Page 9 of The Bratva's Prisoner Bride

With the guards not moving a muscle to get me out of that mess, it made me wonder what kind of sick things they were used to seeing. They didn’t even flinch.

“Unfortunately, they don’t follow your orders,” Ivan muttered to me, adjusting me over his shoulder before continuing through the lit-up front foyer. The jostling movement forced more air from my lungs, and I pulled in the deepest breath I could. “They work for me, and you’ll find my staff are quite loyal. Scream all you’d like…they don’t care.”

I had the feeling there was no point in doubting his words. They were on his payroll, after all, and if they ever decided to help me, some sort of punishment was a given.

Even if he couldn’t see it, my frown deepened, along with the helplessness that settled in my gut.

No comeback or argument came to me then, and I couldn’t find it in me to fight as much while the blood rushed to my head.

I watched with blurry vision while the sleek steps moved beneath us, feeling like I could hurl at any moment. He carried me up, not uttering a single complaint about having to move me, or about how heavy I was. He didn’t seem affected at all.

A part of me wished he would at least struggle and begin to question if I was even worth the trouble. I wanted him to regret even wasting his time, both for my own satisfaction and with the hope that he might decide to let me go after all.

But, something told me that anyone who became useless in their path would be effectively removed from it, and I didn’t like the connotations accompanying that hypothesis.

Flitting between feeling hopeless and furious about how everything was unfolding, I couldn’t do anything about either while he carried me down a hallway before reaching a door and pushing it open. After a few more steps, he adjusted his hold on me and let my body slide down the front of his until his hands were on my waist.

My breath hitched as he dropped me onto a bed, letting me feel the soft bedding beneath me for a moment. Then, I looked up at him, meeting his gaze to see just how scalding it was.

For half a breath, I had the mind to picture that scenario unraveling differently…of Ivan delivering me to his bed, but looking down at me with only desire in his eyes. The thought of him having his way with me instead of holding me captive and playing games seemed much more appealing.

But one glimpse at his smugness triggered me all over again.

Snapping back to reality, I glared up at him. “You’re not the only one here from a prominent family.”

While it was mostly true, a small voice in the back of my head immediately called me out, reminding me that my brother had nothing to do with me outside of using me for his ploys. I hated how that voice seemed to mimic Ivan’s.

Before he could even attempt to hold it in, a genuine laugh escaped Ivan while he loomed over me, inching close enough for me to feel his breath against my cheek while he spoke.

“That’s funny, really…” he murmured, eyes locking on mine while his hand slowly moved up my thigh.

Heat simmered beneath my skin with every agonizingly languid drag of his palm up my body, silently mapping the space there. My heart lurched, forced to look directly into his eyes. I wanted to pretend his touch didn’t affect me, but I knew better.

His opposite hand settled beneath the back of my knee to shift me closer to his domineering form while the other grazed past my hip. That amusement lingered in his grin, sparking a mirthful gleam in his eyes.

My breath quickened with every second that eye contact lingered, feeling more like a trapped rabbit than anything else. Goosebumps rippled across my skin, all the while his hand curved around my waist, dipping down to slide across my backside.

Silently cursing the faint shiver that ghosted through me, I swallowed hard and did everything in my power to remain composed.

But god, having him that close, feeling his hands on my body, was enough to make me both question his intentions and my resolve.

He was so close that my lips almost tingled with anticipation. A part of me wished he’d just get it over with.

Ivan’s hand slowly inched further down, shamelessly getting a feel of my curves while his triumphant expression lingered.

My breath caught as he moved closer until his lips were against the shell of my ear. His voice made every nerve ending of mine stand on end.

“…Your brother’s locked up now, and there’s nothing he can do to help you,” Ivan whispered, allowing me to hear the smugness in his silky tone. “If he ever would…”

The daze he had me in clouded my mind and made me take an extra moment to process what he was saying. Once it settled in, my brows furrowed, but his fingers slipped into my back pocket and forced my heart into my throat.

Ivan chuckled, reaching for something before carefully pulling up.

Feeling like I was enduring the harshest form of whiplash, I registered the sensation of my phone sliding against me, and after a moment, it left my pocket entirely.

Heat scattered through my cheeks once Ivan let go of me and pulled back, holding my cell phone in his grasp. He held it up, gave it a slight shake as if to mock me, and then slipped it into his pocket. That damn grin never left his face.

“That’s better…”

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