Page 33 of Ruthless Mafia Boss 3: Vino and Claire

“Do it,” he growled. “I don’t want to hurt you, Claire, but I will if I have to.”

Memories of him choking me during sex flashed through my mind. Would he do it again?

I snorted the line, the drug hitting me like a freight train, leaving me hyper-aware, my eyes bulging with intensity.

Ivan took his own hit, then slid the mirror toward the woman who eagerly followed suit.

“We’re going to party with Masha,” he announced with a smirk.

“She’s a gift from my cousin in Russia.”

He yanked me to my feet, encircling my waist with an iron grip. “When we move to Russia, we can have her over for playtime or another woman,” he suggested, his words laced with dark promise.

I stiffened. “Ivan, I told you I’m not moving to Russia.”

He sighed, like I was being difficult. “I have to marry Polina Abelev,” he said, voice laced with irritation. “Our fathers made a deal to unite the Bratva families when I become the boss. I’ll split my time between two houses.” His lips trailed down my shoulder. “One with my wife… and one with my mistress.”

My stomach twisted.

How the hell had I gone from being his girlfriend to his mistress?

“You can’t make me move to Russia,” I snapped, my voice shaking.

Ivan’s expression grew sinister, but before he could respond, Masha let out a giggle as she twirled around the room, her long, dark hair whipping across her face. “He can. He just told you he’s in the Russian mafia. He can make you do whatever he wants.”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch.” My words were sharp, but the cocaine had me too messed up to feel the full weight of the situation.

Ivan grabbed my wrist and dragged me back to the mirror. “Do another line.”

“No,” I shouted, my defiance cutting through the fog in my brain.

His hand disappeared into a drawer, and when it emerged, he was holding a Glock. My breath hitched.

Ivan pressed the cold barrel against my temple. “Snort the fucking line,” he roared.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst. I wasn’t ready to die. Trembling, I did as I was told. The second hit sent me spiraling. My body felt weightless, my thoughts sluggish. I could barely keep my eyes open as I stumbled toward the door, desperate to escape.

Without warning, Ivan swept me off my feet, carrying me like a broken puppet into the bedroom.

He set me on the bed and stripped me bare. I was too dazed to fight back, too numb to react as I watched Masha yank off his towel, sink to her knees, and suck his dick. My stomach twisted as he fisted her hair, dragging her up before bending her over the side of the bed. He fucked her hard and raw. No fucking barrier between them.

I retreated to the corner of the room. Because this couldn’t be my life. How did I not see that my boyfriend was a fucking monster?

I didn’t even feel when Ivan pulled me to my feet by my hair. “Time for you to ride me.”

“No. You just had sex with her without protection. I’m not fucking you.”

“You will,” he said before sinking his teeth into my shoulder, unleashing a searing pain.

“Ouch,” I yelled.

My eyes widened again.

“Where are the condoms? You have to have some here. Get a condom. And I will ride you.” My voice trembled.

What else could I say? No one was coming to my rescue. I’d fuck him and leave.

Ivan pulled me into his arms, pinning my trembling thighs against his chiseled torso as he plunged into me. Even in my drug-addled haze, every thrust triggered waves of nausea and revulsion. He emptied himself inside me, then callously dropped me onto the cold floor when his hunger was momentarily sated. Slipping away to chase his next high with Masha, Ivan left the room in a haze of depravity.

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