Page 75 of The Cold Bratva King and His Forced Curvy Bride

The line goes dead.

I stand there for a moment, the words echoing in the silence. Pavel. My lieutenant. My most trusted man. The man I trained, the man I mentored.

He’s a traitor.

I feel a cold rage settle in my chest, a familiar, welcome feeling. It sharpens my senses, clears my mind.

I start planning contingencies. I need to make an example of him.

First, I need to protect her.

Freya’s safety is now intertwined with my own. If Pavel is working with Lorenzo, then she’s a target. A loose end. A liability.

I can’t let that happen.

I walk back into the living room. She’s still by the window, but she’s watching me now, her expression wary.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Everything’s fine,” I say, my voice smooth. “Just business.”

I can see she doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t push.

“We’re going out tonight,” I say, changing the subject.

“Where?”

“A club.”

“I don’t want to go to a club.”

“It’s not a request.”

She opens her mouth to argue, then closes it. She knows it’s pointless.

“Fine,” she says. “I’m not wearing a dress.”

“Wear whatever you want,” I say, my eyes lingering on her. “Just make sure you can run in it.”

***

The club is a labyrinth of shadows and light, the air thick with the smell of expensive perfume and stale cigarette smoke. I lead Freya through the crowd, my hand on the small of her back, a constant, possessive pressure.

She’s wearing black jean shorts and a leather jacket, her hair pulled back in a severe knot. She looks like a warrior, and I feel a surge of pride.

We find a table in the back, secluded, with a clear view of the room.

“Stay here,” I say, my voice low. “Don’t move. Don’t talk to anyone.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to take out the trash.”

I walk away, leaving her alone in the darkness. I can feel her eyes on me, a weight I’ve grown accustomed to.

I find Pavel in the VIP lounge, surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful women. He’s laughing, a drink in his hand, the picture of a man without a care in the world.

He sees me coming, and his smile falters. “Nikita,” he says, his voice tight. “What a surprise.”