Page 15 of Owned & Bred by the BRATVA

She fell back to sleep when I left her.

Curled into the sheets, bare skin tangled in the linen, her breathing soft and even. She looked like something out of a dream I never wanted to wake from. Leaving her felt wrong. It clawed at something primal inside me, the part of me that wanted to keep her locked beneath my body, marked, filled, and protected. But business doesn’t pause for obsession. And as much as I want to believe I can protect her by never letting her out of my sight, I know better. To keep her safe, I have to keep my empire intact. That means blood, strategy, and control.

Roman is waiting for me at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall, phone in hand, looking too casual to be anything but calculating. He eyes me as I approach, one brow raised in silent amusement. “She good?” he asks, ending the call without looking away.

“She’s resting,” I say.

He grins, clearly reading between the lines. “That’s a yes.”

I don’t dignify that with a response. It’s none of his business. None of theirs. The only thing they need to know is that Clara is mine, and I’m not finished with her. Not even close.

Outside, the SUV is waiting. Inside are the rest of them, my brothers, in blood and in violence. Aleksei’s lounging with his boots on the dash, thumbing through a tablet like we’re not onour way to handle serious business. Mikhail is nursing black coffee, his usual scowl already in place. Nikolai’s humming something low and off-key, probably plotting the kind of mayhem only he finds amusing.

“Morning, married man,” Nikolai drawls the moment I slide into the back seat. “How’s our new sister-in-law?”

“Alive,” I reply dryly. “Smarter than all of you.”

“She’d have to be,” Mikhail mutters into his cup without looking up.

Aleksei chuckles and stretches. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that our fearless leader disappeared for twenty-four hours to break in his virgin bride?”

“Shut up,” I say, though my tone lacks any real bite.

They can joke. They can tease. They didn’t hear her sob when she came apart for me. They didn’t feel her tighten around their cock like her body was made to take nothing else. They didn’t see the look on her face when I pressed my hand to her belly afterward and whispered that I wanted her full of me. They don’t know what it means to need something so badly it turns into a sickness. They don’t knowher.

When we arrive at the warehouse, it’s already secured. Guards step aside as we pass. This isn’t a public meeting. It’s private. Quiet. The kind of meeting that only ends one of two ways: an agreement or a corpse.

Raymond Donahue is seated at the table, already sipping espresso like he has a right to be here. His posture is too casual for a man who sold his daughter. Too smug for someone standing on the edge of a grave. I don’t bother with greetings. I don’t sit. I keep my eyes on him as I approach the table.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say coldly.

He offers a smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. “Just a conversation, Maksim. You and me. A bit of negotiation between old friends.”

“We’re not friends.”

He leans back in his chair, as if that makes him less pathetic. “Then call it family. After all, I gave you my daughter.”

My hands curl into fists at my sides. “You sold her. I paid.”

He flinches, but only for a second. “She’s not a commodity.”

“You treated her like one,” I snap. “I treat her like a wife. That’s the difference.”

Behind me, I hear Roman shift, and I know Nikolai’s already stepped a little closer. The air changes. Heavy. Coiled.

Raymond doesn’t have the sense to back down. “I need more,” he says, like this is a fucking negotiation. “Things didn’t go the way I planned. I’ve got debts. Bigger than I expected. You and I, we can make this work. I keep quiet. You keep Clara happy. Everybody wins.”

The rage that rises in me is instant and absolute. My vision tunnels. He dares to speak her name. To suggest she’s leverage again. Like he can dangle her in front of me, when she’s already wrapped in my sheets with my cum still leaking from her cunt.

I step forward slowly, lean across the table, my hands flat on the surface. I let him see it. The thing he’s just unleashed. The part of me that doesn’t negotiate. The part thatdestroys.

“You’ll never speak her name again,” I say, my voice low and deadly. “Not to me. Not to anyone.”

He opens his mouth, but I don’t give him the chance to speak. “You come near her, I’ll cut out your tongue and bury you face-down beside the last man who looked at her too long.”

Silence blankets the room.

Raymond swallows. I see it. See the second he realizes he’s gone too far. That I’m not bluffing. That there’s no more leverage here. Only his life, and how close he is to losing it.

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