Page 13 of The Bratva's Sold Bride

I wasn’t letting her go for anyone now that she was mine.

As soon as she realized we were turning into the airport, she sagged in defeat until I parked the car to wait for my associate’s jet. Straightening up and turning to me, she gave me a beseeching look with wide eyes, the rich color of cocoa. They were full of so many emotions I couldn’t sort them all out, but anger still simmered in their depths.

“Are you really going through with this?” she demanded. “Going against my wishes, and against my dead mother’s wishes, too?”

“That was a low blow,” I said. “But do you think your mother would prefer it if you were in this same boat, but with Rurik Kuzmin at the helm instead? Because that’s what your father’s original idea was before I stepped in and offered my services.”

The twin circles of color on her cheeks drained away at hearing that, but she bravely never broke my gaze.

“You could just let me go,” she said softly.

“Never.”

How could I when she was the most beautiful, enthralling woman I’d ever met? When every fiber of my being yearned to make sure she was safe at my side. I kept my eyes locked with hers, starting a silent war to make her understand. She stopped glaring at me at least, but turned away, slumped against the window. After that, we waited in charged silence for the plane to arrive. She wasn’t giving up; far from it. But neither was I.

Chapter 8 - Olivia

I didn’t know if I was more shocked or furious, but either way, I wasn’t able to speak for a long time. I had spent a solid half an hour of our silent, tense drive to God knew where, and once I finally worked up the power to express how much I couldn’t stand this situation, I was shut right down with a heavy dose of ice-cold reality.

I couldn’t move, frozen to my bones at what Dima told me my fate might have been. My father would have sold me to Rurik Kuzmin? A man even the most ruthless kingpins didn’t mess with unless they had to?

It shouldn’t have been possible, but my heart was just about broken. My father had always held me in disdain, considered me a nuisance at best and a waste of space at worst. If it weren’t for me constantly sweeping up his messes and his need to have a punching bag when he was in a sour mood, he would have forgotten he had a daughter long ago.

But did he really hate me so much that he would have sold me to the Kuzmins? It was bad enough that he’d sold me to Dima, but at least I knew him.

Or did I? Did I know him at all, even a little bit, if he was capable of this? I’d thought of him as a friend and even confided in him, and he’d already used that knowledge I imparted against me. Or did he use it to save me?

The small plane that Dima had wrangled arrived and as a crew began to go over the flight check and top off the fuel, I began to seriously panic. That wasn’t good. I needed my wits about me because I had no idea where we were headed. Or even why.

Why was he doing this?

After we parked, we sat in his car for a few minutes, then he said he was stuffy and wanted some fresh air. I stayed behind out of stubbornness as the car slowly turned into an oven, finally getting out to sit as far as possible from him without him thinking I was trying to make a mad dash. As if that would work.

Now, I turned to him, and he immediately looked away from his phone to raise a questioning brow. His complete awareness of my every move even when he didn’t appear to be paying any attention to me, made my skin ripple with goosebumps. He was like a lithe tiger, ready to pounce.

I didn’t like the feeling of being anyone’s prey, especially not someone whose sky-blue eyes could make me melt. I crossed my arms as if that was any protection at all.

“Are you just doing this to get me out of a bad situation?” I asked, ignoring his mild smirk at boiling down the risk of ending Rurik Kuzmin’s plaything as merely a bad situation. “You don’t really mean to make me go through with this marriage, do you?”

Infuriatingly, he only rolled his eyes and got up to speak to the pilot, who was heading our way.

This was it. Time to go to the terrifying unknown. Panic began to close in on me, and I glanced around wildly. The airfield was surrounded by high fences, and the few gates were manned by guards who would slow me up if not outright stop me. It was laughable to think I’d make it ten steps anyway. No, there was nowhere to run, no one who’d help me, and even if I miraculously managed to get away somehow, there would be nowhere to hide.

I might not have known Dima the way I thought I did, but I knew the Fokins. If they wanted you found, you’d be found.

It was better to accept things—for now. Anything was better than being sold to Rurik Kuzmin. Thinking about my close call brought a fresh rush of anger toward my father. It was easier to be mad at him than consider the very real possibility that Dima had jumped in and made his own offer out of pity.

He knew Kuzmin far better than I did, and what I knew made me shudder with disgust and terror. So, of course, it had to be pity on Dima’s part.

What else could it be? I absolutely refused to think he was doing it for noble purposes because I didn’t want to have any kind of warm feelings for him at the moment. Wanting to marry me out of attraction had me snorting with bitter laughter. The man was rich, powerful, and freaking gorgeous. Models and socialites clambered for his attention, which he freely gave. At least, he used to. It seemed like the past few months, he’d been too busy to date much, something I shouldn’t have noticed, but I did.

Pity was the only logical answer, and it made my skin crawl. I hated pity, hated charity, and I hated not knowing what was going on.

Anger was better; it kept me from collapsing into a heap. I glared at Dima’s back as he continued speaking to the pilot, probably telling him our destination, something he refused to tell me.

He hadn’t answered my question at all, but I had to believe the marriage nonsense was all bluster for my father’s sake so he wouldn’t try to drag me back into his problems if Kuzmin wasn’t satisfied with mere repayment and found out about the lost shipment of guns.

Dima would never really make me go through with such a thing. Despite hating being the object of his sympathy, himhaving it showed he was the kind man I believed him to be. I’d seen him go out on a limb for his friends many times before.

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