Page 5 of Hunted Bride

“I don’t understand why you’re running away from him,” I say.

“You don’t need to,” she snaps. Her demeanor softens. “Please tell Mom and Dad I’m sorry. I can’t go through with the wedding. I’ll check in when I figure out where to go next.”

Unexpectedly, she pulls me in for a hug. Awkwardly, I pat her back. I know this isn’t sincere affection. In her head, there’s a movie script playing that says she’s supposed to hug her sister now for dramatic purposes. That’s how Alisa’s brain works.

“I’m glad you’re not the one who had to be in an arranged marriage with a bratva heir,” she whispers. “You wouldn’t have lasted five minutes.”

Maybe I’d have handled it better than you, I think to myself. She’s right that I’ve been content to let her carry that burden, though. It’s not like I wanted to be engaged to a stranger to seal a deal for my parents’ business. I might be too hard on her.

“Take my car,” I tell her impulsively. I can get by taking public transit for a few days. If she’s really in trouble, I owe her my help. That’s what family does. Even though we don’t get along, she’s still my sister. Anyone watching this place will think it’s me heading out to run a boring routine errand.

Your stalker would know. Will know. He’s made clear how he can find me anywhere I go. Even inside my own home. A shiver runs through me thinking about it.

A perverse part of me likes knowing that he’s out there watching me. It’s sick, but sometimes I think of him as my guardian angel.

“Really? You’d give me your car?” Alisa says.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s a Honda, not a Benz.”

“Perfect getaway ride,” she says, taking the key fob I offer her. “Thanks, Milena, you’re the best. I knew I could rely on you.”

Suddenly, she’s all sunshine and smiles. Now that she has what she wants.

“Hey, it gets me out of having to be in a wedding. A small price to pay. Don’t get caught! And bring my car back!”

The instant my sister is gone, my phone beeps. Scowling, I pick it up and read the text message on the screen. An unknown number, but the message describes my panties and bra.

You should wear lace bras. No more beige spandex. Pretty things for your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt.

I blocked you, pervert.

You’ll never block me, Mouse. See you at the wedding.

It takes all my self-control not to text back, the wedding’s canceled, asshole. But that would betray my sister, so I don’t.

3

RION

ONE DAY LATER

Later that afternoon, after we’ve delivered my father’s casket to the cemetery and come home, I finally get alone time. I have my cock in my fist stroking slowly, dragging things out while I watch the same thirty seconds of video play on a loop. Milena yanks off her cardigan, throws it aside, missing the couch by a mile. Then she pulls off her lavender dress with the book print and tosses it aside too.

In her bra and panties, she stalks to her closet and starts whipping through the hangers. Better than the kinkiest porn. I could jerk off to her all day.

“Incoming,” my sister announces, rapping her knuckles on the doorframe before barging into my room. “Are you decent?”

“Jesus, Lilia. Do you knock?” I drop my dick like a guilty teenager.

“I gave warning. You asked for a set of clothes for a woman. Here they are.” She tilts her head. Mischief lights up her eyes. “Are you learning how to dress in drag? If so, I can help you learn how to do your makeup. You might need a bigger size, though, considering you’re six-five and two hundred pounds. Whereas those clothes fit a five-foot-eight⁠—”

Da tvoyu zh mat. For fuck’s sake. “They’re not for me, brat. They’re for Nik’s new girlfriend.”

“His what?” Her eyes flare wide.

“Yeah, he picked up some telka. Says he’s marrying her tonight at one of those chapels,” I say, using a crude Russian word that’s roughly equivalent to “chick.”

“Mom will love that. She did say she has to approve of any bratva wives before she chooses a successor.”