Page 35 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
If she knew the truth about the Bratva, about her brothers’ involvement, she’d be in even more danger if someone caught her. It’s not just about her innocence. I think back to when I got her and how prepared I was to break her spirit until she gave me answers about their whereabouts. If she hadn’t been innocent, I would have known.
Her innocence saved her, but how long before she finds herself in another situation like this?. There’s only one way that it ends: she’ll reveal secrets she shouldn’t, and she’ll die for it.
The moment anyone realized she knew, she’d become a liability. But keeping her in the dark is its own kind of cruelty.
By the time we land in New York, I’ve made my decision. I’m not telling her anything, and when she pesters me on the ride back, I stand firm. I stop making excuses. I tell her she knows all there is to know.
She sulks the entire journey home.
We enter the house in silence, and I’m prepared for her to walk to her room, but the moment we walk into the foyer, my heart drops to my stomach when I notice all my brothers milling about, waiting.
“Agafon?” I ask hoarsely. Instinctively, I place a protective hand on Arina’s lower back. Agafon turns to me and, behind him, I see my other brothers go various shades of red and pale in anger and shock.
“Ilariy?” he hisses, his eyes turning to Arina. They widen, and he steps forward angrily as he speaks coldly. “What the hell are you doing with Arina Sokolov?”
“Arina Sokolov?” my youngest brother, Rurik, speaks, checking with the rest for confirmation. When Nikandr gives him a nod, Rurik mutters, “Bloody hell.”
Arina shuffles her feet, visibly uncomfortable. I know she knows who they are because she scans the crowd and does a little count of how many there are. Just last night, I told her I had six brothers. Now, six men are standing in my foyer.
Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.
“Don’t just stand there mute!” Bogdan bellows. “You’ve been keeping company with Arina Sokolov, and you haven’t told us? The Bratva alliance won’t be happy about this.”
I wince as Arina gasps for air. She turns to me, wide-eyed. “What are they talking about, Ilariy?” she asks. “How do they know my name?”
“How do we know your name?” Faddey laughs. “Don’t act innocent. Our family and yours have been enemies for years.”
“We’ve been hunting your brothers down, surely, you must know that,” Agafon asks her directly.
She nods, and when she speaks, it’s almost a whisper. “I know our family owes yours some money, and I’m trying to—”
“Owe us money? You think we need your money?” Melor laughs. “Sweetheart, your family has three powerful Bratva organizations chasing them because they thought they could bring them down. The fact that they call themselves Bratva is a joke!”
“Ilariy…” Her voice trembles, “What the hell are they talking about? Y…You’re Bratva? Like…the mafia?”
I don’t know how to answer. I see the fear in her eyes. The horror. The shock.
Agafon steps forward. “Brother, just tell us what’s going on.”
I turn to face them, unable to face Arina. “Arina Sokolov is married to me. And until now, brothers, she had no idea we were the Bratva. So now, if you’d excuse me, can you please stop adding fuel to the fire?”
The entire room falls silent.
Chapter 10 - Arina
The air in my lungs feels like cement, refusing to move, and I’ve never felt panic like this. Ilariy’s brothers stare at him in shock after his declaration that I’m his wife, but I can’t bring myself to care about whatever trouble he’s in.
I can’t stop thinking about what they just said. Ilariy and his family… they’re Bratva? Ilariy mentioned the word once when we were getting married. He claimed my brothers were Bratva, and I’d laughed it off.
I still won’t believe that. In fact, now I can’t. Why the hell would I trust a man who kidnapped me? Suddenly, everything falls into place.
I’ve been married to a mobster for weeks and didn’t even know it. Didn’t even consider it when we had men on our heels, when I got nearly taken off the street in Cancun. My body feels hollowed out, like someone has scooped away everything I thought I knew and left nothing but questions.
“That’s impossible,” I finally manage to say. “My brothers run restaurants. And you,” I say, turning to Ilariy, hoping he’ll put a stop to this madness and tell me his brothers have a bad sense of humor. “What are your brothers saying? That you’re some crime family? Please, Ilariy…”
I beg him to make this go away. His jaw locks into place, and I see the pain flicker in his eyes. I gasp and step back, shaking my head. “No! Please, no!”
“You had no idea?” Agafon now addresses me in a gentle tone. “Truly?”
