Page 20 of Bratva Bride

I barely made it halfway up the stairs before I heard the front door slamming open. My foot stopped mid-air above the next step as my father's deep voice boomed throughout the house. "Illayanaaaaaa!"

Fuck he sounded mad. Really mad.

I took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face my father. He stood in the foyer with Aleksandr at his side. His bright blue eyes locked with mine as he stared me down. "Get back here. Now," he ordered, pointing to the ground in front of him.

I slumped my shoulders and lowered my head. I hated being told off by my father. The look of disappointment and anger on his face was almost too much to bear.

A look of sympathy flashed across Aleksandr's face as I made my way back downstairs and stopped in front of them.

"My office. Go."

The second the words left his mouth my feet moved, almost of their own accord. I walked down the long corridor heading towards his office. I felt his presence behind me, looming over me like a dark shadow. I felt the anger rolling off his body as he followed me. At this point, I was fucking petrified.

I stopped in front of his office door and he leaned over me to open it. I stepped in and moved to sit in front of his large mahogany desk while he moved behind it. He shrugged off his suit jacket and placed it neatly over the back of his leather chair. He placed his palms on the desk and slowly lowered himself into the chair, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

I stayed frozen in my spot, sweat rolling down my neck, my nerves so bad I felt like I was gonna throw up. My leg twitched uncontrollably and I cracked my neck.

"How long?" my father asked, his jaw clenched.

Fuck. . . Fuck. . . FUCK! What do I do? What do I say?! Do I admit to what I did? Or play dumb?

I was 99% sure he was talking about Maxim. After the way he behaved at the meet, it couldn't have been more obvious that we were involved.Butthere was the small chance he wasn't talking about Maxim and if I go blabbing, I not only give him another reason to be pissed at me, but I blow my cover.

In the end, I decided to play dumb.

"How long what, father?" I whispered.

He narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth like a fucking animal. "Do not play dumb with me Illayana Rae Volkov. You know exactly what I'm talking about. How. Long?"

Oh shit, he full-named me. I'mdefinitelyin trouble.

"Father, I don't—

He was up and out of his chair before I could even finish my sentence. He jumped over the desk like he was some parkour king and wrapped his hand around my throat, lifting me from my chair.

I froze, fear overtaking my body completely.

There were only two other times I could remember where my father had ever laid a hand on me outside of the ring. The first was when I was eleven. It was my birthday and my mother had gotten me my favourite dark chocolate mud cake. I remember seeing it in the fridge and the feeling of pure glee came over me as I realised the whole thing was going to be for me. That was, until Lukyan decided he would eat it instead. Theentirefucking thing.

I still remember the anger I had at seeing that little shit covered from head to toe inmychocolate cake. I was fuming! I was also a tad bit hormonal at the time because I had gotten my period for the first time a few days prior. That was the excuse my mother used anyway to explain my actions next.

I reached under the kitchen table and grabbed the gun I knew was stashed there. I lifted it in the air, pointed it at my brother, cocked it and fired. Thankfully, I was a terrible fucking shot at that age and I missed him entirely.

I had never seen my father so mad before, and at the time I didn't understand why. I had seen him shoot tons of people before for disrespecting him, how was this any different? He ripped the gun from my hands and backhanded me so hard my tiny body flew across the kitchen.

The second time, I was sixteen and my boyfriend at the time had somehow managed to convince me to steal my father's $200,000 Lamborghini. After getting drunk and high, we took it for a spin and accidentally totaled it. The car was completely fucked beyond repair and I knew my father was gonna kill me. Hedidkill the boy I was with in the car and whacked me around a few times to teach me a lesson.

The sound of his voice pulled me from the past and my eyes refocused on him.

"How fucking long, Illayana?" he growled, his hand still wrapped around my throat. He wasn't squeezing hard enough to obstruct my breathing, but it was still uncomfortable as fuck.

"A few years," I croaked out.

Father cursed in Russian and let me go. My body slumped back down into the chair as he moved to the office door. My hands instinctively went to my throat, massaging it even though he didn't apply much pressure.

"Aleksandr!" he barked.

A few seconds later, Aleksandr and Nikolai came in. Each had a hand wrapped around Maxim's arm as they escorted him inside. Lukyan followed close behind, a look of pure menace on his face.

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