Page 21 of Traded & Bred By the Bratva
Alex and Rosie’s house is a fortress. It has high walls and gates that close with a heavy electronic hum. Inside, it’s surprisingly warm, with what I assume are Rosie’s touches everywhere: soft throws, fresh flowers, photos of their recent wedding. She shows me to a guest room, chatting lightly to fill the silence, but I can barely respond.
That night, sleep won’t come. I lie in the unfamiliar bed, replaying every moment with Max. The way he’d come home and devour me, tender at first, then dominant, fucking me like he needed me to breathe. “This pussy is mine,” he’d growl, thrusting deep while I moaned beneath him.
Was that real, or was he pretending?
The way my body responded to his possessiveness was real.
The next morning, I’m tired, blurry-eyed, and desperation claws at me. I need to see Ben.
I haven’t missed a day at the hospital since the accident.
I find Alex in the kitchen, nursing a coffee.
“I need to see my brother,” I say without preamble. “At the hospital. Today.”
Alex sets the mug down, eyes hard. “Not happening. Max said no unnecessary risks.”
“My brother is in a medical coma and the doctors have eased up on the drugs. He might wake up any minute, or he might never wake up. I’m not abandoning him because your brother decided he was done playing house with me and tossed me aside.” My voice cracks, but I hold his gaze. “Please.”
Tension ripples across his shoulders. After a long silence, he sighs. “Fine. But you go with me and two of my men. No arguments. You speak to no one else.”
Relief floods me, mixed with fresh dread.
The drive to the hospital is suffocating. Alex sits beside me in the back, two enforcers in the front. They move like trained killers,alert, scanning every car, every pedestrian. At the hospital, they flank me like a protective cage as we head to the fourth floor.
Room 417 feels smaller with them crowding the doorway. I sit by Ben’s bed, taking his limp hand, and the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over.
“Hey, Ben,” I whisper, voice breaking. “I wish you could talk to me. Things are... complicated.” I hiccup and snort and the same time. “Actually, they are fucked up. So fucked up.” I tell him everything in a hushed rush. The auction, Max, the money that’s keeping the bills paid, the sudden upheaval. The machines beep steadily. He doesn’t respond, but speaking it out loud helps.
One enforcer shifts, and I catch a snippet of quiet conversation between Alex and the other man near the door. “...Volkov’s girl. I guess he’s done with her. I don’t know him. All I know is that the Pakhan ordered me to keep her safe.”
My head snaps up. Why is Alex pretending he doesn’t know his own half-brother? And if they have the same father, they should have the same last name.
Everything clicks into place with painful clarity. All the secrecy about how he spends his days. The first week, I tried to ask about his work, but he always shut me down. So, I stopped.
The danger he suddenly insisted on. The way he never asked about my life before the auction, or my reasons for entering the event. I was convenient. A distraction.
A warm body to fuck while he played whatever dangerous game he’s engaged in until he no longer needed me. Until I became a liability.
My chest aches so badly I can barely breathe. The tender dominance, the dirty talk that made me feel claimed and safe.This tight little pussy belongs to me, Sydney. Only me.
It was all part of the undercover identity. He’s not even who he said he was.
I squeeze Ben’s hand tighter. “I fucked up big time, Ben. I’m so stupid.”
Alex clears his throat from the doorway. “Time’s up. We need to move.”
I stand on shaky legs, wiping my face. As we leave the hospital in the same heavily guarded formation as we entered, the full weight of the betrayal settles over me. Max bought me, used me, and now he’s discarded me into this new world of enforcers and secrets.
I don’t know who he really is. And the worst part? Some traitorous piece of my heart still craves the man who made me feel alive in his arms. But that man doesn’t even exist.
Back at Alex’s house, I retreat to the guest room and curl up on the bed. The luxury around me feels hollow. I’ve traded one cage for another, all while my brother fights for his life and my stupid heart shatters over a man whose real name I don’t even know.
CHAPTER 8
MAX
The warehouse reeks of diesel and desperation. I stand in the shadows of the loading dock, earpiece crackling with updates from my team.
