Page 54 of Owned Bratva Bride
Recollections of the fury on Eduard’s face as he came looking for me visited me as I sat up. I could still see the blood and bodies of the fallen men over his shoulder as we left the garden.
How could Lucien send his men after me?
The guy who almost stabbed me had said I knew too much.
Of course, Lucien had told me things about his business. Things I hadn’t asked him to explain to me, in the first place. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him about what he did at all.
But I had promised not to reveal his stuff to anyone else.
I had thought he trusted and liked me enough to tell me all he did. I had told myself I meant something to him because of the way he looked at me.
I’m nothing more than a risk to him now.
My heart dropped.
He would have had his men kill me if Eduard hadn’t protected me.
Eduard.
Getting out of bed, I threw on a T-shirt and joggers.
I had no idea what to say when I did, but what I did know was that I wanted to see him.
He was in the study.
He leaned against one of the low tables at the far end of the room. He looked nothing like a man who had just fought a battle; he was too…normal.
The sleeves of his stained white shirt were rolled up. I wondered if the dried blood on his collar was his or someone else’s.
Our eyes locked, but neither of us spoke. The unsettling silence stretched for a few seconds before I eventually ventured into the room.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cool.
“Yes,” I breathed, folding my arms as I got close to him. “Lucien’s men?”
He gave a single nod.
I perched on a desk to his right. “I know why.”
“What are you talking about?” he inquired, turning partially to face me.
“He told me things. Many things about his…business.”
He didn’t look surprised.
“He told me about his money laundering businesses. He owns a club in Chicago that he uses to launder his money. But the one in Baja is the biggest; he doesn’t just launder his money; he does it for other rich people, politicians, and socialites. He runs a blackmail ring, too. That event where you took me was also for some blackmailing business.”
“He told you all this? You said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“He wasn’t,” I insisted, unable to keep the disgust out of my voice.
“It’s a wonder that he gave you so many details about his business.”
“That’s not all. When you mentioned that you were the Bratva, it rang a bell.”
“You spoke like it was a name you had never heard before,” he pointed out, raising a brow.
“I was angry. Wanted you to feel unimportant,” I confessed.
