Page 12 of Bought & Bred By the Bratva

I’m on him before he finishes, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the wall. “You thought you could put your hands on her and get away?” I growl, my grip tightening until he’s choking.

He claws at my hand, panic in his eyes. “P-Please, Mr. Maksimov—”

I yank him forward, then slam him back into the wall. His head cracks against the plaster. “You fucking touched what’s mine.” My voice drops to a cold whisper. “You’re gonna pay for every fucking mark you left on her.”

I pull my knife from my pocket; the blade glinting in the dim light. I press it against his throat, feeling the pulse under my hand as his panic spikes. “You threatened my fucking family.”

He whimpers, shaking, his eyes pleading. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Maksimov, please, I’ll leave town, I’ll—”

I dig the blade into his cheek, slow and deliberate, feeling the flesh give way. His scream fills the room, and blood runs downhis face. “You think you get to fucking walk away?” I snarl, my grip tightening.

I drag the knife down his face, cutting deep. His blood flows, staining my hand, and his screams echo through the room, but I don’t stop. I twist the blade, watching as he writhes. His face twisted in agony. But it’s not enough—nowhere near fucking enough.

“You hurt my woman.” I growl, leaning even closer.

I pull the knife out, wiping it on his shirt, then switch to my gun. I shoot him in the knee, and his scream turns into a howl as he drops to the floor. He’s sobbing, begging for his life.

I crouch next to him, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head up so he’s forced to look at me. I lift the gun again, aiming it at his head. “Stupid motherfucker.”

He barely manages a sob before I pull the trigger. The shot echoes in the small room, and his body slumps, lifeless. I stand, my hands covered in blood, and glance at Andrey, who nods.

The rage finally starts to fade. Sierra’s safe. The piece of shit threatening her is fucking gone.

* * *

SIERRA

I know I should be scared. Hell, part of meisscared. But it’s like every time I think about the way he touched me, my body instinctively reacts. My nipples harden, the heat between my legs won’t quit. I keep telling myself this isn’t right, that I shouldn’t be feeling like this. For a man like him. A mob boss.And my ex’s dad. A dangerous man. Old enough to be my father. A man so bad that he was at an auction, ready to buy a human being. But what I’m feeling for him is too strong.

He decided I’m his, no questions asked. And instead of backing away, all I feel is a burning ache for his body, his presence. My heart’s racing, my skin tingling. I know I should freak out, but I don’t.

I try to calm my breathing, but it’s hard when every inch of me’s still buzzing. I’ve never felt like this—like my body’s running the show, and my brain’s just along for the ride. But I know I should keep my guard up. Even when I think about the way he looked at me, all hungry and intense. I feel my resolve slip a little more.

I know who Aleksander is. What he’s capable of. I’ve heard the stories, and I should be terrified. But when he’s close, when he’s looking at me like that, all my will melts under the fire of my need for him. It’s like he’s got me under a fucking spell, and I don’t know how to break it—or if I even want to.

I run my hand over my face, trying to steady myself. But the ache is still there, deep and pulsing. This thing between us isn’t going anywhere. It’s only getting stronger, and I’m just as caught up in it as he is.

Chapter 8

SIERRA

I’m pacing the room, feeling trapped and restless. It’s too quiet, too damn big, and the longer he’s gone, the more the walls feel like they’re closing in. Every time I hear a noise, my heart jumps, and I find myself staring at the door, hoping it’ll open.

And then it does.

Aleksander steps in, and the second I see him, a wave of relief washes over me. But it’s quickly replaced by dread. My heart kicks up again when I see the blood—smeared on his hands, staining his shirt. He’s back with me.

His blazing eyes lock on mine. There’s this intensity there—dark and hungry, like he’s ready to claim me all over again. He doesn’t say a word, and I don’t ask. We both know what went down, and I don’t need to hear it. The silence says enough.

He crosses the room in two quick strides and pulls me against him. His hands are hot, sticky with blood, and it smears across my skin. I shiver, but it’s not from fear. It’s from the way he looks at me, like he’s about to fucking devour me.

“So fucking beautiful,” he mutters, voice rough and low. “With the blood of that piece of shit all over your perfect tits.”

The words send a shiver through me, and when his mouth crashes down on mine, I kiss him back, hard. His hands are everywhere, and I can feel the blood marking me, staining me. I want it. I want all of it. Anything he’ll give me.

He pulls back, eyes roaming over me as he yanks off the sheet I threw over my shoulders. His gaze darkens as he stares at the blood streaked on my skin, and a growl rumbles low in his chest.

His possessiveness makes my pulse race. Aleksander grabs my hips and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer. He drops me to the bed, spreading my legs wide.

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