Page 48 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

My chest constricts, anger boiling in my veins like molten iron.

How could he do this to me? I felt like we were finally getting to know each other, opening up and sharing our deepest selves. And now, I realize he's been keeping things from me all along—things that not only betray my trust but also threaten the security of my family.

A bitter, twisted flame ignites in the pit of my stomach as I realize that I onlythoughtI knew him. He’s been running on a different agenda altogether.

I slam the folder shut, hurling it back into the drawer with vicious force, the betrayal seeping deep into my soul.

Chapter 17 - Vladimir

The gleam of diamonds catches my eye as I glance up from the scattered papers on my desk. Beyond my office, rows of display cases stretch across the floor—a pristine showcase of our legitimate business. But that’s only part of the story. The real lifeblood of our operation flows beneath the surface, hidden in plain sight.

Here’s how it works: we source the diamonds directly from our mines, controlling the entire supply chain. A portion of these stones is priced and sold legitimately—cash transactions that never leave a trace. Because we own the mines, no one questions the occasional "missing" stones, and those pieces find their way to the black market. Clean cash, no questions asked.

But the true brilliance lies in the other side of the scheme. For our more "sophisticated" dealings, we sell diamonds at wildly inflated prices to select partners—those who owe us for services rendered outside the law. These inflated invoices provide a perfect cover. The money paid, though disguised as legitimate business revenue, is essentially payment for illicit deals. It lands in our accounts as clean as a polished gem, untraceable to its darker origins.

That’s the magic of a diamond. Its worth is defined not by its brilliance but by the value we choose to assign it. And in this game, value is everything.

I lean back in my leather chair, allowing myself a rare moment of satisfaction. Everything is falling into place—the chain of our brand-new jewelry stores, our more illicit ventures, and, most importantly, my relationship with Sofia.

A smirk tugs at my lips as I think of her. My beautiful, ice-cold wife, who's slowly starting to thaw. The past week hasbeen… surprisingly pleasant. No arguments, no cold shoulders. Just a tremendous warming between us that makes something unfamiliar stir in my chest.

The sharp staccato of heels on marble snaps me from my reverie. I look up, tensing instinctively at the abrupt intrusion. But it's Sofia who bursts through my office door, her green eyes flashing with an anger I haven't seen in weeks.

"Sofia?" I say, rising to my feet. "What's wrong?"

She doesn't answer immediately, her gaze sweeping over me with arctic disdain. I drink in the sight of her—pin-straight blonde hair falling past her shoulders, the elegant cut of her dress hugging her slim frame. Even furious, she's breathtaking.

"Don't 'Sofia' me," she finally snaps, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Vladimir."

Oh, so she’s back to using my full name. Now Iknowshe’s pissed.

I frown, genuinely confused. "I'm not playing anything. What's going on?"

She laughs a sharp, humorless sound that sets my teeth on edge. "Oh, that's rich. As if you don't know exactly what you've done."

I move around my desk, approaching her cautiously. The urge to reach out and touch her wars with my instinct for self-preservation. An angry Sofia is a dangerous Sofia.

"Whatever it is," I say carefully, "I'm sure we can talk it out. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think she might actually strike me. Instead, she takes a deep breath, her fingers clenching at her sides. "You really want to play this game?Fine. Let's talk about how you've been interfering with my plans behind my back."

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, utterly confused.

"My plans with the Crimson Crew," Sofia hisses, her green eyes flashing with betrayal. "The ones you swore you'd support when I said I want to infiltrate it. How mad you were at first! How shocked you were! Not once did you tell me you knew I was involved with them. I saw the photos, Vlad, of me in their midst before we got married. Ring any bells?"

My stomach drops. Shit. I'd hoped to have more time before this conversation, to explain how it all went down. I never knew who they were back then.

"Sofia, I can explain—" I start, but she cuts me off with a razor-sharp laugh.

"Oh, I'm sure you can. You always have an explanation, don't you? A reason why you know better than everyone else?" Her words drip with venom, each one finding its mark.

I take a step toward her, frustration and admiration warring within me. Even furious, she's magnificent—a force of nature barely contained in human form.

"If you'd just listen for a moment—"

"Listen?" she interrupts, her voice rising. "Like you listened when I told you how important this was to me? When I asked you to trust me for once? What a fool I was, when now I know you were trying to jeopardize my plans all along. That’s why you married me, didn’t you?"

I clench my jaw, struggling to keep my own temper in check at the unfair accusation. "That’s not what happened, and you know it. That night—"

---