Page 21 of Used By the Merciless Bratva
He sighed. “Do you need anything else?” he inquired, nodding toward the tray of food.
I opened the tray to see if water was included in the package. “Nope.”
“Okay.”
Once the door locked behind him, I dug into the meal.
Of course, a mansion like this had a massive kitchen that cooks swarmed, producing gourmet meals every day.
The door suddenly opened, and another guy came in.
“Sergei said you wouldn’t sign the papers,” he uttered, half-accusing, half-asking.
He looked older than the guy who brought my food—the Sergei he mentioned—and his fitted black T-shirt showcased his broad chest.
He stepped closer, extending the papers to me.
“I’m not signing any papers. How many more times do I have to say it?”
“Look, you might not want to. But you have to. I mean, I’ll force you if I have to.”
I found it ironic that, although his tone was tight, he sounded more friendly than Sergei, while he was the one subtly threatening me.
“Force me, how?” I spat, a humorless laugh leaving my lips.
“The options are endless,” he answered as he dropped the paper and pen on the bed beside me. “A plier to your toenails. Or your teeth. The molars won’t be noticeable in the wedding picture.”
Holding back my gasp, I grabbed the papers.
“I’m going to burn it. I’ll burn the fucking papers; you have no idea where my lighter is,” I rushed to say, the look of victory on his face changing into one of surprise.
He slid the papers from my hands and picked up the pen.
“You’ll sign,” he told me before walking out the door.
I wondered how many of his men he would send before he got the message.
It felt like the exhaustion from the day’s troubles was waiting for me to eat. I yawned as I pushed the stool away. Part of my relief came from the fact that no one else brought those ridiculous papers to me.
I forced myself to get up from the bed.
I wasn’t disappointed when I opened the bathroom door. The white-walled, tiled room featured a wide sink to the right and a toilet at the far end. To the left, the shower stood tall, surrounded by transparent glass.
I looked around the edges of the bathroom as I stepped inside.
Who knows what kind of pervert their ‘boss’ is.
No bathroom cameras, check.
I rinsed my face at the sink and stared at my tired reflection in the mirror above it. Leaning my palms against the sturdy sink, I let out a huff of breath through my mouth.
My hair wasn’t as frizzy as I thought it was, thanks to the excess conditioner from the day before. My cream-colored shirt, on the other hand, was nothing to write home about. The creases on the satin material were the ultimate pointers of how rough my day had been.
I left the bathroom and rolled to the center of the bed. The smooth sheets and soft mattress lulled me into a state of near unconsciousness amid my circumstances.
***
I opened my eyes and screwed them shut again when everything went silent after the click I thought I heard. I had heard that sound too many times that my mind was making it up. Still, I couldn’t get myself to go back to sleep. I pushed the covers that barely got to my knees off and stomped toward the bathroom.
