Page 14 of My Bratva Christmas


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Interestingly, on the other side of the room, my dress from the night before is neatly folded on top of a dresser, with my high heels just next to it. There’s no sign of the trashed pantyhose.

Taking another look around, I spot a piece of paper taped to the closet door and cross the room to see what it is.

Merry Christmas. Please get dressed and join us as soon as you are ready.

A note from the guys?

And get dressed? In what? My blood-stained dress from the gallery? The robe I am currently wearing?

But when I wander over to my closet, the instructions make sense.

Hanging before me, in a walk-in closet nearly the size of my entire apartment, are several dresses, pairs of pants, blouses, and sweaters, which, after fingering, I realize are cashmere.

Freaking cashmere.

And they are my size.

What in god’s name is going on here?

A knock at the door drives my heart into my throat. Had I locked it? And would it matter, anyway?

I glance around the closet, looking for a place to hide, and then realize that’s about the dumbest thing to ever cross my mind.

Way to go, Lily!

“Um, hello?” I say with all the conviction I can muster.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, it’s Christmas morning. Why don’t you come join us?”

Is that Valentin? He sounds so much like his brother.

And what does he meanjoin them? In what? Singing Christmas carols? Baking cookies? Telling stories by the fire?

Somehow, I don’t think these guys go to church.

“Sure. Be right there,” I call.

Like I have anything else to do.

“It’s already after noon, you know,” he says.

Oh my god. Because I am phone-less, I have no idea I slept so long.

“Let me just get dressed then, okay?” I ask.

The footsteps move away, and I take a deep breath to calm myself. I rush into the bathroom and find I have a smudge of blood on my face from the night before, and there’s mascara smeared under my eyes.

I turn the shower on hot and jump in, but not before locking the door.

* * *

“Well. Look what we have here.”

I’m at the bottom of the stairs in what looks like a freaking mansion before Grisha notices me. I am being stealthy on purpose, and in fact listened from upstairs for as long as I could to see what the guys were up to.

They’re watching Christmas Day football. Yup. My captors are actual football fans.

How has my life gotten so weird?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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