Page 18 of Forced Bratva Bride

He gave me his arm, and when I looked reluctant to take it, he leaned closer and whispered: “Unless you’d prefer the basement again?”

The air from his voice skimmed my ear, and I shivered at the contact. I didn’t entirely hate the proximity. My brain turned into a jumbled mess. One part chided me for liking how good it felt to have him whisper in my ear, while the other told me to do whatever was necessary to avoid the basement.

Without another word, I took his arm.

He led me back into the mansion, and my heart hammered against my ribs as we made our way through the hallway. Gio was a dangerous and powerful man. I gauged that from his treatment of me and the dozens of armed men in this oversized prison he liked to call home.

His brothers would be just as dangerous. I tried to calm my mind as it raced in petrified terror of these men I was about to meet. I imagined them as cunning, dangerous, and out for my brothers’ blood.

What if they convinced Gio to take it further in his interrogation? My knees nearly buckled in fear of that thought.

“Walk,” Gio said impatiently.

“I am walking,” I snapped back, though my legs felt a little like jelly.

One moment, I was running so close to freedom, and now, I was being marched into a roomful of his family members.

We paused outside the large double-sided doors for the living room. “You will behave in front of my brothers,” he looked down at me through furrowed brows as his hand reached to push open the door.

It wasn't a request. I nodded nervously.

The thought of meeting more men like him made my throat constrict.

I braced myself for whatever was to come as we entered the sprawling living room. Four men looked up at us. The family resemblance was unmistakable, and I had to force myself to remain standing instead of running out the door.

My gaze darted from one to the next, and I didn’t know what to do. Should I have smiled? Should I have averted my gaze?

I didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the group. My life kind of depended on it.

A tall, lanky man grinned in my direction. “Finally decided to join us,” he said to Gio, and then his gaze slid to me. I forced myself not to shrink back.

“What brought you here?” Gio asked.

“We were bored,” said another. He looked younger than Gio, and he shrugged playfully in my direction in a way of sayingwhat’s Gio going to do about it?Instinctively, I smiled at his playful motion.

“This is Larissa,” Gio said, nodding in my direction. “She’s my guest for a while.”

My head snapped toward him. JustLarissa?Not Larissa Ajello,sister of our enemies?Notthe prisoner I've taken?

The tall brother stepped forward, extending a hand. “Hello, Larissa. We hope the Lebedev treatment is to your liking.”

I hesitated before taking it, half-expecting some sort of trap. “Thank you,” I managed, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

I tried to rack my brain for if that last nameLebedevmeant something, but came up empty. I’d never heard of the Lebedevs.

“These are my brothers,” Gio made introductions around the room. “Federico, Dante, Luca, and Achille.”

Each nodded in acknowledgment. Federico, tall and lean with calculating eyes; Dante, whose smile didn't quite reach his gaze; Luca, younger with a restless energy about him; and Achille, who regarded me with open curiosity.

None of them looked at me with the cold contempt I'd expected. There was more than a little curiosity, yes, but not the straight-out aggression I'd braced for. In fact, they werefriendly.

My mind raced, piecing together the facts. Gio hadn't revealed my last name. He simply called me Larissa. Why? What game was he playing?

And then it clicked—he didn't want them to know he'd kidnapped me. For whatever reason, he was keeping my identity a secret, even from his own family.

Which meant I had leverage.

I forced my shoulders to relax, my lips to curve into something resembling a smile. If Gio wanted to pretend I was a guest, then I'd be the most inquisitive guest they'd ever encountered, understanding that I could use this opportunity to gain information.

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