brewed coffee and followed them as they made their way back to the foundation slab, unable to suppress a pleased groan as the rich taste hit my tongue and the caffeine made its way to my veins.

“Perfect as always, Olivia,” I said, smirking when she didn’t turn around to acknowledge my compliment. That was okay; the view I had of her backside was every bit as satisfying as the piping hot drink she’d given me.

“You can always count on Jen’s Java,” she tossed over her shoulder, never breaking stride with Max as he kept barking orders.

I caught up with them, but had no more interest in whatever Max was saying. I only had eyes for Olivia as she started taking pictures of the construction site and adding notes to each one.

Something was different about her, and my focus on her grew more intense. Today, my scrutiny had little to do with my secret attraction to her. Yes, she was exactly my type, or had grown to be the longer I knew her.

She had always been the pinnacle of professionalism, so much so that I was beginning to take it personally. I wanted to find a way to shake her out of it and do something that wasn’t so perfect. Getting her to break a few rules—with me—had become my greatest goal since spending so much time with her when we all moved down to San Diego to help keep Max’s marriage a secret and expand the Fokin empire.

I flirted with her shamelessly every time we had a moment alone together. Making her laugh was the highlight of my day. Seeing her cheeks flush with high color got my own blood roaring. Olivia never once flirted back, but there was always a glimmer in her eyes at my teasing, no matter how hard she worked to hide it.

Today was no different in terms of her never missing a beat, but her smile when she handed me my drink didn’t reach her eyes. Those shining, guileless brown eyes were usually as unsullied as my black coffee, but today, they were clouded with something that had me instantly on edge.

What was bothering her, and how could I make it right?

Did Max know something was wrong, and if so, why wasn’t he doing something about it? Why the hell wasn’t she mine, so I could delve deeper into whatever was clearly weighing so heavily on her?

The more I kept my laser focus on her, the more I picked up, and with Max, too. He was also on edge about something I hadn’t noticed before, and I didn’t like being left out of the loop.

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