Page 47 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

Our evenings are filled with quiet moments. Sometimes, we read in companionable silence; other times, Vlad teaches me chess, his patience surprising me. More than once, he carries me up to the bedroom. Every night, we make love until way past midnight.

"Checkmate," I announce triumphantly on our third night.

Vlad's eyes narrow. "You've been holding out on me, haven't you?"

I shrug, unable to hide my smirk. "A girl's got to have some secrets."

He pulls me into his lap, nuzzling my neck. "I look forward to uncovering every single one."

As the days pass, I find myself opening up more, sharing stories of my childhood and my hopes for the future. Vlad listens intently, his fingers often intertwined with mine.

"I never thought I'd have this," I admit one night as we lay in bed.

Vlad props himself up on an elbow, studying my face. "Have what?"

I gesture vaguely between us. "This… connection. I always thought I was too much for most men. Intimidating, cold."

He brushes a strand of hair from my face. "You don't have to be anything but yourself with me, Sofia. I want all of you—the ice queen and the woman beneath."

His words warm me from the inside out, and I pull him down for a kiss, marveling at how quickly this man has become my safe harbor.

***

I'm lounging on the couch in Vlad's study, my legs draped over his lap as he types away on his laptop. The rhythmic click of keys is oddly soothing, but curiosity gets the better of me.

"Any news?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual.

Vlad's fingers pause, and he looks up at me, his steel-gray eyes intense. "As a matter of fact, yes. My men have made significant progress infiltrating the Crimson Crew."

I sit up straighter, my heart racing. "Tell me everything."

He closes his laptop, giving me his full attention. "We've managed to place six of our most trusted operatives within their ranks. They've already uncovered some valuable information about their operations and hierarchy. They’ve weeded out the bad guys. Threatened the lower ranks, who turned on the higher in fear. We have removed three men in command who are threats to the Orlovs, and it’s been done in such a way that it can’t be traced back to us."

"That's… impressive," I admit, a mix of relief and satisfaction coursing through me. "I didn't expect results so quickly."

Vlad's hand finds my knee, his touch warm and reassuring. "I told you I'd take this seriously, Sofia. Your goals are my goals now."

I swallow hard, surprised by the lump forming in my throat. "Thank you," I whisper, covering his hand with mine.

His eyes soften. "You don't have to thank me. We're in this together."

***

One slow afternoon, while Vlad is away at work, I decide to make a list of changes I’d like to make to the house.

As I'm searching for a pen in Vlad's office to jot down some ideas, I can't help but reflect on how much has changed. My fingers brush against a folder tucked away in the first drawer I open, and I look down without thinking.

My brows furrow as I see my name scrawled across the top. "What the…" I mutter, flipping it open. My eyes widen as I scan the contents, my heart dropping to my stomach.

There, laid out as I open the folder, are photos of me with some of the Crimson Crew, taken the night of our family party. The night when I snuck out.

The night before Vlad reached out to my brothers, asking for my hand in marriage.

Suddenly, I feel a cold, clammy sensation envelop me. My breathing hitches, my hands trembling as I try to processwhat I'm seeing. Vlad knew about my plans before our marriage arrangement was even on the table.

What does this mean? Did he marry me to stop me from pursuing my goals with the Crimson Crew? To control and manipulate me?

To ensure he intervenes and stops me from pulling down the Crimson Crew? To mess up my plans.

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