Page 9 of The Bratva King's Auctioned Bride

“They don’t care at all,” she said, moving to pull my hands away from beating down the door. “Even if you kill me, you still have to put on an outfit. It’s better if you just do what you’re supposed to.”

The girl’s hopelessness drained the fight out of me, and my brothers’ words came back. It was better if I didn’t wear myself out and stayed watchful for a chance to escape.

“What is this for?” I asked, pointing to the rack of cheap lingerie.

My wardrobe assistant, or whatever she was supposed to be, sat down and looked at her lap, fiddling with her gnawed fingernails. “It’s an auction,” she whispered. “You’re the only item up for bid.”

Oh hell. Was this just a crime of opportunity? It made it no less disgusting, but I relaxed a bit, rushing to the door and calling through it. “I want to speak to the old man. It’s very important. He’ll want to talk to me, believe me.” I turned to the girl and asked her if she’d translate.

“He understands,” she said. “It won’t make a difference.”

“Oh, it will.”

I kept shouting for the old man, and a few minutes later, he flung open the door, rheumy eyes bulging with annoyance.

“What do you want? And why hasn't she changed yet?” He directed the last to the girl, swiftly moving to slap her.

I got in between them and squared up to him, only a few inches taller than me. “You’ve made a very grave mistake,” I informed him. “You don’t know who I am.” I went on to tell him and made sure he understood that my brothers would pay him far more than he could ever make at some perverted auction. “You picked the wrong girl off the street,” I said when I was done.

He only stared at me with a strange smile on his face, and I realized with cold clarity that he knew exactly who I was all along.

But who was he? Why was I his target, and why did he want me to suffer? Because this seemed personal now, nothing to do with money.

He laughed, breaking the tense silence that fell over the dreary changing room. “I can’t wait until all your protective brothers’ heads explode when they learn what happened to their precious sister.”

His laughter rang out after he locked me back in the room, and the girl tugged me over to the clothing rack. “If you’re not ready by the time the music starts, they really will rip your clothes off. They might even do it on stage.”

I ignored her pleas, pacing anxiously and looking for anything I could use as a weapon. Short of a gun, I stood no chance against the guards, even if I did manage to knock out the old guy. Thumping bass music wafted back to us, and the girl began to whimper. I looked at her to see that she was pitying me, fearing for what I was about to face.

I jumped up, grabbing the first thing I could reach off the rack. It was a sheer white babydoll-style top that barely hit the top of my thighs when I jerked off my sleek business clothes and pulled it over my head. The girl handed me the matching panties, barely a few strings, with silent tears streaming down her face.

What kind of miserable life did she lead? And what really lay ahead for me if she was crying on my behalf?

I tugged them on, hating everything and vowing to burn this place to the ground at the first possible chance. The door flew open again, and I flew at it, ready to scratch the old man’s eyes out and run like hell. But it was a giant, soulless guard who barely glanced at me as he gripped my arm and dragged me out of the room and down the hall. He didn’t flinch at my string ofthreats or the promises that he’d be one of the people who paid for his part in this.

I stumbled as he hauled me up several steps to a small area behind a dark red velvet curtain. The music was louder here, almost deafening me, while the beats rose up through the soles of my bare feet. The guard shoved me through the curtain, and a cheer rose above the blaring music. Strobe lights blinded me, flashing on a sea of faces a few feet below me, multitudes of hands reaching up to grab at me. I staggered back before they could wrap around my ankles and pull me into the fevered throng.

Even over the roars and the music, I could hear my own heartbeat, threatening to break through my ribs as I struggled to keep my legs from collapsing. One man made his way forward, muscling through the crowd to stand at the very edge of the stage, tall enough that I could see his face clearly illuminated by the roaming lights.

And that’s when I got it. Everything became crystal clear, and I had never felt such fear before. Staring up at me with a look of pure rage on his face was none other than my family’s worst enemy. The man who despised us so much he’d let his empire burn, who had managed to elude our grasp and almost brought us to our knees.

My knees were dangerously close to giving out as his coal-dark eyes locked with mine. Hatred kept me standing, and I stared defiantly at the man who would sell me to the highest bidder.

Arkadi Mikhailov stared right back as the men around him began to shout their bids.

Chapter 7 - Arkadi

What in the fuck? I only landed in Milan a short time ago, the arms deal going off without a hitch. I thought I could grab a quick meal before meeting up with my uncle to get a report on Mila’s whereabouts, but instead, Eldar called me to a bar on the outskirts of the city. I had no idea what awaited me.

Certainly not this.

The place was small, but packed. Bright lights swirled, and music blared over the sounds of shouting men. And then I saw what they were all so excited about. Pushing my way through the throng, I had to throw a few elbows to make it to the front.

My eyes roamed Mila’s curves. Almost every beautiful inch of her was on display, and all the fantasies I’d been trying to shove to the side over the last few days rushed to the surface. Her lush lower lip trembled as she backed away from the men’s reaching hands. Both fear and anger flashed in her eyes as she scanned the crowd, finally settling on me. Fear won.

The terror written all over her face should have satisfied me far more than the sight of her body, but it only enraged me. Breaking free from her gaze, I shoved back through the crowd of men who were shouting and waiting for their chance to … what? Nothing good. I found Eldar and tore him off his barstool, gripping his collar until his eyes bulged and letting his feet dangle off the floor.

“What in the hell is going on?” I demanded. We weren’t even supposed to have Mila in custody yet. This wasn’t part of the plan because there wasn’t a plan. Certainly not this.

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