Page 38 of Brutal Vows

From the corner of my eye, I glimpse Ava grinning widely, her eyes shimmering with unspoken understanding. She may be the leader of one of the most formidable branches of the Bratva in the States, but something tells me there was a time when she had to learn to be just as invisible as me. I have spent my whole life learning how to make myself smaller, stealthily slipping through the tiny cracks left open when no one was watching. Under the oppressive roof of my father’s domain, I learned early on that survival meant becoming three things:

Meek.

Quiet.

Obedient.

Those were the three relentless lessons he hammered into me over the years in his bleak quest to mold me into the perfect daughter and, someday, the perfect wife for whoever had the biggest purse. Lucky for me, his teachings never stained my soul.

Dante’s mouth turns up at the corners, a slight tugbetraying his reluctant concession, and he nods ever so slightly, momentarily easing the tension that hangs in the air like a shroud.

“What else do you know?” Matthias’s unwavering gaze bores into me throughout our entire conversation, each scrutinizing look making it hard not to squirm in discomfort. Nervousness knits my throat tight.

“I want to make a deal first.” My heart hammers wildly in my chest while I struggle to meet the eyes of the brutish man sitting before me, an imposing figure who could crush me before I even manage a blink. Maybe if I negotiate with him directly, away from Vitali’s looming shadow, I might escape this predicament without another chain binding me here. “If I give you the information I know, I want something in return.”

Before I can continue, Vitali’s smooth, menacing voice slices into the space between us. “And what is that,piccola cerva?” His tone oozes charm, yet hides a threatening undercurrent that sends shivers down my spine.

“Not—” I begin, but Matthias is already leaning back in his chair, one leg casually draped over the other. He smiles, and fuck, it makes him look even more like a predator than he already does. In that moment, the dynamics shift. If I hadn’t felt like a hunted animal before, I sure as hell do now.

“You deal with me, Gia,” Vitali interjects, his words unspooling with a softness that belies the fierce storm beneath. His calm is deceptive, a simmering threat poised to burst. “You are mine. No one else gets to decide your fate. There are no deals—no outside assistance. If you want to bargain, it will be with me alone.”

I roll my shoulders back, sitting up straighter in my chair, defiantly lifting my chin even as my eyessearch the face of the man who both saved me and condemned me. The same man who holds the key to my undoing, and who demands the kind of obedience I once promised myself I would never surrender.

“I want to see my brother.”

Twenty

The scentof blood and rusted metal hits me as Vitali swings open the warehouse doors. The sound echoes into the cavernous void, a chilling lullaby of dread that echoes through my veins with each pounding heartbeat. Dim bulbs hang overhead, casting more shadows than light in this bleak realm of torture.

Am I ready for this? To face the brother who once pulled me from the brink, yet possibly betrayed me? The moment I insisted on seeing my brother, Vitali wasted no time. Within minutes, his sleek black sedan was idling at the curb, ready to whisk us away. He is eager to learn what I know, and the urgency is palpable.

As we sped through the dimly lit city streets, the air inside the car was thick with unspoken tension. Vitali’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the road, while I stared out the window, lost in a whirlwind of anxiety.

The neon lights flashing by only added to my unease. I appreciated his promptness, yet dread curled in my stomachabout what lay ahead. As we approached the imposing, shadowy building that seemed to swallow us whole, doubt gnawed at me.

Now, with each step I take deeper into the lion’s den, a sense of regret is beginning to creep over my resolve. There, in the belly of the darkness, typing up like a marionette from my darkest nightmares, is my brother. Blood oozes from his swollen face into a quickly spreading pool, tainting the concrete far too bright a shade of crimson against the gray underbelly. My breath hitches in my throat as I stifle back a choke of dread boiling up from my stomach.

Vitali’s grip on my arm is possessive—an unwavering reminder that he’s the puppet master in this sordid play. He’s tall, towering over me in his glossy obsidian suit. His hazel eyes never waver from my face as he studies my reaction.

“Is this what wanted you to see?” he murmurs, voice barely reaching over the deafening beat of terror drumming in my ears.

Before I can yank my arm from his grasp, Vitali releases his grip on me, striding towards the corner where a ragged chair awaits him. His steps are confident and measured—one-two, one-two—it’s all a fucking dance for him.

Clamping onto whatever semblance of courage resides within me, I rush forward toward my brother. His chocolate eyes, mirroring mine, meet my gaze with a flicker of sorrow.

“Let him down.” It is meant to be an order, but it comes out a plea.

Vitali lifts his shoulders in a casual shrug, his lips pressed together in a contemplative line, as though weighing his options. After a moment, he shakes his head decisively.

“I don’t think I will,mio piccola cerva,” he says, hisvoice smooth and unwavering. Elio’s growl rumbles through the air, a low, menacing sound that cuts through the silence at Vitali’s use of my nickname, his swollen eyes narrowing with barely restrained anger.

“She isn’t your anything,stronzo,” Elio spits. Vitali laughs, the cold sound ringing through the cavernous space.

“Oh, but she is,” he mocks my brother. “Isn’t that right, Gia?”

“Stop,” I hiss at him through clenched teeth.

Vitali sneers at me from his chair. “What? Don’t want to tell him the happy news,il mio fidanzato?”

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