Page 10 of Chased & Bred by the BRATVA
Like I was already his. Like hewantedto keep me.
Clara leads me into a huge kitchen. The table is too big for just the two of us, but that doesn’t stop her from pouring coffee and sliding a plate of fresh pastries my way like we’re old friends.
“I know you probably have a thousand questions,” she says.
“I do,” I admit.
She nods. “And they’ll be answered. But maybe not all at once. Things here move at their own pace.”
I take a sip of coffee and let the heat settle in my chest.
Clara’s watching me closely. “You’re not afraid.”
It’s not a question.
I shake my head. “Not of him.”
That gets me a small, knowing smile.
Nikolai
I need names.
I make my way down the hall, past the offices and toward the conference room at the back of the estate. Maksim and Roman are already there, sitting at the table with steaming mugs in front of them and cold looks on their faces.
Roman glances up as I enter. “You look like shit,” he says.
“Funny,” I reply, “Because I feel fucking awesome.”
Maksim arches a brow. “Clara said you brought someone home.”
I say nothing. Just sit. That should be answer enough.
Roman leans back in his chair, studying me like he’s trying to read through my skin. “You planning to keep this one, or is she another casualty waiting to happen?”
I don’t flinch. “She’s not going anywhere.”
The air tightens. Maksim’s eyes narrow slightly, but not in disapproval. It’s calculation. The same way he looks at new acquisitions. At territory that has not yet been claimed.
“She came through the woods?” he asks.
“She was running from someone. Said she got into the wrong car after her friends ditched her at a club. Recognized the vehicle make. Thought it was her ride.”
Roman snorts. “Amateurs. You have any descriptions?”
I nod. “Two men. Early twenties. Drunk. American accents. One had a scar on the back of his left hand and a cigarette behind his ear, the other a scorpion tattoo on his neck. She said they didn’t speak much until she started asking questions. Then they told her they just wanted to have fun.”
“Fun,” Roman repeats, voice dry and laced with venom. “The kind you don’t walk away from.”
“She jumped out before they could touch her.”
“You’re sure?” Maksim asks.
“She had scrapes on her palms, bruises. I saw her body. They didn’t get that far.”
Maksim nods slowly. “Good.”
Roman smiles without humor. “How do you want to handle it?”
