Page 65 of Obsessed Bratva King

More names. Politicians. Law enforcement. Officials Darren had on his payroll.

The door behind me creaks open.

I turn instantly, body still wired from the near disaster.

Cora stands in the doorway. Sleep-tousled, but sharp-eyed.

For a moment, I just look at her. She should still be asleep. She looks incredible. I can’t get over how good she looks.

Her gaze flicks to the screens. The files. The evidence. The horror.

Her spine straightens.

"What did you find?"

Maxim exhales beside me, rubbing a hand over his face. Vika doesn’t even bother pretending to be discreet—she watches like she’s waiting for a bomb to go off.

I step toward Cora. I don’t like her standing there, in this room, surrounded by this filth.

"You should be resting."

Her brows pull together. "What did you find?"

Something inside me snaps.

"You’re pregnant, Cora. You don’t need this stress."

Her lips press together, but she doesn’t back down. Of course she doesn’t.

"And I’m still capable."

I scan her face, reading every detail. She’s stubborn, but she’s still exhausted. Still bruised. The lingering shadows of the past days cling to her. But her eyes burn with defiance.

She doesn’t understand.

I let out a slow breath, my fingers curling into fists. "The important thing is you stay safe."

“I want to know what’s on that drive.”

Vika glances our way. “Take your domestic through there. I’ve got to concentrate.”

I take Cora’s hand. “Come on. We’ll talk in there.”

17

CORA

“Cora,” he says once we’re in the bedroom, his voice low, thick with that Russian accent that always makes my stomach twist. “You are the most important thing in the world. You must stay safe.”

My throat feels tight, my words lodged somewhere deep inside me. He takes a step closer. The sound is deliberate, calculated. It’s a warning. He’s in control here, and he wants me to know it. “Please, Ivan…” My voice trails off.

“No,” he says, his tone firm. “You don’t get to beg yet.” He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my cheek. The touch is soft, almost tender, but it sends a jolt of electricity through me. “You belong to me, Cora. You must obey, for your own safety.”

His words make my stomach churn, but not out of fear. No, it’s something else. Something raw and primal. I hate it. I hate how much I crave it.

“You don’t own me,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

Ivan smirks, his hand sliding down to grip my chin. “Don’t I?” His thumb brushes against my bottom lip, and I can’t help but shiver.

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