Page 19 of Used Bratva Bride

Julie Spade. She doesn’t fit.

I expected a Spade to be ruthless, sharp-edged, as cold as the father who built their empire. But Julie? She’s something else entirely. Innocent. Naïve. Foolish enough to think she could escape me.

I close my eyes briefly, exhaling through my nose. The image of her trembling by the window lingers—her back pressed against the glass, wide, terrified eyes locked on mine as she realized she’d been caught.

She had hope for a moment. I took it away.

A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips.

Foolish as she is, I have to admit there’s something about her that intrigues me. She’s soft, all wide-eyed defiance and misplaced bravery. Even when she was in pain, barely holding herself together, she still had the nerve to challenge me.

Her reaction to the documents in my office was telling. The moment she saw her family’s involvement in my uncle’s murder, she broke. Not in the way someone guilty would.

Not in the way someone prepared for that truth would. No, she was shocked, frightened, as if she truly had no idea what was happening, or why. Like she had been stabbed in the back for the first time.

I don’t know if she’s lying to herself or if she’s truly ignorant of the Spade family’s dealings. Either way, it doesn’t matter. She belongs to me now.

My phone vibrates on the desk, pulling me from my thoughts. The number flashing across the screen is unknown, but I don’t hesitate before answering.

I already have a feeling about who it is.

I lift the phone to my ear. “Sharov.”

There’s silence for a beat. Then, “You have something that belongs to us.”

Sophia Spade.

Her voice is sharp, smooth as glass and just as dangerous.

I lean forward slightly, grinning. “I have a lot of things that belong to people. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Don’t play games with me,” she snaps. “I know you took Julie. I also know you’re trying to use her as leverage.”

I chuckle, swirling the remaining whiskey in my glass. “What exactly do you think I want from this, hmm? A trade? A favor?” I pause, letting my voice dip lower. “Or maybe I just enjoy having her here.”

There’s a sharp inhale on the other end of the line. “You don’t scare me, Sharov.”

“That’s a shame,” I murmur. “Most people find me terrifying.”

“Cut the bullshit,” she spits. “I didn’t kill anyone, and Julie sure as hell has nothing to do with this. If you have a problem with my father, then deal with him. Leave her out of it.”

I let the silence drag, reveling in the way she’s trying so hard to control the situation.

“I… don’t?”

A pause. Then, her voice drops, deadly. “Then I’ll make you regret it.”

The amusement fades slightly from my expression, though my grin remains. “Big words for someone who couldn’t even keep their own sister safe,” I taunt.

“She’s not my responsibility,” she bites back.

I hum in interest. Not my responsibility. There it is again—that subtle distance she keeps from Julie, the way she separates herself.

I lean back in my chair, considering her. “Why so concerned, then?” I press.

Another beat of silence. Then she exhales sharply. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“Mm,” I hum, unconvinced. “Yet here you are, calling me in the middle of the night, demanding her return. Forgive me if I don’t believe this is just about family loyalty.”

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