Page 37 of Used Bratva Bride

The silence that follows is thick. Even Vince, still trembling in pain, stares at me in stunned disbelief.

Ivan’s jaw clenches, but I don’t turn to him. I keep my focus on the rat in front of me.

“Deliver my message,” I say smoothly. “Tell James Spade that his princess will be mine.”

The man hesitates, still caught between agony and confusion.

I nod to my men. “Get him out of here.”

The guards haul him up, half dragging him toward the door. His blood leaves a faint trail along the floor.

I watch as they go, my mind already turning, already calculating.

James Spade will have no choice but to react. Whether he’s willing to fight for her or whether he’s simply trying to save face, it doesn’t matter.

This will force his hand.

The door swings shut behind the guards. Only Ivan and I remain.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just stands there, arms crossed, eyes sharp and assessing.

I already know what’s coming.

Finally, he exhales. “You intend to marry her?”

I smile, dragging a chair forward and sitting down, stretching my legs out lazily.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

He scoffs. “I just don’t see the advantage here.”

I don’t answer immediately, just let my fingers tap idly against the armrest.

Ivan shakes his head. “What’s the real play here?”

I glance at him, amusement flickering in my gaze.

“Marriage is power,” I say simply. “Nothing makes a man angrier than losing something that belongs to him.”

Ivan exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “She’s not going to take this well.”

I sneer. “She doesn’t have to.”

He studies me for a long moment. “This is dangerous.”

Everything in this world is dangerous. I shrug. “We’ll see how far James Spade is willing to go for his daughter.”

Ivan doesn’t argue further, but his silence speaks volumes. He doesn’t agree with me but remains silent as he mulls it over, just staring, his jaw tight, his expression blank. Then he exhales sharply.

“I still don’t get it,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Marrying her?”

I sigh. “I don’t expect you to get it, Ivan.”

His eyes narrow slightly, frustration simmering beneath his usually controlled exterior. “You just cut a man’s finger off to send a message. Now you’re talking about wedding bells?”

I chuckle darkly, dragging my hand across my jaw. “Julie Spade isn’t the endgame. She’s the bait.”

Ivan folds his arms. “Bait for what?”

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