Page 39 of Stolen By The Bratva King

I grind my teeth. That fucking kid. The one who set this whole thing spiraling out of control.

“I’ll have him taken care of,” I say.

“In the literal sense, or...”

“Shut the fuck up, Franco. I will deal with it, and what you don’t know won’t keep you up at night.”

My father’s voice sounds in my mind, cold and mocking.

A real man doesn’t let anyone take what’s his, Dante. You’re not a real man until you’ve proven yourself.

I clench my fists, the memories bubbling up despite every effort I’ve made to bury them. My Papa’s sneer, his gaze full of disdain, like I was a disappointment from the day I was born.

He was right about one thing—respect has to be earned. And I’ve spent my life earning it, clawing out of his shadow. I will not let some bratva fuck take it all away.

Leon made me look like a fool. And for what? Thegirl?

Oh,please.

Ungrateful little bitch. I gave her everything. I put her on my arm, cleaned up her mess of a life, and molded her into a woman worthy of a man like me. Or I was working on it, at least.

And this is how she repays me?

Emery was always weak and easily swayed. Leon probably sees her the same way I do: a pawn. A route to Alec Bright’s fortune, that’s all.

He can’t possibly want her for real. Why would he? A man like him could have any woman he wanted.

No, he’s using her, just like I was.

It’s unfair. After everything I’ve done—everything I’ve survived—Leon Vasiliev, of all people, waltzed in and took everything I’d worked for.

Fate islaughingat me.

Let him believe he’s won. Let him think I’m just her pathetic ex-fiancé.

Leon may not have realized who I am today, but by the time I’m through, my name will be seared in pain through every fiber of his being.

25

Emery

Leon has left the room, but I still feel him—his touch, his mouth, the way he seemed to worship me like I was the most precious thing he’d ever held in his hands.

My body hums with the aftershocks, each little wave of sensation a reminder of how easily I surrendered.

It’s not right. Am I so damaged, so starved for affection, that I’ll take it from the first man who offers? Even when he brings home a parade of red flags large enough to be seen from space?

I was so friendless and alone. Then, I met a man who treated me like a human being, enough for me to hand over my innocence like a stick of gum. What’s wrong with me?

The euphoria is fading, leaving cold, heavy shame in its place. I pull the sheets tighter around me, insulating myself against the chill.

It isn’t only about the physical side. If it were, Dante would’ve been the one to take my virginity. He wanted it, and I could’ve given it to him.

Closed my eyes, done some theatrical moaning, and let it happen.

But Dante never looked at me the way Leon does.

Leon looks at me like I’m something delicate, something worth cherishing. It’s in his voice, too. It softens when he speaks to me, as though he’s afraid I’ll shatter if he’s too harsh. Even my father never talked to me so gently.

---