Page 33 of My Bratva Stalker

I let the exhaustion pull me under. And for the first time in a long while, I fall asleep peacefully.

Viktor

Marie’s father is one of the few men I respect. Not because he’s dangerous, powerful or wealthy. But because he’s never feared me. Oh, he knows I could snap him like a twig. But even though he works for me and knows what I am, what I do—he never cowered to me. He’s obedient, but he’s also always been a man who looks me in the eye when we speak. He’s also a man of his word, a man of values. And that’s why I called to meet him. Because I don’t want to disrespect him.

He watches me from across the table, his face unreadable. But I can tell he already knows.

I don’t speak at first. And neither does he. Then he sighs, setting down his coffee on the small corner table we’re sitting at in a high-end cafe. His jaw tightens.

Then he says it. “You’re not going to make my daughter a whore.”

I smirk. Slow. Dark. Because I expected him to say that. Because he doesn’t understand yet.

I lean forward, my voice calm but firm. “I don’t want to make her a whore, old man.” I hold his gaze. Let him see the truth in my words. “I want to wife her.”

His lips press together, his shoulders stiffening. Then he exhales, shaking his head. “What does that mean, Viktor? You’regoing to lock her up in a golden cage? Keep her trapped, and covered in money?”

My jaw clenches, my fists curling on the table. Because the idea of Marie ever feeling trapped—of her ever wanting to escape me—makes my blood fucking burn.

I lean forward, my voice deadly, unrelenting.

“I’m going to marry her.” His breath hitches. “She’s going to be my wife. The mother of my children.”

His eyes widen. Not in fear. Not in anger. But in shock. Because he never would have thought I was serious about his daughter.

Gaye swallows hard. Then his voice drops low and unwavering. “I will never let anyone destroy my kids’ lives.”

I stay silent. Because I know what he’s going to say next. And I respect it.

“She’s my little girl. I don’t care who you are. I don’t care how much money you have, how many men you can send after me. You may think I’m nothing, but I will fight. I will put my life down for my daughter to be free. To make her own choices.”

I nod once. Because he’s right. But he doesn’t understand. Marie is already mine. She already belongs to me. She chose me, too.

Marie

I wake up sore. Wrecked. And happy. Happier than I’ve ever been in my life.

My body is boneless, spent, a dull ache lingering between my thighs—a reminder of last night. Of Viktor. Of how he took me. How I let him.

I stretch slowly, sinking into the impossibly soft mattress. The sheets are smooth, expensive, smelling of his cologne and our mingled scents. Rich, heavy, masculine—

Just like him.

I let out a soft sigh, my fingers trailing over the pillowcase.

I should feel embarrassed, ashamed.

But I don’t.

Because Viktor pushed me past my limits last night. He made me feels things I didn’t even know I craved. And for the first time in a long time, I feel… safe. Wanted. Treasured.

I sit up, letting the blanket slip off my bare skin.

The room is beautiful—

Dark wood, soft lighting, walls lined with bookshelves and paintings I bet cost more than my college education.

A massive fireplace sits in the corner.

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