Page 15 of Scarred Bratva King

“Like it?” I turn to her, my eyes wide. “Just leave me a pillow, a blanket, and some snacks and I’ll die happy.”

I run over to the nearest armchair and sink into it. “Oh my God.”

She grins at me. “You sit and read. I’ll go get the snacks.”

I’m back in the water, the freezing river dragging me under.

My lungs burn as I struggle, my vision blurring, and then… strong arms pull me to the surface.

A man’s arms. His grip is firm but somehow soft and caring, his dark eyes piercing as he stares down at me.

“Don’t fight this,” he whispers, his voice deep. A Russian accent. “You’re safe.” The words wrap around me like a blanket, warm and soothing.

Suddenly we’re in bed. His bed. His hands trail over my skin, his touch igniting heat within me. I feel safe, yes, but also something else. Something so much more. His lips trace kisses over my bruises, moving lower, pushing my legs apart…

I wake with a start, my heart racing, my breath coming in short gasps. A book has fallen into my lap. I whip my head around. The library.

I must have fallen asleep.

The man from the dream lingers in my mind, his face vivid and unshakable. My core throbs with need as I try to push the images out of my mind.

A dream. That’s all it was. Just a dream.

8

VERONICA

The next day…

Sunlight floods the formal breakfast room through towering windows. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and buttery croissants wafts through the air, but my stomach churns too much to even consider eating.

I poke half-heartedly at a piece of toast on my plate, my thoughts clouded by the remnants of last night’s dream. The stranger again. Saving me again. Taking me into his bed again.

His face is still vivid in my mind—those dark eyes, that steady voice whispering I was safe. My fingers twitch against the table, and I force myself to look up, shaking off the memory as Elena places a hand on mine.

“You didn’t sleep well, did you?” she asks gently, her eyes filled with concern.

I shrug, trying to keep my tone light. “Like a military parade. Kept passing out then getting disciplined.”

Elena chuckles softly, but the tension in her gaze doesn’t fade. “Sounds kind of fun.”

Before I can respond, Dmitri’s voice cuts through the room. “Good morning, ladies.”

I glance up to see him striding into the room. The man radiates authority, his movements precise and deliberate, but there’s an odd softness in his expression when his eyes meet Elena’s.

“Veronica,” he greets, turning his attention to me. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like I almost drowned,” I reply, leaning back in my chair. “But hey, at least I’m alive. That’s something, right?”

His lips twitch, forming a smile. “We need to ensure you stay alive in future. That means killing Marco Gorlami and Vito Lombardi.”

“Wow, not one for small talk, are you? Just straight into planning murder with your coffee?”

Elena clears her throat, shooting him a warning glance, but Dmitri ignores her as he takes a seat at the head of the table. His gaze locks onto mine, and the air in the room grows thicker.

He folds his hands on the table, his piercing gaze unwavering. “To keep you safe from Marco, we need to make it clear that you’re under our protection. That protection will come from marrying my cousin, Maxim.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, narrowing my eyes. “Sorry, what?”

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