Page 43 of The Bratva's Captive

I was, of course, familiar with that line of business. The Ivanov Syndicate had more lucrative means of revenue, though, and we never focused on selling women. We’d never had to.

As she described more about her incident, including how she’d forced herself to throw up so Lenny couldn’t force her into the van, more things clicked into place. With her continued report,I became more convinced that the Romanos and Kozlovs were involved in the dancers’ going missing. Even though she seemed convinced that the men hadn’t been speaking in Russian, I knew that they diversified with their soldiers.

Trafficking was an expected business venture within criminal networks, so it didn’t surprise me to hear her talk about it. While this news wasn’t that new and it wouldn’t benefit me in terms of my temporary leadership of the Ivanov family, it was information and intel that I would keep in the back of my mind.

There wasn’t any point to trying to butt in and compete if this was a Romano or Kozlov operation, but should I ever need to identify a way to strike at them or foil their plans, this was handy intel to have and hold on to.

Any nugget of information that I could use against our enemies mattered, and I was glad that she wasn’t clamming up about this topic.

When I asked for more details about what she knew of the Mafia men and other criminal players who came to the specific club she danced at, she didn’t hold out on me.

“After that night I, um, met you,” she said after she finished the food, “I asked around about you.”

I hid a smile at her curiosity, not wanting to give away how much her interest in me thrilled me. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Because. I don’t ever sleep with men at the club.”

From how tight she was and how quickly she’d come, I had a hunch she hadn’t been sleeping with anyone for a while, at the club or not.

“I don’t look for extras like that.” She didn’t cower, maintaining a level stare on me that bordered near antagonism.

“After I did that time, with you…” She cleared her throat, making me wonder if she was trying to cover up something else. She was open to report about the men she saw at the club and what she knew of the trafficking, but I wasn’t going to believe for one second that she wouldn’t try to keep other things from me. Her defensive nature was still there. Guarded and wary, that was how she acted even after I’d fed her and given her water.

“I asked around about who you were and the other dancers said you were with the Ivanov family.”

I nodded. “I am.” That was all I’d offer about myself. I wanted to know more abouther.

“How did you know my name?” she asked.

“I had one of my men look into you.” Glad that she’d given me an opening into asking about her, I added, “but that was all he had for me.”

She pursed her lips, taking a sterner stance with me. It seemed that she was a fellow believer in the concept of knowledge being power, and she wanted to reclaim hers and go quiet and prevent me from having the power of knowing anything else about her.

“Where are you from, Sloane?” Fuck, I loved saying her name. It made this more intimate, more personal, when she was trying so hard to maintain distance from me.

She didn’t say anything.

“You don’t want to tell me about yourself?” I pressed.

She turned, not even looking at me.

“Nothing?” I laughed once, darkly, almost counting on her to play hardball like this.

Too bad for her, she had no chance of winning.

“You will answer me, Sloane.” I stood, ready to leave. “Not now, not today, but make no mistake, you will answer me.”

She licked her lips, facing me with such an enraged scowl that I wanted to fuck that anger right out of her. Seeing her so alive, so hotheaded and sassy, only made me lust for her more.

“I will never roll over and obey you,” she declared.

I smiled, raking my gaze over her. She would. And I couldn’t wait to prove it.

“I won’t be an obedient thing for you, Maxim.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets just to further prevent myself from reaching out to her and challenging her to rethink her stance.

“I don’t care if you’re a Mafia boss or a killer or a…” She furrowed her brow, seeming to run out of steam. “It doesn’t matter who you are. You won’t get me to obey and do as you say.”

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