Page 64 of Forced into a Bratva Marriage
Panting, I stepped back, watching him draw his last breath. Only then did I feel a fleeting sense of comfort. Blood dripped from my knuckles as I towered over his lifeless form, my chest still heaving.
The bastard got what he deserved.
This was supposed to be about his betrayal of the Bratva. However, it wasn’t. It was about my wife. I wasn’t entirely sure what this meant for me. Were my priorities misplaced?
I’d been with other women in the past, and far worse things had been said about them. But I’d never taken any of those statements to heart. Not even once.
Why was it different with Ellie?
I fuckin’ murdered a man because of her. And I’d do it again. Over and over.
Was I becoming obsessed or protecting what was mine?
The front door opened, and Sergei walked in, his shoes scuffing against the floor. He paused beside me and handed me a clean white handkerchief.
I accepted it and began wiping my bloodied knuckles. “Clean up this mess,” I said. “And spread the word about Igor’s treachery.”
He gave a quiet nod.
I walked away, wiping the tiny blood stains on my white shirt.
***
By the time I got home, she was the first person I wanted to see. Why? Not sure. I just wanted to set my eyes on her so badly.
A part of me was starting to enjoy her company a little more than I should.
The banter, the spontaneous sex, and the sheer pleasure of being in the same space with her always awakened strange emotions within me. I didn’t understand them. I didn’t want to either.
I told myself it was nothing serious. But deep down, I knew something was growing, something that I might not be ready for.
I made my way through the hallway, straight to her room, unsure of what to do or say when I got there. There was no plan of any sort, no purpose for me being here. Just a burning desire to see her.
The door opened with a soft creak, revealing the inside of her room. The scent of her perfume drifted through the air as I scanned the space.
“She’s not in there, sir,” a familiar voice came from behind me.
I turned around slowly.
It was Agata. She was standing across the hall.
I closed the door behind me. “Where is she?”
“In the library.”
Of course.
She didn’t wait a second longer before picking up her pace in the opposite direction.
Ellie was probably reviewing the files I gave her, which sparked my curiosity. I was certain she’d found something interesting because the files were mostly edited reports.
I headed over there without wasting a second. The door was slightly ajar when I arrived, warm light spilling across the floor. I pushed it open and stepped inside.
She was seated on the floor with her back against a shelf. Hardcover books, papers, and documents were scattered around her as she scribbled something down in a notepad.
Her hair was tied up into a messy bun with strands escaping to frame her face. The hem of her oversized sweater brushed against her thighs, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her lap.
“It’s late,” I said, walking over to her. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”
