Page 24 of The Bratva’s Captive Flame

"No." My heart is beating wildly. I don't want to pressure my father, but I have a feeling he's going to try to make me. "The only way I make my father do something he's set against is to break him, to lie to him, or to scare him into it, and I won't do any of those things. He's old, Demin. He's frail. He's spent years in a cage being beaten. I won't be one more person who hurts him. I came here to get him free."

There is, of course, one more thing I know would move my father's hand, but I won't give Demin that information. If they so much as threaten me to him, he'll do whatever they want just to save me. I just don't want that for him.

Demin sets the glass down and drums his fingers on the desk beside it. "Well, if you won't give me what I need, then you stay. Indefinitely. You're Bratva property until the debt you owe me is paid, one way or another."

"What are you saying?" I ask him, ready to spit on him or smack his face.

I let him have me. I let myself be vulnerable and touch him and let myself be taken. He has no fucking heart. I thought maybe after sleeping with him, he'd be able to sense my emotional distress, know that I only want what's best for my father. But this?

"I'm saying," he says, standing slowly, “that you fucking belong to me." His eyes go a gunmetal grey as they narrow on me. "I'm saying that I own you. And you can make your father do what I say, or you can belong to me as my object every day for the rest of your life."

A growl that's more of a scream erupts from my chest, boiling over until I stomp my foot, hands clenched at my sides. "You demon!" I hiss, lashing out so hastily, it catches him by surprise. I spew out a string of curse words in Spanish and his eyebrows lift. "You can't fucking do this!"

"Careful," he warns, glancing at the door. I hear it open but ignore it.

"You're a monster. I should've stayed with Solano. At least he never forced me into his bed and⁠—"

"Watch what you're saying!" Demin booms, making me jump. He hasn't raised his voice to me yet, and it scares me.

"I hate you," I say quietly. "I hate this family. I hate your business. And I hate the very breath you breathe because it keeps you alive."

"Take her to my room, please," he orders, and in seconds Mishka's hands are on my elbows again, pinching hard.

"You fucker! You piece of shit!"

"Say it in Spanish, Milaya. You sound sexier." Demin sits calmly, picking up his drink again as he watches Mishka drag me to the door.

"¡Hijo de puta! ¡Pendejo de mierda! ¡Cabrón! ¡Maldito bastardo! ¡Te odio, cabrón! ¡Te voy a matar, hijo de la chingada! ¡Vete a la mierda!" I don't care that he's smirking. I don’t care that he thinks it's sexy. I don't care that my body wants him.

That man cannot control me. I won't allow it.

Mishka drags me all the way back to the room and locks me in and as the lock clicks, I realize exactly why Papa wants free. This feeling of being owned is the worst feeling in the world.

I have to get out of here.

14

DEMIN

In all my years, I've never had to deal with an insider selling me out. It's enough that Bart and Mishka know. If it's one of them, I'm fucked. But if it's not and whoever is doing this finds out they know, they could have targets on their backs.

When someone on the inside is moving against you, you can't take any chances. It's why my phone rings through to a number I haven't used in years. An old friend who was once in the inner circle and walked away when it was time to retire. Some people, including my uncle, had their doubts about his loyalties, but I never did. And today, that confidence in him might just save my ass.

"Demin Roshin." Sergei Kalenov sounds amused already. It's been years since we've spoken, but I'd never forget the tone of voice he uses when he's at ease. "Either someone's dead, or someone's about to be. Which is it?" He chuckles, but this is no laughing matter, and he'll soon find that out.

"Neither. Yet." I lean back in my chair, keeping my voice quiet so the men outside my door don't hear me. "I have a situation, Sergei. The kind I can't hand to anyone inside my own house."

The amusement drains out of his voice immediately. "You're saying you've got a leak?" Sergei was the best enforcer my family ever had. When he set it all down and walked away, some men never forgave him for that. Maybe he's the exact person I need to hire to help me with this little problem.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we ran a job two nights ago and they knew we were coming…" It still sits wrong with me, but I'm actively taking steps to fix this issue before Sebastian finds out and I have to own up to the shame of it.

Sergei whistles quietly. "So you have a mole?"

"I need your help."

He sighs and I hear his knuckles cracking. "That sounds like a lot of shit to be shoveling, Dem…"