Page 79 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
I watch, transfixed, as Ilariy steps forward to stand directly before my brothers. His back is straight, his shoulders squared, and he looks every bit like a real boss. Even from across the room, I can feel the authority radiating from him.
“We all know the measures you took to get your sister back,” he says. “And we all know what will happen if this escalates here. Is that what you want, Tikhon? Blood on the Volkovs’ floor? An all-out war with every family in this room forced to choose sides?”
Tikhon’s eyes narrow, but Ilariy continues before he can speak.
“We can resolve this another time, another place. For now, let’s not ruin our hosts’ evening.” He turns slightly, acknowledging the Volkovs with a respectful nod.
I stare, stunned by the diplomat that’s emerged from the man I know as a fierce protector. He could crush my brothers right now—they’re outnumbered, and everyone in this room knows the Letvins have the upper hand. Yet here he stands, offering peace when war would be easier.
And then it hits me, a realization so powerful it nearly knocks me back—I love him. Not just desire, not just gratitude, not some twisted Stockholm syndrome. I love Ilariy Letvin with every fiber of my being.
The revelation sweeps through me like a flood, washing away my doubts and fears. I love his strength and his kindness, his fierce loyalty and unexpected gentleness. I love how he looks at me as if I’m the only person in the room, how his touch makes me feel both safe and wild at once.
Tikhon’s shoulders relax slightly, though his expression remains hard. “This isn’t over,” he says, but he takes a step back.
“Far from it,” Ilariy agrees. “But it’s not for tonight.”
As the standoff slowly dissolves, with both sides backing away from the precipice, I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe there’s a way through this after all. Maybe we can find a path for us, for Ilariy and me, that doesn’t end in bloodshed.
But does he even want that? In the library, when he pressed me for the truth, he never once talked about his own feelings. He asked what I wanted, what had changed, but not once did he say he loved me or needed me. Was it just physical for him? Just the thrill of possessing something that belongs to his enemy?
Even as the doubt creeps in, I make my decision. I need to know. I need to stand by his side and see if there’s a future for us beyond this feud.
I step out of my hiding place, ready to cross the room to him, to face my brothers by his side, and hope for the best when a hand catches my elbow.
I turn, expecting to see someone I know, but instead find myself face to face with a man I instantly recognize—the man who followed us in Cancun.
I freak out. I begin to pull away, but his grip on me tightens.
“Miss Sokolov,” he says, his voice a flat, emotionless murmur. “You need to come with me.”
“Let go of me,” I hiss. My eyes dart toward Ilariy, but his back is to me now as he speaks quietly with his brothers.
Just then, I feel something sharp press against my side—the point of a knife. “Don’t make a sound.”
Fear spikes through me as he begins steering me toward a side exit. I open my mouth to scream, but before I can make a sound, I feel a sharp prick in my neck. Cold spreads from the injection site, and my vision immediately begins to swim.
Chapter 23 - Ilariy
I usher my brothers out of the Volkov mansion. Faddey is still furious, and I keep a strong grip on his shoulder, afraid he might go back in there and cause another scene.
I managed to settle down the tempers back there, but the more people drink, the more things escalate, and I know peace is just temporary between our families.
Everyone in our group is tense. Everyone is thinking the same thing. Arina is in there, and we’ve left her.
To me, that hurts the most, the ghost of her lips still burning against mine. There was something more hiding in her eyes, but she held out, and it stings to know she’s living with this pain just to save me.
“You should have let me at him,” Faddey mutters when I open the car door for him.
“And start a war in the middle of the Volkov’s party?” I shake my head. “That would have been suicide for all of us.”
Agafon gives me an approving nod. “Ilariy’s right. There’s a time and place.”
We drive home in silence as I stare out the window, replaying every moment with Arina in the library. God, the way she melted against me wasn’t how a woman does when she doesn’t want a man.
Her body spoke from her heart. That wasn’t the kiss of a woman who’s done with me.
When we arrive home, everyone files into the living room, and we pour ourselves some drinks. No one wanted to leave early, but we had to after that humiliating showdown with the Sokolovs.
