Page 13 of Used Bratva Bride

I release her throat and step back, watching as she lets out a shaky exhale. She lifts a hand to where my fingers had been, rubbing at the skin, but I know better than to think she’s relaxing. She’s waiting—calculating her next move.

“You’re here,” I say, folding my arms, “because your beloved father and sister played a very important role in having my uncle killed.”

Confusion flickers across her face, mixing with something else. A beat passes before she shakes her head. “What?”

“Valeri Sharov,” I continue, as if she hadn’t spoken. “A man who built his empire with his own two hands. A man who was loyal to the Bratva until the day he was put in the ground. A man your sister helped eliminate.”

She blinks rapidly, shaking her head again. “No… no, that’s not possible. My family—”

“Your family,” I cut in, “is full of liars. Now, you’re either one of them, or you’re too naive to see the truth.”

Her jaw clenches. “I am telling the truth,” she snaps, her voice sharper now. “My family wouldn’t—”

I step forward, grabbing the file Ivan had left on the desk and flipping it open. I don’t give her time to argue before I toss the documents onto the bed beside her. Photographs, bank transactions, and written testimonies scatter across the sheets, the damning proof staring back at her in black and white.

“Look,” I say coldly. “Tell me again that your family wasn’t involved.”

She does.

“This isn’t possible,” she whispers, her hands trembling as she picks up one of the papers.

“It’s fact,” Ivan interjects, arms crossed. “You’re either a fool, or you’re playing a very stupid game pretending otherwise.”

Her nostrils flare. “I’m not lying.”

“You’re just like them,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Desperate to pretend you don’t know how deep in the dirt they are. Or maybe you do know, but you’ve convinced yourself it doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t know!” she snaps, frustration breaking through the thin veil of composure she’s been clinging to. “I don’t know anything about this! I wasn’t involved in my father’s business—I never was!”

“That,” I say slowly, “is something I intend to change.”

Her breath catches, her expression shifting from anger to something warier, something uncertain.

“You’re going to be useful to me, Julie,” I say, watching the way her face tightens at my use of her name. “One way or another.”

She opens her mouth, ready to argue, but I turn away before she can speak.

“Ivan,” I say, my voice calm as I motion him toward the door.

He follows without hesitation, leaving Julie alone in the bed, breathing hard, fury and fear warring in her eyes.

The door clicks shut behind me, sealing her inside, but I can still feel the tension from our conversation lingering in the air. Julie Spade is desperate, confused—but most importantly, angry. Not just at me. Not just at this situation. At her father. That makes her more valuable than she even realizes.

Ivan walks beside me as we move down the hall, his sharp gaze flicking toward me, waiting. He’s been silent, but I know him too well to think he doesn’t have something to say.

I don’t make him wait long. “She should be watched at all times,” I tell him. “No exceptions.”

He nods once, falling into step with me easily. “I’ll have a man outside her door at all hours,” he says. “Rotating shifts—no weak links. We should install cameras in her room. Hidden, obviously. If she’s got any plans to get clever, I want to know about it before she even tries.”

“Do it,” I say, pleased with his efficiency. “I want eyes on her from the moment she wakes up to the moment she falls asleep. Even then, I want someone listening.”

He exhales, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “You think she’s going to try something?”

I don’t answer immediately.

Julie isn’t like her sister. That much is obvious. Sophia Spade is calculating, ruthless in a way that only someone raised to wield power can be. Julie, though—she’s untouched by that world. Kept in the dark, hidden away like some shameful secret.

Or so she claims.

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