Page 36 of The Bratva King's Auctioned Bride

It wasn’t my objective to scare her, but no matter what she’d seen growing up in the Bratva, no matter what horrors she could conjure up in her imagination, she could never comprehend what the likes of some of those men would do to her. I wasn’t sure whether merely cutting my uncle off for putting her in front of those sick bastards was enough.

We made it to the airport in record time, with only one guard in tow to keep a low profile. We all had our fake passports ready to go and made it through the first round of security without a hitch. After quickly perusing the options, the fastest way to Moscow was on a commercial flight due to take off in only an hour, with tickets still available. It wasn’t ideal, but I bought them, just wanting her to be in a place I had full control over.

Once we were in Moscow, I was fully prepared to weed out the people I suspected of being loyal to Eldar, starting with the ones who’d actively lied to me about him staying in Milan. I could only fully trust the men I’d grown up with, who had known my father, and who had followed me to LA to help me build my empire there.

At the gate, we had a little bit of time to spare, and Mila collapsed into one of the molded plastic seats. I sat beside her and motioned for my guard, Vilen, to sit on her other side. I made a survey of the area, but it was only harried tourists trying to get home, or business people with their noses to their phones. Some were already lined up, ready to board in a few minutes.

Feeling somewhat safe, I glanced at Mila, whose eyes were anxiously darting around like she’d never been in an airport before. Her face was still too pale, her lips drawn together in a tight line. I shouldn’t have upset her with the mad dash to get here, but damn it, there was a reason to be upset.

Mila was no longer my ticket back to LA, and I didn’t even feel the intense rage anymore when I thought about all I’d lost to her brothers. Not too much, anyway. I was still going to get back what was mine. There was no doubt about that. But I was going to find a way to do it and keep Mila by my side. That would be impossible if I lost her to some depraved asshole.

“Do you want some snacks or a coffee?” I asked, trying to make it seem like we were on our way to a fun vacation destination and not on the run.

Her eyes widened, and she jumped up. “Oh, okay. Sure. I’ll go. What do you want?”

I narrowed my eyes, but she wasn’t looking at me, only at what she perceived as a chance to slip into the crowds at the duty-free shop.

“Don’t be silly,” I said, taking her hand to tug her back into her seat. “Vilen will get it.”

My guard nodded, asking what she wanted. When she didn’t answer, I motioned for him to go anyway. “Get something salty and something sweet, and bottled water for the flight since God knows what they’ll give us on the plane.”

The only seats left available were in the back, not even in business class. We’d be surrounded by strangers, but so far, nobody looked like they’d dare try something stupid. Unlike Mila, who was still glancing toward the shop like she longed to make a break for it.

I leaned close, nudging some of her long hair behind her shoulder. “Don’t try to run,” I said quietly. “At least not until we’re somewhere safer.”

The slump of her shoulders told me that my hunch that she was planning a getaway was correct. It was like a knife to the gut. I kissed her gently on the cheek. “You shouldn’t run away from me at all,” I teased.

There was only stiffness and more silence in response. Finally, we were called to board, and I had to bully someone to be able to get the three of us in a row together, annoyinglycrammed together like sardines in a can. There was a reason I had my own jet.

“When was the last time you flew like this?” I asked Mila, well aware that at least two of her brothers had their own planes.

She only rolled her eyes and curled up against the window, ignoring me the entire flight by pretending to be asleep. There was no chance of that for me, keeping a wary eye on every little movement of the other passengers until the wheels touched down in my hometown.

The slight easing of the band around my chest was short-lived, though, because once we made it to the customs lines, I recognized some tenacious cops hanging out at border control. The local police force had been cracking down, arresting at least six of my guys since I arrived back in Moscow a little more than a month ago. They had started being so good at turning up in places where we’d made plans that I’d been trying to weed out a possible mole.

None of their charges ever stuck, but they were biding their time, champing at the bit to get the big prize, which would be me. Vilen noticed them at the same time, urging me to get out of the line.

So far, my trusted guard had been flying under their radar, so they shouldn’t recognize him. He’d be able to get through without a problem. Same with Mila, who was an unknown, only visiting once a year or so as an American tourist, and her new passport was flawless.

That left me trapped in the no man’s land of the customs line.

“There’s no way you can risk it,” Vilen said, echoing my own sentiments.

Getting caught up in their sting would be a mere formality. I’d only be in custody for a matter of hours before my lawyers got me out, but there was no way I was leaving Mila for even that long.

We backtracked to an out-of-the-way spot as I made some rushed phone calls, trying everyone I knew who had ties to the airport. A man who worked in baggage claim was on duty and had helped us facilitate certain deliveries before. Once I outlined my problem, he assured me he could sneak me through on his end.

“I’ll have you reunited with your people on the other side in no time,” he promised. “Probably before they’re even through the line.”

I agreed to the plan and ended the call, turning to Mila. “Looks like you’ll go through with Vilen, and I’ll be going through in a crate.”

It wasn’t ideal, and in fact, the cops were really pissing me off, but the slight smile on her face at the notion of me being stuffed into a box almost made it worth it. Hell, she could outright laugh at me, and that would be fine. I pulled her close, waiting for her to melt against me as my hands slid down her back.

“Be good,” I whispered close to her ear. Looking over her shoulder, I gave the guard a hard look. “Be careful,” I told him.

I watched until they were swallowed up in the crowd, then turned to make my way down to where I was supposed to meet my contact and get smuggled into the country.

Despite the brief discomfort, the plan went without a hitch, and I was outside, where my driver was already waiting in no time. I stood at the curb, breathing in the cool, damp air ofhome and glaring at the cloudy sky. A sudden storm was the last thing I needed.

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