The Fixer (Chicago Bratva #2)

by Renee Rose

She hates that her father traded her like he was selling a thoroughbred horse. She hates that he picked me, the man who humiliated her right when she was coming into her own sexuality. She especially hates that I control her purse-strings now.

I’m not so thrilled with being saddled with her, myself. But Igor won my loyalty when he saved my life and took me under his wing as a young man, and that loyalty didn’t die when he banished me.

I flick off the lamp. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Sasha.” “It’s the only one I know,” she says into the darkness.

The honesty of her answer cuts me off at the knees. Of course, it’s the only one she knows.

Sex is the only weapon she’s been taught to wield.

I kiss her shoulder. “You’re mine now,” I tell her softly. “Which means we’re on the same team. Stop fighting me.”

I just want to give her the connection she craves. Bind the two of us together with something besides bitter words and an ugly past.

“Yes, you did get saddled with me, sugar. And I got saddled with you. And we’re going to make the best of it.”

I’m acting like the spoiled mafiya princess I’ve always been. The part I detest but play with aplomb.

Women can never be trusted—they are always full of lies, deceit and tricks. Unbidden, the memory of my mother’s cruel deception replays like the horror movie I can never unsee.

Knowing he’s dangerously possessive of me shouldn’t give me flutters of excitement, but it does. Part of me loves that he showed up to claim me.

“No, Sasha. But you’re married to me now, and you have a choice. You can keep pushing and prodding me—running away and making me chase—to try to get the power from me.

you can decide you’re my equal and make your demands. Tell me what you need from me to make this work.”

She blinks at me, wide-eyed, silent for a moment. Then she says, “But I d...

Her words hit me like a cement bloc...

“You’re right,” I agree. “I don’t deserve it. Not after you offered yourself up so prettily before, and I didn’t accept.”

There. It’s out in the open. Maybe we can put this behind us once and for all.

I will figure out how to live with him without losing my heart.

With a wife this hot, I should work to get us there. I’m the fixer, after all. I can fix anything.

Even a wife who doesn’t want me.

I like him sweet. I don’t want to like it. I want to resist his charm. Because I’ve fallen for this man before, and he crushed me.

I tip her chin up to kiss her again. I want to consume her. Own her so fully she never runs from me. Make her fall in love.

Damn. That’s it, isn’t it? I want my wife to fall in love with me.

There are three things I adore about my new wife.

I love the sex. Da, that had to be first because nothing moves me like watching her surrender. Watching the walls and barriers between us crash down in a torrent of hot, brutal passion.

That she’s mine in more than body and last name.

It’s awkward to say, but once the words come out, I’m not sorry. I’m as vulnerable as my bride. And that’s what love is. Revealing your weakness. Trusting the other person with it.