AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So, we should forget that you started this whole mess when you intended to buy her yourself.”
“Giving her a bride gift was not buying her.”
“He was auctioning his daughter’s virginity, and you pissed him off when you married her instead.”
“He was breaking the rules and code we have sworn to uphold. What do we have if we don’t live by our code? Should we look for our women on dating apps? Maybe you can start one with your fancy computers and new ideas. Bratva Brides.com.”
“Sanyet found a woman to fit his life and… culture.” Why was he doing this? And why couldn’t he stop? “And it seems to have worked out for him. Sanyet and Jessalyn seemed happy enough.”
“We don’t marry for happiness, brother. We marry for honor, for duty, for connections. Which you should know. Since your betrothed is on her way. Arriving with Baba next week.”
He didn’t need a fucking wedding reminder. He knew precisely when the last knot in his noose was being tied. Akim Ismailov had selected the exquisite Inessa with her long, flowing hair and dark doe eyes. How often had he looked at her picture and wondered if there was anything behind them? Their few conversations told him exactly nothing. She was as strange to him as the surface of the moon. And she was going to be his wife. If he was going to marry a stranger, why couldn’t it be… No. He wasn’t going there. Instead, he scrubbed his hand over his head. Wondering if he looked in the mirror, who would he see? He didn’t know himself. And if he didn’t know himself, his family damn sure wouldn’t.
“How long before Baranov arrives?”
“He should be here on Sunday.”
“So, five days from now. You’ll have the girl there.”
“No,” he growled.
“The fuck did you say?” The sound of Rurik’s boots hitting the floor bounded across the line. Ven winced, glad he didn’t see the glare his brother usually aimed like a dagger. Rurik was a hulking ex-MMA fighter who earned his role in the bratva as an intelligent strategist and a brutal no, gloves, bare-knuckled fighter. Defeating every challenge to be the second in command of their bratva, reporting only to their father. And taking shit from no one else. But… “I said no. It’s unnecessary. Her fucking picture is on the internet for every slobbering, hairy hand pervert to see. Even though we won’t sell her, we don’t know how many men right now could be plotting to come and take her. Giving her no fucking choice. We put her out there, and we’ll protect her. She served her purpose.”
“She’ll serve her purpose until I say she served her fucking purpose. Or do you want to take me on Venedikt?”
So, he was Venedikt now. He ground out, “If I have to.”
A deep inhale crackled the line. “Does she mean that fucking much to you? Your life…”
How did it come to this? Bewitched. Damn, ved’ma. Some weird hocus-pocus. It had to be. But no one would drool over her in person. If he had to stand between her and fight off a thousand men… or one Ismailov, he would. He sighed. “Make your plans, Rurik. Do what you have to do. You can make this work. I delivered Baranov to you. What you and Sanyet do with him afterward is up to you.”
“If he gets wind, even a breath, that she will not be there. I will hold you responsible… personally. And brother or not. You will pay for your fuck up.”
No pressure. “I understand.”
“Do you, Venedikt? I don’t think so. I don’t think you know what the fuck you’re doing. But if you want to risk your life and family for a few days with some virgin pussy. I get it. As long as it doesn’t fuck up my plans. Baranov arrives on Sunday, and Baba will be here on Tues. You’ll be married on Weds. Enjoy.”
* * *
Rand shoved his chair away from the desk. Rubbing his hand across his bald head as if he were shining a billiard ball… “Enough, Ven. We went over this a hundred times.”
“Then we’ll go over it a hundred more. Until…”
“Until what? We collapse in our chairs? Until you knock me the fuck out, or I knock you the fuck out?” He slammed his fist into a palm. “Look, dude, you need to relax. Chill. Seriously.” He hissed, flatlining his usually smiling lips. “Yes. I have checked every back door that could point back at you. Or to anyone connected with the Ismailovs. He doesn’t know. Baranov thinks he’s showing up to finish his sale, collect his cash and pick up some fresh cherry pie.” A huge smile split his goatee, breaking up the ruggedness of his charcoal skin.
“Do I look like I’m kidding? Is this a time for jokes? We have the safety of these women on our heads. We’re fucking assholes for not reporting this shit to the police. They’re safe for now. But one slip up, and they’re off to a life of fucking hell.”
“Are you worried about all the women, or just one?”
Ven arched his brow. Waiting for him to say another word so he could knock him the fuck out. He’d been itching to do just that since Rurik’s call. But Rand knew when to shut the fuck up. That was the problem with having brothers or best friends. “I’m concerned about them all. But only one came here to us. And so, we’re responsible for her.”
“Is that why you’re keeping her locked in your fucking tower?”
“She isn’t locked. It isn’t a tower. And if she has restricted movement, it’s for her own fucking good. Her image is out there now, and I’m concerned for her safety.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all you should be fucking worried about. Now, let’s go over the shit one more time. Or a hundred more times. Until I say, it’s perfect.”
