Page 54 of Forced By the Bratva

Grigori was a free-spirited old man, but he wasn’t harmless. If anything, he was one of the most brutal men I’d ever met.

I’d once watched him take down three men much younger than him with just a piece of a broken bottle. Grigori was as dangerous as they came.

I reached for a waiter’s tray, picked out two champagne flutes, and handed her one.

“Thank you.” She accepted it, holding my gaze for a moment.

“If you two lovebirds are going to engage in a staring contest, I suggest you take it somewhere else.” It was Ivan.

His expression was softer tonight, with what looked like a smile playing on his lips.

“Iris, meet my brother, Ivan.”

“Older brother,” he corrected, without taking his eyes off her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” A pause. “I remember you. You were at our place the other day.”

Did she just refer to the mansion as “our place”?

“Also at our wedding,” she added.

“Indeed.” His small grin widened. “Welcome to the family, Iris. If you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow my brother for a moment.”

“Sure,” she said. “He’s all yours.”

Ivan pulled me aside, and we walked together to a corner.

“You look different,” he said.

“Don’t start.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I can’t explain it, but something about you has…changed.”

I sipped my champagne.

“Listen…” He glanced around, as if making sure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation. “I hear Yevgeni and Markov are up to something, and we both know whatever it is, it’s not good.”

My brows knitted together. “Do you have details?”

“Not yet. But I’ll let you know if I find anything,” he replied. “In the meantime, though, keep her away from the public.”

I traced his gaze to Iris, where she was standing by a champagne tower. She wasn’t alone; a tall, lanky young Bratva official was keeping her company. She didn’t say anything to him, but she listened with a small smile on her face.

My expression darkened instantly, fists clenched at my sides. The idiot had that particular smug smirk of a predator, his eyes flashing with pure lust.

“Don’t create a scene over this, brother.” Ivan tapped my shoulder and excused himself after seeing how pissed I had already become.

The second he left my presence, I marched straight over to where my wife was entertaining that bastard. His name was Nikolas Pavel, an arrogant nitwit charged with multiple sexual assaults and improper behavior around women.

I heard a familiar voice calling my name somewhere to my left, but I ignored them, my eyes fixed on the pervert talking to my wife.

“I’m Nikolas.” He extended his hand, his lustful gaze sweeping over her body. “But you can call me Nik.”

She reached out and was almost to take his hand when I arrived just in time to pull her wrist back.

“She’s not interested,” I said, stepping between them. “Now get lost.”

“Or what?” He drew closer, arrogance on his face. “What’re you gonna do, old man?”