Page 18 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva
But I can’t.
Something about her…it’s under my skin. Buried deep. The defiance. The fire. The way she looks at me like she’s terrified and furious and still won’t break. I should hate it.
Instead, I feel fucking obsessed.
And in that moment—right there, with her standing in front of me trembling but proud, and Maxim staring at me like I’ve lost my edge—I decide.
Irrevocably.
She’s mine.
I want her.
Not just tonight. Not just until this problem goes away.
I want to unravel her.
I want to own her.
I want to see how far she bends before she breaks—and then I want to put her back together again, piece by piece, so no one else ever gets to touch her the way I will.
I say nothing for a second. Just watch her. Memorize the way she swallows hard, trying to hide the panic, trying to hold herself together in front of monsters.
Maxim sighs. “Well?”
I turn slowly to face him, my voice cool, measured. “No one’s dying today.”
His brows arch. “What about tomorrow?”
I glance once at Violet.
No—I stare. I let her see it in my eyes. The decision forming. The madness I know is already written all over my fucking face.
“She’s not a problem anymore,” I say, loud enough for both of them to hear. “She’s mine.”
Violet jolts like I’ve slapped her. Her wide eyes swing to me. “What the hell does that even mean?”
I take a slow step forward. Her chin lifts instinctively, defiant to the last second.
“It means you’re staying here,” I say, voice low and even. “With me. Until I decide what to do with you.”
She shakes her head, fury and disbelief making her breath come faster. “You can’t do that.”
I raise a brow. “I just did.”
“This is insane,” she snaps. “I have a life. I have friends, a job, a goddamn future—you can’t just take that from me!”
My jaw ticks.
“You should’ve thought of that before you took photos of a murder,” I say coldly. “You want freedom? Should’ve picked a safer hobby.”
“I’m innocent,” she cries, her voice sharp with panic. “I didn’t even know you were there!”
I lean in close, just enough for her to feel the heat of my breath on her cheek. “And yet…here you are.”
She swallows hard.
“Get used to being a prisoner,solnyshko,” I murmur. “That’s your life now.”
