Page 74 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

I watch, impressed, as they methodically sweep the room. Denis pockets Alexei's phone to hack it and manage any other threats.

"Efficient, aren't they?" I muse, trying to keep my voice steady. "I suppose this isn't their first rodeo."

Vlad's eyes never leave me as he replies, "We take care of our own."

His words send an unexpected warmth through my chest. I've always prided myself on my independence, but right now, being part of "our own" doesn't sound so bad.

Vlad steps closer, his eyes scanning me for injuries. "Are you sure you're alright?" His hand reaches out, hesitating before gently touching my arm. The contact sends a jolt through me.

I swallow hard, but seeing him worriedworriesme. I try to ease the distress we’re both feeling. "I'm fine, really. Just a bruised ego and a newfound distaste for rope burn."

His eyes darken at my words. "I shouldn't have let you out of my sight," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

I raise an eyebrow, summoning what's left of my sass. "Let me? I wasn't aware I needed your permission, Vlad."

He chuckles softly, the sound warming me from the inside out. "You're right. No one tells Sofia Zolotov what to do."

My heart races as I realize he calledSofia Zolotov, not Orlov. I watch his face, smiling as I understand he didn’t even register the difference.

His thumb traces small circles on my arm, soothing and electrifying at the same time. "But I promise you, I won't let anything like this happen again."

I want to bristle at his protectiveness, to remind him that I can take care of myself. But the genuine concern in his eyes, the gentle strength of his touch… it makes me want to believe him.

"I'll hold you to that," I whisper, allowing him to lead me to the car while the rest of the guys handle things here.

***

The drive home is a blur of city lights. Vlad’s arm stays firmly around my shoulders, a warm shield against the night's chill and my own lingering fears. I find myself nestling closer, finding peace I never thought I could.

"You know," I murmur, breaking the comfortable silence, "I never thought I’d understand why you always checking in on me from the moment we got married, but I'm actually grateful for your overbearing tendencies right now."

Vlad's chest rumbles with a low chuckle. "Careful, Crimson. I might get used to your gratitude."

I roll my eyes but can't help giving a small smile. "Don't push your luck!”

As we pull up to the house, Vlad's grip on me tightens slightly. "Home sweet home," he says softly, his eyes searching mine. "Ready?"

I nod, steeling myself. "As I'll ever be."

Inside, Vlad guides me straight to the bedroom, his hand a constant presence on the small of my back. The familiar surroundings should be comforting, but I can't shake the lingering unease.

"You need rest," Vlad says, his voice gentle but firm. He pulls back the covers and helps me into bed, his movements surprisingly tender.

As he tucks the blankets around me, I catch a glimpse of raw vulnerability in his eyes. It's so unexpected, so unlike the stoic Bratva leader I've come to know, that it takes my breath away.

"Vlad," I whisper, reaching out to touch his face. "I'm okay. Really."

He leans into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. "I know," he says, his voice rough. "But seeing you in danger… I've never been so terrified in my life, Sofia."

The admission hangs heavy between us, charged with unspoken emotions. I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I… I didn't think you cared that much."

Vlad's eyes snap open, intense and burning. "Of course I care," he says fiercely. "More than I should. More than I ever thought possible."

My heart races, a mix of fear and something dangerously close to hope. "Vlad, I—”

“Sofia, please,” he cuts me off. For a second, he closes his eyes, his face crunched in anguish. That look on his face tears at my heart, and I instinctively reach out, caressing his cheek.

“What is it, Vlad?” I ask, praying to take away his pain.

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