Page 17 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

Vladimir's eyes gleam with something I can't quite decipher. "Indeed we shall, Wife," he rumbles, reaching for two abandoned champagne flutes.

As we clink glasses, I find myself reevaluating my new husband. He's still an enigma, dangerous and unpredictable. But perhaps, just perhaps, there's room for me to carve out a life of my own within the confines of this marriage. It's a small spark of hope, fragile but undeniably present.

I sip my champagne, my mind already racing with possibilities. This is just the beginning, I realize. The real challenge lies ahead—navigating the treacherous waters of the Zolotov family while keeping my own secrets safe. They, and my own brothers, must never find out what I’m up to with the gangsters plotting to bring the Orlovs down. But for now, I allow myself this moment of cautious optimism.

***

My heart pounds as I slip out the back door of the Zolotov mansion, the cool night air kissing my skin. It's been three days since my wedding, and Vladimir's absence tonight presents the perfect opportunity. I’ve observed his hours over the past few days. He leaves for work early and returns late. There’s no reason I’d get caught tonight. I simply have to be back around midnight. I straighten my designer dress and slide into the waiting taxi, giving the driver the address to the nightclub.

As the city lights blur past, I run through my mental checklist. My cover story is airtight, my nerves steel-clad.

The pulsing beat of Club Rivera greets me as I step out onto the sidewalk. I take a deep breath and enter.

Inside, the air is thick with smoke and pheromones. I scan the VIP section, my gaze landing on my target—Alexei Volkov, a street thug known for his loose lips after a few drinks. He also runs odd jobs on the Crimson Crew, the gang I’m spying on.

I hike up my dress just a little and saunter over, all calculated grace and practiced charm. "This seat taken?" I purr, gesturing to the empty space beside him.

Alexei's eyes rake over me appreciatively. "For you, Kira? Never."

I settle in, flashing him a coy smile. "Don’t you look like a man who knows how to show a girl a good time."

He chuckles, signaling for the waiter. "You have no idea, Kira. Tell me, what are you drinking tonight?"

I lean in, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "Whatever a guy like you wants to treat a girl like me to."

Alexei's grin widens. "A girl like you deserves the best." He slides a hand up my thigh. Instinctively, I tense up. But I can’t let my discomfort show through. He needs to think I’m harmless, and I need him to want to impress me. Only then can I get information out on the Crimson Crew.

So, instead, I laugh and pull back. “Now,” I say, flicking my hair over my shoulder. “What about that drink?”

“A bottle of your finest champagne,” he orders from the waiter, his eyes glued completely on me.

Our drinks arrive, and I lean in closer, our faces mere inches apart. “So,” I bite my lower lip. “Tell me if you did something bad this weekend.”

“Well, I don’t mean to brag.” He flexes his muscles, as expected, slurring a little. “But we did steal a shipment this week.”

“Oh really?” I look impressed, eyes-widening. “From that…Oltov group?”

“The Orlovs, yeah.” He nods enthusiastically.

What an idiot. He’s lapping it all up and giving me all I need.

“What about you?” he asks, leaning in closer with a glint in his eye and downing his drink. “You got any plans after?”

I laugh, a tinkling sound that belies the intensity of my focus. "Oh, maybe," I breathe, my fingers tracing patterns on his arm. "But first, why don't you tell me about that other shipment coming in next week? I hear it's quite… valuable."

Alexei's hand once again slides onto my thigh, his touch making my skin crawl beneath the silky fabric of my dress. His hand glides up higher, and I force myself to remain still, my smile unwavering as I lean in closer, feigning interest.

"Ah, you're a curious little thing, aren't you?" he slurs, his breath hot against my ear. "That shipment… it's big. Bigger than you can imagine. But I shouldn't say more."

His fingers creep higher, and I fight the urge to recoil. My heart races, but I keep my voice steady. "Oh, come on," I tease, trailing a finger down his chest. "Surely you can tell me a little more. I can keep a secret."

Alexei's grip tightens, and I realize I've pushed too far. His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Why do you care? Let’s just have some fun, Sweetheart.”

I laugh, the sound brittle even to my own ears. "Of course we’re having fun. I just find you… intriguing," I lie, desperately searching for an escape route.

Just then, he slides his hand around my waist, pulling me closer, nearly onto his lap. I quickly push him away and stand. Immediately, I note the anger in his eyes.

Fuck.

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