Page 14 of The Bratva's Arranged Virgin Bride
Chapter 9 - Kolya
For just a moment, I thought I was wrong about her motives. She wasn’t trying to run away from me. She didn’t even want to kill me. The poor, sweet little fool was hopelessly in love with me. This new revelation was hilarious. Adorable, even. She was more innocent than I ever suspected. It put a whole new spin on my plans to infiltrate her family.
And shockingly, the knowledge kicked me straight in the guts.
Dangerous, that’s what she always was. Not just because of who she was, either. I got out of our scheme when I thought she was getting too caught up, too close to being discovered by her overbearing father. Of course, if I had a daughter as fiery as Nat, I’d keep her under lock and key, too. I definitely wouldn’t let her gallivant around a foreign country, getting up to no good with older men like me.
Yes, she was dangerous then, both to my physical and emotional well-being. She wasn’t the only one getting too caught up. What had started out as just another one of my favorite scams, meant to only last a week or two, ended up lasting longer because I couldn’t let go. What was supposed to be a bit of fun and a quick way to make a mountain of easy cash turned into something that might have ended me.
And now here I was, married to her.
I watched as she pulled out her phone, instantly turning chalk white, the rosy fire of running down the beach from me draining from her cheeks. I snapped back to reality. Whatever was going on here seemed to be catching up to her. Maybe to both of us.
What she had for me, if anything, was just a silly crush. I could use that to my advantage, and I would, soon enough. Right now, it looked like she was going to pass out on the sand.
After looking at her phone, she grabbed my hand, forcing a smile that would have tricked no one. “We have to leave,” she said, trying to sound calm and failing. “The country. Now.”
Another forced smile, but there was a haunted look in her eyes, as if an entire army was at my doorstep that very moment. I glanced toward the house. Knowing her family, and having no idea what Nat was up to, there could have been.
She began to tug at me, still trying to pretend she wasn’t afraid of something.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I commanded.
She grimaced and shook her head, tossing her long blonde hair. “What? Nothing. I just want absolute privacy on our… um, honeymoon.”
Bullshit.
“No one knows I own this house,” I said, taking advantage of her grip on my arm to pull her close. Her head snapped back, her eyes wide as her mouth fell open in shock. “I’m ready for that kiss,” I told her.
Oh yes, I remembered the one in Milan. The one that changed everything. It was then I knew my time was up, and I started to pull away to eventually disappear. I had wanted too much, even for me.
From a damn Bratva princess, no less.
Slithering out of my grasp, she glanced at the sky, like they might come in helicopters, whoever or whatever was scaring the hell out of her. There was nothing but hazy blue sky and a few clouds scattered overhead. The beach was deserted,as usual, completely quiet and peaceful. She tried tugging on my arm again, but I refused to budge, giving her a look that told her she better start talking.
She stared back at me, more beautiful than I ever remembered. I’d spent the last few months trying to scrub her from my memory, hoping that taking everything her family owned might finally rid me of thoughts that could go nowhere and only dragged me down.
Except now I was married to her. Nataliye Fokin. No, Mikhailov now. She was mine at last and without doing a damn thing.
After a long moment, she finally spit out the truth. “The change in plans was all my doing.”
I shrugged. While this made things very interesting indeed, it didn’t matter to me at all who I ended up with, as long as I was able to obtain the information I needed. “All I wanted was an alliance with your family,” I said smoothly. “The woman who walked down the aisle hardly matters.”
It was true enough, because I had a goal I meant to attain. Was I delighted to have her close enough to reach out and touch? Sure. She didn’t have to know it.
She sputtered, barely pausing to give me a look of pure disgust, tinged with hatred. “My family had no idea I was going to do this.” She spoke slowly, enunciating each word like I were a child.
Once again, I shrugged. “Why is that my problem? Do you fear a spanking, little girl?”
Her cheeks flamed red. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed.
I took a step closer, sliding my hand around her back to pull her to me. “Why not? Do you like it a bit too much?”
Her hands curled into fists, flew up, and pounded me hard in the chest. “Did you sign papers at the church?” she asked.
“Of course,” I told her, then started feeling a cold tingle at the base of my spine.
For a split second, she looked triumphant. “With Masha,” she said.
