Page 18 of The Bratva's Forced Kidnapped Bride
“It’s a long flight,” I said. “And it’s not like I’m going to make it to our first anniversary, so why not fill me in?”
He made a face and shook his head, but didn’t dispute that my days were numbered. Very slowly, he began to tell me about his brother, his father, and his uncles. After only about ten minutes, I was more grateful than ever for my own family. We might have had some kooks back in Moscow, and my cousins could be overbearing, but it was nothing compared to Anatoli’s clan.
“Wait, why didn’t you stay after your father died?” I asked, interrupting when he got to the part about why they were estranged.
“My father didn’t just die,” he said. “I believe he was killed.”
He’d already told me that his father had told his uncle that he was to be placed in charge in the far future when his father eventually died. Now that he let me know his perfectly healthy dad had a sudden heart attack right after that, I agreed it was as suspicious as hell.
“You should have fought,” I said.
“You’ll get along fine with my Uncle Miron,” he said with a twist of his lips. “But let me tell you about my brother and my eldest uncle, Leonid. Before my father’s death, I stepped upbecause I had to, when Kon was running sloppy gambling rings and being needlessly risky. That was why my father decided to go against tradition and choose his younger son. But in Leonid’s eyes, Konstantin could do no wrong, and many of my other relatives felt the same. Konstantin acted fast, and my father was barely in his grave when he’d turned the organization completely upside down. At that point, I didn’t feel there was anything to fight for.”
“But what about Miron? He knew the truth.”
“He’d been profiting greatly by Konstantin’s schemes, and because I was going to college at that time, and so caught up in getting my own businesses off the ground, he used that to make the others believe I wasn’t dedicated. I wanted to update everything, change too many things too fast. We were so hopelessly out of date. And I was the younger son. I didn’t grow up believing I’d ever be at the helm, and Miron used that too, thinking the accident of my birth order automatically made me incapable.”
I prickled at hearing that. It wasn’t the same, but I could relate. Because I’d been born a girl, I still got coddled way too much, still got put at the back where it would be safer. I’d proven myself so many times, and there was still a flash of hesitance in my cousins’ eyes when I volunteered for something. How many asses did I have to keep kicking for them to see I could hang with the boys?
I found myself blurting some of this out. I immediately wished I could take it back, feeling much too vulnerable as Anatoli swept his gaze over my face. His eyes burned almost silver as he took in the frustration I tried to hide.
“Oh, you can hang,” he said, blinking slowly. “Anyone who underestimates you is a fool.”
What was this shocking thing coming out of his mouth that sounded like a compliment? But it was tinged with bitterness, because of course, he’d learned about my capabilities the hard way. That was the last thing I wanted him to think about, while being closed up in this small space with him and having nowhere to run.
“And now your uncles are crying for the second son to come home and save their sorry butts,” I said. It was only how I felt, but I wondered if I went too far in insulting his family that way when he stayed silent for a long moment.
Then he burst out laughing. “That’s pretty much it,” he agreed. “Except now I’m the only son. I suppose I should be glad my cousins are too lazy to try to stage a coup.”
He got up and brought a bottle of wine to our seats, looking at me inquisitively before he started turning the corkscrew. The way he held it loosely in his hand, at the same time his eyes lowered to my mouth, made me feel like a good deal of the recycled air had suddenly left the plane. I was no longer tied to the chair, at his mercy, but I suddenly felt just as helpless. He could so easily use that corkscrew to cause me pain, but it didn’t seem to cross his mind. Based on his look, something else completely was on his mind.
It felt more dangerous than when he was snapping those electrically charged clamps in my face. There was definitely something sparking between us.
I nodded, reaching for the offered glass of rich red wine and gulping it down a bit too fast. Just one glance at my mouth and he had me shivering like a schoolgirl. I had to bring things down a notch.
“Tell me about Volgograd,” I said, admitting I had never been there.
Pretty soon, we were laughing again, aided by the good wine. I had started this conversation trying to gain useful information, but now, as he described his childhood haunts, I felt my guard coming down. Almost like I was enjoying his company.
That was as dangerous as any of his implements of torture.
Chapter 14 - Anatoli
The last thing I expected was for Masha to patch up my arm, but after Dimitry made such a mess of it, I had to admit it felt a lot better. She wasn’t just using it as an opportunity to stick a needle in me, and I was begrudgingly grateful. I also didn’t expect her to do a single thing else for me after that, which was why I had to pull out the big guns, or rather, the hidden bombs.
Did she believe me? Didn’t matter. If I knew anything about my tempting little torturer, it was that she’d never risk her family. Despite holding their fates over her head, she was shockingly cheerful on the plane on the way to Russia, and we talked the entire way. It was odd seeing her as someone other than an enemy, though I was under no illusion that she was anything but that. She was just… surprisingly human. I learned things about her I never would have guessed in a million years.
For instance, she sometimes had self-doubts. Maybe it was cracking open the second bottle of wine that made her admit it, but it was clear it was the truth by the way she turned bright red and obviously wished she could take it back the moment the words were out. And what was it that made me admit things I’d never told anyone else before? It wasn’t the wine, because I held back, not about to let my guard down around her.
For a brief moment on the plane, I got a glimpse of what it might be like to actually be married to someone I cared about and who cared about me in return. It was only an illusion, however, or perhaps even one of her clever ruses.
As soon as we touched down on Russian soil, she was as intractable as ever, fearless and stubborn even with my threats hanging over her head. “Holy cow, how is this Russia?” she saidwhen I guided her under my watchful eye from the plane to the waiting car.
Sweat beaded on her brow, and she gathered her thick dark hair into a ponytail, tying it in place to keep it off her neck in the early fall heat.
“We’re quite a bit further south than people who grew up in Moscow are used to. This is nothing compared to summer. Winters are still harsh as hell, though.”
She kept her attention on everything we passed and anyone else I would have thought was just trying to see the sights of a new city, but there wasn’t much of interest to see in Volgograd. She was Masha, after all, probably looking for potential escape routes.
