Bratva Bride (Bratva, #1)

by T.J. Maguire

“But the choice, in the end, is yours, Illayana. Always.” I smiled up at my father. It was so rare to see that side of him—the loving, caring side—when most of my life, I’d known the tough, badass Russian mobster side. I took his hand from my shoulder and held it.

In the end, I decided to play dumb. “How long what, Father?” I whispered. He narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth like a fucking animal. “Do not play dumb with me, Illayana Rae Volkova. You know exactly what I’m talking about. How. Long?” Oh, shit, he full-named me. I’m definitely in trouble.

🤭🤭🤭

Arturo’s eyes were soft. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he whispered, leaning forward to run his fingers over the top of my hand. I shrugged. It was traumatic, for sure. I’d had nightmares afterwards. I was terrified someone was going to sneak into my room again, and I used to cry myself to sleep until Aleksandr came and slept on my bedroom floor. He promised to watch over me during the night and not let anyone hurt me. For months, he had slept on a crappy air mattress at the foot of my bed until I was better.

Stop it, the brotherly protection is too sweet 🥹

“You look beautiful, little sister,” he whispered into my hair. I leaned my head against his chest and breathed in his comforting scent. Nikolai and Lukyan moved to hug me as well, all three of them encasing me in one big bear hug. “Thank you. All of you.” I raised my head and looked at my three older brothers. There truly wasn’t a stronger family bond than the one between siblings. Brothers were a gift from the heart, friends to the spirit, and protectors of all.

Staring directly at the men on their knees, he gripped my chin with his free hand and dragged my face to his, lifting me to my tippy toes. His lips crashed into mine, his tongue licking into my mouth in a searing hot kiss—one that sent tingles straight to my clit. It was a fiercely dominating kiss, one that screamed possessiveness. Claiming. He was showing these men that I was his, and he wouldn’t let their actions go unpunished. Arturo wanted them to see, to watch the control he exerted over me, to know that he owned me. I moaned and tried to move into him, desperate to feel the hard lines of his body against me, but he kept me in place with the strong grip he had on my chin, not allowing me an inch of movement. It was like I was his puppet, only free to move if—and when—he wished it. He bit my bottom lip hard enough to sting, and I yelped in surprise. “I’m going to bend you over my knee and spank your ass for leaving the house when you knew you weren’t meant to.”

Fine, this is hot af 🥵

My father strolled in, his Kevlar vest strapped to his chest and a P-90 in his hands. Alessandro was a step behind him, sweat on his brow and blood in his hair. “Moya doch’.” He pushed his way to me and wrapped me in a tight embrace. His body shook—with fear or adrenaline, I had no idea—but when I stepped back, he hugged me tighter, not letting me go. “Otets, ya v poryadke,” Father, I’m fine, I whispered reassuringly, but he just squeezed me tighter. I sighed, letting him nearly squish me to death. Finally, he let me go, the briefest glimpse of tears in his eyes before he schooled his features and blinked them away.

Stop it, he was terified he would find her dead like her mother😫❤️‍🩹