Page 52 of Used By the Merciless Bratva
He reached out and gently took my hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles. The touch was soft, so utterly at odds with the cruelty of his words. “You have so much potential. I see it. You’re so clever, so witty, so sharp. But when I see you like this, fueled by jealousy, your face twisted in anger, you’re not you. People change, I know. But you don’t need to lose your essence.”
I pulled my hand away. “Don’t patronize me. You made a public fool out of me.”
He was silent for a moment, and then he leaned in and kissed my temple. It was a soft, possessive kiss.
“I’m just making an account of our life, Katria. A daily account.”
Then, he did something completely unexpected.
He latched his lips on my neck, just below my ear. I sucked in a shaky breath as he kissed and nibbled the sensitive skin.
I was so stunned I didn’t move. He pulled back, his eyes fixed on the hickey he definitely left on my skin, a silent brand of ownership.
“You will not wear your anger like a shield,” he murmured. “You will not make a show of your feelings. I will mark you, and you will understand. You belong to me, and myenemies will see that mark, and they will know not to touch you. You are my property, Katria. My property, my responsibility.”
I finally found my voice, my own sense of self-preservation kicking in. I pulled my face away, my voice low and laced with a cold fury.
“Don’t you dare tease,” I whispered. “If you love control so much, then fucking take it.”
He just looked at me, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I will,” he said, his voice a low, chilling promise. “Very soon.”
He stood up, gave me one last lingering look, and then left the room, leaving me reeling from the aftershock of it all.
Chapter 16 – Danil
I left the suite, the taste of Katria’s defiance still sharp on my tongue. But now, it was time to get back to business. My steps were purposeful as I headed toward my office, my mind already sifting through the reports from the meeting earlier. Feliks’s behavior was a glaring red flag, a neon sign pointing to treason.
As I descended the stairs, a sharp, angry voice cut through the otherwise quiet hum of the estate. Then, another. They were distinct, familiar voices that always seemed to find a way to clash.
I slowed my pace, my eyes narrowing. My first thought was irritation. It was always them: Konstantin and Irene. Their rivalry was a known commodity, an annoying background noise in the Yezhov household.
But this time, something felt different. The tone was sharper, laced with a raw edge I hadn’t heard before. This wasn’t their usual childish squabble over who had slighted whom. This felt…serious. The kind of serious that usually meant secrets. And in my world, secrets meant danger.
I veered off my path to the office, moving silently into the shadows of a large archway, concealed by a heavy velvet curtain. They were in the main hall, near the drawing-room entrance. Their voices, though still somewhat hushed, carried clearly in stillness. I decided not to interrupt. Not yet. I needed to listen. I needed to understand what’s truly happening. This wasn’t about mediating a family spat. This was about intel.
“You’re being ridiculous, Konstantin!” Irene’s voice, usually so composed, was thin and strained. “You always think the worst of me!”
“And you always give me a reason to!” Konstantin shot back, his voice tight with frustration. “This isn’t about me hatingyou, Irene. This is about you being up to something. Something shady.”
My body went still.
Shady.
That was a word that demanded my full attention. My mind immediately connected it to Feliks, to the thumb drive, to the breach. Had Irene somehow gotten herself tangled in his mess? Or was this something else entirely? Either way, it was a problem I needed to unravel.
I waited for Konstantin to get specific.
“I hate you because you give me a thousand reasons to,” he shot back lowly. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m telling you what I saw. You were trying to sneak into Danil’s secret briefcase.”
My breath hitched. Not because of the accusation itself, but because it was exactly what I’d been thinking. I’d always found her behavior off. A little too curious. She had a way of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her questions were never simple. She seemed to be probing for more information, for something she shouldn’t have.
I had attributed it to her innate curiosity. But this was different. This was a clear breach. A line she should never have crossed. My briefcase, kept in my study, was always cherished. It contained some of my most sensitive documents. She knew that. Yet she still tried to get into it.
Irene’s voice was sharp with fear now, her confidence wavering. “That’s a lie! Why would I do that? I was just straightening up the study!”
“Straightening up?” Konstantin laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “With what? A lockpick? Your hands were all over the lock. And you looked terrified when you saw me. Don’t lie, Irene. This isn’t a game. You’re doing something wrong.”
She took a step back, her hands up in front of her. “Konstantin, you’re crazy. You’re making things up because you hate me! What would I do that? What would I even want to get from him?”
