Page 6 of Cruel Russian Pakhan
And now this stranger with his stupid perfect face and devil’s eyes had stolen it from me.
There was no way I had gotten this far to go down without a fight. They didn't call me ‘Hellcat Katya' for nothing in foster care.
He chose the wrong woman to kidnap today. And I was going to make him suffer for it.
With that, I launched myself at him like a woman scorned, dragging all of hell’s fury in my wake.
Chapter 3 - Lev
I barely had the van doors shut before Vera lunged at me, teeth bared and fists flying.
What the fuck?
I caught her hands mid-air and, with one swift motion, had her seated on the bench beside me, her arms pinned tightly to her sides, my arms locked around her waist, chest pressed firmly to her back.
“Let me go, you pervert!” she hissed, squirming, trying to nail me in the shin with the heel of her shoe.
But I didn’t budge. If anything, my grip tightened, locking her tighter against me.
This wasn’t what I expected. Not even close.
After I got the call from Timur that morning, Rocco and I had been combing the streets for any sign of my missing fiancé. When I spotted Vera slipping out of a piece of shit apartment building, I almost couldn’t believe my luck. I called Timur immediately. Once he had tapped into the nearest surveillance cameras and caught her on video, I told him to call in the van and hung up. I dialed Father Gordon next. After she went ghost, her suddenly materializing in the middle of the street felt like fate handing me a loaded gun.
I had to hand it to Artyom, though—he’d stashed her in the poorest part of town, not some high-end, classy hotel. Smart. No one would think to look for a Bratva princess in a rundown neighborhood.
Even her disguise was clever. She blended in with the crowd in her ill-fitting pantsuit that looked like she picked it up at a secondhand store. A knock-off handbag, shoes that had seenbetter days, and the perfume…cheap. Not the kind of scent a Bratva princess would wear.
Artyom tried hiding her in plain sight, praying she’d stay undetected.
But…
It still didn't explain her attitude. Her first instinct after being in the van wasn't to beg for mercy or plead for my forgiveness.
It was to attack me.
Lev Safin, leader of my Bratva faction.
Had she lost her damn mind?
She tried to aim straight for my eyes like a wild animal. She wasn't afraid of who I was or the consequences of her behavior. It was as if someone flicked on a switch in her brain that activated her fight mode.
I doubted that Artyom accepted such behavior from her. A manipulative tyrant like him would've probably reminded her who was in charge, with his fists if necessary. Which meant either he didn’t know who she really was, or she’d been lying to everyone her entire life.
I lowered my head until my lips were a breath away from her ear.
"That’s no way to speak to your future husband, Vera," I whispered dangerously, each word laced with a threat.
She inhaled sharply then I felt her shudder beneath my hold.
Then she shoved harder, twisting in my grasp. “I don’t know who the hell you think I am, but my name’s not Vera! It's Katya!”
“Don’t insult me,” I growled.
“I’m not whoever this Vera person is,” she snapped. “You’ve made a mistake.”
First, Vera went missing. Now she was pretending not to know who I am? Were the Rykovs determined to make a fool out of me? And did they think I'd just sit down and take it?
Fine. Well, two could play at that game.
