Page 41 of Stolen By The Bratva King

“We’re married now, honey.” Leon holds up his hand, showing me the band on his finger. “You don’t get to play the victim, especially not after what we just did.”

I suppress a groan of resignation. For some reason, I find his boundary-trashing entitlement desperately romantic.

Presumably, it’s a deep-seated psychological flaw. If this were a horror movie, I’d be dead before the goddamn title card.

I remember the first time I saw Leon, bloodstained and cagey, cradling a child as tenderly as he might hold his own.

“Speaking of victims, what happened to the boy you brought to the hospital?” I ask.

Leon exhales slowly, his brow furrowing. “He got caught up in something. A few guys were trying to...steal my boat, and he ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I frown, trying to piece together his vague explanation. “Really? What kind of operation are you running?”

“Import/export and commercial real estate,” he replies smoothly, sliding his eyes away from mine. “I have a portfolio of foreign investors—intensely private clients who prefer to keep their business discreet.”

“Are you a millionaire?”

“Billionaire several times over if all my assets were valued at their current market rate.”

“I think it’s fundamentally immoral to be a billionaire,” I say. “My dad isn’t as rich as you.”

Leon laughs aloud. “I think that’s a perfectly reasonable stance to take, and if that’s how you feel, it’s probably best not to pry.”

It’s not a complete explanation, but I can’t tell if he’s lying or withholding the whole truth. Either way, I decide not to press; I’m not sure I want to know.

“That reminds me,” I say. “What was the deal you cut with my father, exactly? Because the wedding crashing thing was kinda dramatic.”

“Simple.” Leon crosses his hands behind his head. “I was already committed to ruining Dante, but your dad had a chance to save himself. All he had to do was let me steal you from under your fiancé’s nose in front of all the people he wanted to impress, and I’d ensure his precious fortune was safe.”

Tears prick my eyes. “Oh, great. And my safety meant nothing?”

Leon is about to respond when his cell phone vibrates. He picks it up, swipes at the screen, and hangs up.

“Viktor,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “It’s the fifth time he’s called. I gotta go handle some business.”

I set my coffee down. “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone? Just stay here?”

“Yes.” He strides past me into the bedroom, talking as he goes. “That’s precisely what you’re gonna do. I’m still dealing with the fallout from the incident the other night, and you’re better off out of it.”

I follow to find him buttoning a maroon shirt, having swapped his sweatpants for a fine wool mix suit. I throw my hands in the air, trying to get his attention, but he doesn’t look my way.

“This isn’t fair, Leon. You’re using me.”

His head snaps up, and something flickers in his eyes.

“Emery—”

“No.” The bizarreness of what’s happening rolls over me like a tsunami, and my voice cracks. “I didn’t ask for any of this. All I wanted was a quiet life—to help people, to have peace. Not to swap one cruel man for another.”

Leon closes the distance between us in two strides, cupping my face in his hands. His thumbs wipe away the tears that spill down my cheeks, and his expression softens in a way that makes my heart ache.

“Give me a month,” he says quietly. “Stay with me for a month. I’ll let you go if you still feel the same after that. No contest, no strings attached, and I’ll give you a billion dollars of your very own to sweeten the deal.”

He smiles, his tone teasing. “If you want the money, that is. Ethically, it’s shaky ground, but it could be worse, don’t you think?”

I search his face, looking for the catch. Obviously, the downside is supposed to be having to live with him and be his wife, but that may not be quite the sacrifice it could be.

“Fine,” I say, my voice trembling. “But you have to leave my dad alone, too. And give the money to the hospital instead; they have ambitions to expand and refurbish the children’s ward, but it’ll cost a fortune.”

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