Page 30 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

Roman leads me through the lobby, past a concierge who nods respectfully without making eye contact. We reach a private elevator that requires a keycard and a code.

The ride up is smooth and silent. I watch the floor numbers climb on the display panel, my reflection ghostly in the brushed steel doors.

The penthouse takes up the entire top floor.

When the elevator doors open, I step into a space that’s all sharp angles and hard surfaces. The living room is massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a view of the city skyline glittering in the darkness. A grand piano sits in one corner, though it looks too spotless to ever be played.

The kitchen is visible from the living room, separated by a long marble island. It looks like a showroom, not a place where anyone actually cooks.

He flicks a switch and the lighting shifts from harsh overhead to softer ambient. It doesn’t help. The place still feels cold.

“Your room is this way,” he says.

I follow him down a hallway lined with abstract art. The pieces are expensive and impersonal. Everything is shades of black and gray.

My room turns out to be a guest suite with its own bathroom and a king-size bed dressed in gray linens. My suitcase sits on a luggage rack in the corner, and I can see my clothes hanging in the open closet. Someone has unpacked for me.

Roman sighs. “What’s wrong now?”

“Don’t.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend. “Just... don’t.”

I hear him take a breath. When he speaks again, his voice is colder. “We need to talk about what Konstantin said.”

“I heard what he said.” I turn to face him. He’s standing in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. “Anton wants to marry me. What else is there to discuss?”

“That’s not what’s going to happen.”

“Isn’t it?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You heard him.”

Roman steps into the room. “I didn’t know this was Anton’s angle,” he says. “I suspected he had plans, but I didn’t know my father had already approved the match.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better? That you didn’t know?” I shake my head. “You should have seen it coming.”

He runs a hand through his hair, and for the first time since I’ve met him, he looks genuinely frustrated.

“You won’t belong to Anton,” he says. “I won’t allow it.”

Roman takes another step toward me. We’re standing less than a foot apart now, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. “There’s something Konstantin didn’t count on.”

“What?”

“Me.” His hand comes up to cup my jaw. His thumb presses into my bottom lip, and I shudder despite myself. “I was exiled for ten years, Vera. Sent to run operations in Siberia while Dmitri took everything that should have been mine.”

“Siberia,” I repeat.

His thumb brushes across my lower lip. My breath catches.

“Konstantin thinks I’m a pushover,” Roman continues. “That I’ll fall in line and accept his decisions. He doesn’t realize that Siberia changed me. It made me into something he can’t control.”

“What happens when he decides you’re too dangerous to keep around?” I ask. My voice is barely above a whisper.

“Then I’ll deal with it.” Roman’s other hand finds my waist, pulling me closer until my body is pressed against his. “I didn’t come back from exile to lose everything again. I sure as hell didn’t find you just to hand you over to a man like Anton.”

“Find me,” I echo. “Right.”

“You are,” his mouth hovers over mine, “something precious. Something worth fighting for.”

Without thinking, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him to me. Consequences be damned.