Page 89 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva
Hard. Fierce.
I yank away.
“Where is Arina?” I demand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Where are they?”
He doesn’t answer. He just stares at me like silence is supposed to be comforting.
I feel it start to unravel inside me—all the pressure, the fear, the exhaustion, the heartbreak. It all snaps loose. A sob bursts out of me before I can stop it.
Kaz’s expression shifts. “What’s wrong?” he asks, stepping closer again.
I shake my head, the tears already burning down my cheeks. “I just….” My voice shakes. “I don’t know what I am to you, Kaz. I don’t know what this is anymore. I don’t know what I am to you.”
He growls—low, possessive, frustrated—and grabs me by the waist, pulling me in again, this time with less anger and more desperation.
“You’re mine,” he says against my mouth. “You’re mine, Violet. That’s all that matters.”
His hands slide down to my thighs, and he lifts me. A gasp escapes me as my legs instinctively wrap around his torso, my arms clutching his shoulders. His grip is firm, possessive, like he’s anchoring himself to me just as much as I’m clinging to him.
“Kaz—” I whisper, but my voice catches.
His eyes are wild. Unreadable. Something between hunger and heartbreak. “Don’t question what you are to me,” he murmurs, voice ragged. “You’re everything.”
His eyes go wild with lust, and even though I’m full of questions at that moment, I cannot resist. He places me on the bed and climbs over me, his hands fumbling with my dress and pushing it up to my hips. A moan filters out of my mouth, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
“You’re mine, you hear me?” he mumbles against my skin, yanking my panties aside with one hand and shoving down his pants with the other. His cock springs free, and I instinctively spread my legs wider, inviting him in.
He doesn’t waste a second. He slams into me, hot and fast. I cry out, wrapping my legs around his back and pulling him in deeper. He pounds into me, his hot breath on my neck, murmuring sweet nothings in Russian. We both don’t last long. It’s too heated. Too hard. The moment he wraps his moutharound my breasts through my clothes, I’m coming hard and fast with a scream.
“Fuck!” He pounds into me one last time before pulling out and emptying himself on the bed.
Now that the high has worn off, I’m aware that all my questions are still unanswered, and I know Kaz will not answer them. I push away from him the moment it’s over, skin still flushed and heart still racing, but not from pleasure anymore.
“I need to think,” I say, breathless—but it’s not from him now. It’s from everything spinning in my head. Noelle’s voice. The call. The silence.
Kaz tries to reach for me again, but I shake my head, adjusting my dress and slipping out of the room before I change my mind. I don’t know where I’m going until I do.
Arina’s room.
My feet move fast, silent against the wooden floors of the east wing. I don’t even think about what I’ll say—what excuse I’ll give if they’re inside—because I already know something is wrong. Deep in my gut, I’ve known it for a while. Now I need proof.
The door is unlocked.
Red flag number one.
I slip in and close it quietly behind me. The room is cool, dim, still scented faintly of citrus and gun oil. Organized chaos. Their signature.
I don’t mean to snoop—but it’s like my hands have a mind of their own. I head toward the desk, already half-open, and start flipping through folders scattered on top of it. Memos. Maps. Surveillance footage stills.
And then I see it.
My name. Printed in red ink. Not once—twice.
Target: Violet Harrison
Status: Active
Price: $4,000,000
