Page 14 of The Bratva's Sold Bride

He waved me over and I kept my distance during the flight, along with a stony silence. I had already asked a question and I wasn’t saying anything more until he answered it. We were in the air for only a couple of hours, which meant the mystery location wasn’t Russia, at least.

As I disembarked on the small staircase, I was greeted by a blast of much hotter and steamier air than LA. The tiny airfield was surrounded by tropical flora, with a vast jungle threatening to encroach on the tarmac. Mountains rose from the acres of lush green foliage, giving off the feel of a huge wall blocking us in.

“Welcome to Mexico,” Dima said, holding out his hand to help me down the last few steps where I’d stopped to gawk at the scene before me.

I gasped, looking around for the customs office that had to be nearby. “I don’t have my passport.”

I didn’t have anything, not even the suitcase I’d left in my car at my father’s house. Dima had dragged me away with only the clothes on my back. He rolled his eyes, as not having identification was ever going to be a problem for someone like him.

Sure enough, we were driving away from the airfield in a rugged Jeep before I knew it. Dima turned the air on full blast and aimed it at me, but I refused to act even slightly grateful. I was still refusing to speak to him on principle, but during the flight, I’d managed to calm down from panic mode.

What I figured was going to happen was Dima was going to hide me in one of the Fokin’s many safe houses for a few days or weeks at most, until everything was settled with theKuzmins. His family was their biggest rival, and they were always scrabbling to take a chunk of the Fokins superior power and territory. Dima was trying to keep me off their radar so nothing would lead back to them and kick off a war.

I could handle a safe house where my biggest worry would be that there’d be something to read. Since I’d grown up on the fringes of this life and had been exposed to so much since working for Max, having to go into hiding sometimes wasn’t too crazy. I’d even been in charge of outfitting several safe houses in my time. I knew the drill.

But we didn’t end up at a house at all. Instead, we drove into a quaint little village that appeared out of nowhere as we passed some farmland that had been carved out of the jungle. Despite its small size, the village seemed to be pretty vibrant and bustling, with a little motel next to a cantina at the outskirts. We passed a couple of markets and a coffee shop and finally pulled up outside an ancient adobe church with a steeple housing a big iron bell.

Any other time I would have thought it was all utterly charming, and if I had my phone, I would have been snapping pictures left and right. But the sight of the church and the ramifications for why we might have been there in the first place hit me like a brick to the face.

A man in priest’s robes ran over to the driver’s side, and Dima greeted him as if they knew each other. A young woman pulled open my door and urged me to come with her using hand gestures and a few words of English. Dima was deep in conversation with the priest but as soon as I looked at him in complete confusion, he turned my way and nodded that it was okay to go with the girl.

Okay, this could have meant anything at all. The girl introduced herself but her name immediately flew from my mind as she helped me change into a pretty white cotton dress with brightly colored embroidery at the hem. She worked like a whirlwind, brushing out my hair and swiftly twisting it into a knot on top of my head, then dabbing at my cheeks with blush and my lips with a pink gloss.

Nothing registered and I let myself be turned and moved like I was her favorite doll, and in no time at all, she tugged me from the back room of the church to the foyer where Dima waited.

He had changed into a dark suit that fit him as well as any of his bespoke designer suits he wore to work. His normally tousled, golden hair was smoothed off his brow, and for a split second, it looked like his blue eyes actually sparkled when he set them on me.

No. This wasn’t really happening.

He reached over and tapped my chin. “Better close your mouth before you catch a fly,” he said.

Was he joking right now? This whole thing had to be a joke, because I had already laid all my worries to rest. But why was he in a suit, why was I in a white dress, and why were we at a church instead of the damn safe house?

And, oh God, the priest was back, smiling at both of us and urging us to head inside the chapel.

I gripped Dima’s arm to keep from sinking to my knees. “Are—are we really getting married?” I stammered, forgetting that I wasn’t speaking to him.

He laughed. He actually laughed. “Did you ever doubt it?”

It was official.

I hated Dima Fokin.

Chapter 9 - Olivia

Breathe. Take a breath.

I was in a foreign country, in a town I didn’t even know the name of, surrounded by people who were clearly loyal to Dima, and without any money or identification. Not even a phone. In short, I had nowhere else to go besides down the aisle, and he damn well knew it.

Breathe. Do not pass out.

When I could finally see through the haze of rage that overtook me, Dima still stood next to me, looking better than he had any right to in his new suit. I still wore a white dress, and my shaking hands held a bouquet of wildflowers tied together with a white satin bow. How did that happen? Who gave me these flowers?

Dima should have been grateful my hands were full, or they might have been wrapped around his neck. I took another breath and studied him. He was no longer smirking, probably because he could see how close I’d come to passing out. When he reached for me, I took a step back.

His brow furrowed, but he forced a smile, glancing through the arched double doors leading into the church. I followed his line of sight to see the priest waiting for us at the pulpit. It wasn’t a big church, but my imagination made it seem like he was a hundred miles away, and yet way too close.

Dima nodded at the carved wooden lectern the priest stood patiently behind. A large cross hung behind him and angel statues stood sentinel on either side of the podium. Neither of them made a move to save me.

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