Page 43 of Stolen By the Bratva

“What’s the point of marrying her? I thought you were convinced that aligning with the Kastavas will ruin us.”

“Not unless I take her as my bride and end their Family in the same blow.”

“How?”

I paced, rubbing the back of my neck as all the stress and fighting caught up to me in a physical sense. I was tired, too, and a good night of rest would make me clearheaded enough to take Mila as my bride tomorrow.

“Because they want to use her to begin the next generation. As Kastavas, not Valkovs. She’s mine now, and I will determine the future of her—our—children. Not Sergei fucking Kastava.”

Maxim swore, immediately uneasy, as I expected he’d be. “How do you know of his plans? We’re trying to get an angle on the shipment and figure out who this third party is with the Colver dock arrangement, and you seem to be going on a different approach with all of this.”

“I’ll explain later. A soldier snuck in to try to kill her.”

“Who put a hit on her?” he demanded.

“Sergei Kastava.”

As he reacted, cursing and asking more questions that I tried to answer the best I could, my patience wore thin. “You’ll help me?”

“Yeah. Yes, Alek. I’ll help. I’ll get it ready and text you once I find a secure place,” he replied.

“Good. Thank you, Brother.”

After I hung up, I felt elated and excited. Stealing Mila from her wedding had caused a lot of commotion.

But I joined her on the bed knowing that marrying her in the morning would incite much more chaos.

Everything we needed to prove to Sergei, Pavel, and the rest of the world that I would be in charge from here on out.

18

MILA

For the second time in such a short span, I woke up knowing I would be married today. It would stick. I was sure that this wedding would actually happen.

I lay in the bed, blinking away the last traces of sleep, and knew that in a few hours, I would no longer be just myself. I would be expected to undergo another identity crisis and change who I was.

Yesterday, Alek took my virginity. That was already a huge shift to get used to. The one thing that had always defined me and kept me safe and untouchable no longer mattered.

Once I shared vows with him, though, I would no longer be Mila Kastava, Sergei Kastava’s daughter. I would be Mila Valkov, Aleksei Valkov’s wife.

The title sounded so powerful, so ultimate and unchangeable, and it would be. Women married for life in the bratva. Divorce was never an option, and spouses remained linked in name and purpose until death.

And mine will reach me swiftly if I don’t do this.

If I were to run away or return to my father, I would be dead. Just because I’d been thwarted from marrying Andrey, I no longer served a usable purpose to him.

A deep sigh left my lips, but it didn’t wake my intended. Alek slept away, not touching me on the bed. His gun remained in his hand, and I grew curious whether something had spooked him to want to hold it. It hadn’t been there last night.

Even if someone had crept too close to our hideout here, I knew he’d keep me safe. I was now his object to treasure and use for leverage. While it stung to always know I mattered as a thing, not a person, I felt safer with him than I had with anyone else.

I couldn’t shake off this sense of bewilderment, though. Me, marrying Alek. It seemed so surreal, but at the same time, so right. Since he’d consummated the union before any plans to marry me, he’d already made it as legitimate as possible. He’d already done that part, and I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t wanted it.

In a sense, I desired what he suggested because it was something I could do for myself. Power was never granted to me, and giving in to the lust for him felt like something under my control. Still, it boggled my mind as I looked him up and down, excited to have the freedom to just study him without having to explain my interest.

It baffled me how I’d gotten to this position, this moment. I’d gone from being in an arranged marriage to being in a stolen one. And still tied up within the bratva. I had been raised to know this would be my life, but I never could have counted on these twists.

The day before my wedding with Andrey, my stomach had been tense with nerves and churning on acid with no food to fill it. That potent anxiety had gripped me in an ugly sense of “jitters”, but it was nothing like the nervousness that filled me now.

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