Page 19 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
I open my mouth to argue when he smirks. “If you didn’t want to, you should have written it in the contract clauses, along with your declaration not to sleep with me.”
I blush, remembering that moment. But I’m not quite done yet.
“What about,” I scramble for an argument against this preposterous idea, “my passport?”
“I had a new one made,” he shrugs.
I freeze. He…got a new passport made? I know he’s wealthy. Powerful. But can anyone be that powerful? A small voice in my head screams out a warning. Tells me there might be more at play here.
But then again, what do I know of rich people? He might be a billionaire or something. He probably just has access to power I can’t even imagine.
“How?” I whisper in disbelief.
“Does it matter how?” he shuts down any other questions I may have.
“Give it to me!” I narrow my eyes and slide out my hand. He looks reluctant, but passes it to me. I flip through it, and sure as hell, it’s authentic. The real deal. Brand new. He must have really pulled some strings to have this done.
“How did you get my picture?” I ask, my mouth hanging open.
“They used the one they had on record,” he says. “I filed a report on your behalf, claiming the previous one got lost.”
“You could go to jail!” I shriek. “This is forgery!”
He cocks an eyebrow at me as though to say, Really?
“Guess you’re right,” I say, frowning at him. “You kidnapped me and didn’t go to jail. What’s a little passport?”
He looks offended and tells me there are other things he hasn’t gone to jail for, but doesn’t give me details.
“Proud little brat,” I mutter.
“Spoilt little princess,” he mutters back, under his breath.
“Don’t call me—”
“Princess. I know. Old habits,” he shrugs. But there’s something in his expression that tells me he won’t stop.
I smile. This morning banter…it’s almost fun. But I’m tired, exhausted, and mildly annoyed at that smug expression on his face, so I turn away and say I need a nap. After all, it’s still only 6 AM.
And within seconds, I doze off.
***
“Arina.” I hear Ilariy’s soft voice as he gently rubs my shoulder to wake me. “We’re here.”
“Mm-hmm.” I open my eyes lazily, and his face is the first thing I see. So close, his soft smile curving in that dimple. So handsome.
I suddenly jerk away, shrugging off his hand. What am I thinking?
“We’re here?” I squeak, looking out of the window, expecting to see the lines outside the airport.
Instead, my jaw drops open.
I hear Ilariy exit and am still so stunned, my eyes fixated on the sleek white jet that waits for us on the tarmac, that I only exit when Ilariy opens the car door and helps me out.
“That’s... yours?” I hate how breathy my voice sounds when I exit the car.
“One of them,” Ilariy says casually.
