Page 9 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
“Is this some sort of twisted prank?” she asks after the priest hurriedly packs up and leaves with the witnesses. “Are there hidden cameras? Did Alexey put you up to this?”
I frown at her. “You’re really committing to this act, aren’t you?”
“What act?” she nearly screams. “I have no idea what’s going on!”
“Let’s go,” I say, ignoring her outburst as I tighten my grip on her elbow.
I steer her through the warehouse, but she struggles against me the whole time. By the time we reach the car, she’s dragging her feet, and I’m tired of tugging her along.
“Get in.” I open the passenger side door.
“No,” she says, yanking her arm back. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you are.” I shove her into the seat with some force. Before she can escape, I pull a pair of handcuffs from my pocket.
Her eyes go wide. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t do something stupid.” I snap one cuff around her wrist and lock the other to the door handle.
That’s when she truly lashes out. She scratches at me, and her nails slice across my cheek.
“Fuck!” I shout, recoiling. “Cut it out!”
“Let me go!” she yells, now kicking wildly.
I grab her legs and pin them down. “Stop fighting, Arina. It won’t do you any good!”
“You’re insane!” she screams, still struggling. “I don’t even know what the Bratva is! I don’t know why you think my family hurt yours! My brothers run restaurants, you lunatic!”
I seize her free wrist. “Drop the act. It’s getting old.”
“It’s not an act!” she sobs, breath ragged. “Why won’t you believe me?”
Something in her voice stops me cold. The way she trembles, the raw panic—all of it has me second-guessing myself, something I’ve literally never done.
“How is that possible?” I mutter, more to myself than to her. “How could you not know?”
“Know what?” she demands, wiping at her tears with her free hand.
I step back and slam the door shut, needing to put some distance between us. Could the Sokolovs really have kept their baby sister completely in the dark about their criminal empire? Protected her from the ugly truth?
It seems impossible, yet looking at her now, I’m starting to believe it might be true.
I shake my head, stop myself from falling for her nonsense. If I do, I’ll fail at what I have to do. Instead, I get into the car and begin to drive.
Beside me, Arina continues to sob. She turns to me, trying to move her body to face me. “Please…if you just take me home, we can sort this out. You must think my family is someone else.”
“Your family is criminals,” I say quietly, surely. “Stop acting otherwise.”
She shakes her head in denial. “No. That’s not true. It can’t be.”
I don’t say anything. She gives me some time to drive in silence, thank god.
Then, she asks where I’m taking her with a trembling voice.
“Home. My home.”
She whimpers in fear.
