Page 29 of Bratva Hostage

I gather the scattered pages quickly, pretending I haven’t just thrown them in frustration. “Come in.”

He slips in and eyes the disarray. I don’t offer any explanations. He already knows my mood is precarious.

Aleksei sets a folder on the desk. “We have the official documents. The officiant arrives in the morning. Everything’s in place.”

I flip through the folder and see the contract that merges Cecily’s name with mine. “I’ll handle the rest,” I reply. “She won’t be happy.”

“As long as she understands how important it is that we lock down this arrangement. Thorne will think twice about going after you if she’s under our name.”

“I know,” I mutter and shut the folder. “I’ll talk to her about the final details.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Let me know if you need anything else.” He exits, giving me one last searching look before shutting the door.

I pace, trying to figure out the right approach for dealing with Cecily’s resistance. She doesn’t see how close we are to an all-out confrontation with Thorne. We intercepted his last attempt on the estate, but we can’t hold out forever if he keeps recruiting men willing to test our defenses. Neutralizing him is essential, and locking her in as a Barkov is the most direct route to cutting off his leverage. That’s the logical side of this. The rest is a tangle of impulsive hunger that I’m trying to ignore.

I stride to the door and head down the corridor. A guard stationed near her room nods. I knock and enter without waiting for a reply. She’s on her feet by the window, her glare aimed straight at me.

“What do you want?” she demands.

I hold up a short list. “You need to decide on a few things for tomorrow.” I hate how stiff I sound, but any warmth on my part will seem manipulative, and she’s already convinced I’m backing her into a corner. “The officiant is coming at nine. We have to figure out what you’re wearing, who will stand as a witness, that sort of thing.”

She scoffs. “You want me to pick out a dress?”

“There are options in the wardrobe that might fit.”

She looks at me like I’m insane. “I’m not playing bride. I’m not rummaging for something pretty. You’re forcing me into this, so don’t expect me to help with your pageantry.”

“It’s not pageantry,” I reply. “It’s an arrangement that keeps you alive.”

She snatches the list, skims it, and tosses it aside. “This is ridiculous. I don’t care about flowers or any of this nonsense.”

“This nonsense is part of a legal ceremony. We do it properly. My brothers will be there, along with a few key associates, so Thorne realizes it’s official.”

“You think he’ll care if I wear a white dress?” Her voice drips with contempt. “He’s going to see this as you taking what belongs to him.”

Her words trigger the possessive streak I’ve been fighting, and I crack my neck as a way to ease out the tension before I blow. She’s seen enough of my violent side. “Then he can watch from afar, or he can make a move and lose. Either way, you won’t be a Thorne. You’ll be one of us.”

She doesn’t hide her shudder. “Hooray.”

“If you need help, the staff is at your disposal. If you ignore these decisions, I’ll have them made for you.”

“Fine,” she snaps. “Let them do it. Let them pick out the most ostentatious dress in your entire closet so everyone knows this is a farce.”

“That’s enough,” I warn. “I’m trying to give you some control here.”

“That’s rich.”

I fight the urge to argue further, deciding it’s best to cut this short. “I’ll check in later. The ceremony is tomorrow at nine. Don’t be late.”

I spin on my heel and walk out, ignoring the urge to slam the door. My mind reels as I head to the main hall, where Maksim waits with a set of instructions. He thrusts them into my hand, and I realize this is about a separate mission we have tonight, one that involves rooting out a rival faction that’s been poking around our outskirts. The timing couldn’t be worse, but maybe I need the distraction.

“We’ve located three men from the Kovalev crew who’ve been muscling in on our distribution lines,” he explains. “They’re holed up in a vacant property downtown. We’ll move in, remove any threat, and if we find someone who knows more, we interrogate them. You leading?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “I want this done before midnight.”

He nods, and together we walk toward the garage, where a few of our enforcers wait. They’ve loaded gear into two black SUVs. Maksim and I climb into the lead vehicle, and our men follow in the second. I keep my head focused on what’s next. Violence is simpler. I know how to corner a target, I know how to force answers from them, and I know how to put them down if they stand in my way.

We arrive at the vacant property, a low-slung warehouse with rusted siding. The place looks deserted, but we’ve confirmed the Kovalev men are inside. Maksim and I each lead a group around either side of the building, careful to avoid making too much noise. When we reach a side door, two of our men rig a small device that breaches the lock in seconds. Then we’re in.

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