Page 68 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

Evelyn didn't speak, just looked at me with tears in her eyes and nodded.

"Matvey said he'd pay for all your treatment costs. All I had to do was be his mistress for two months."

Honestly, even now I think it was too good a deal. I was just too greedy, always fantasizing about getting something beyond the transaction.

Like Matvey's feelings.

"So that woman just now is..."

"She's Matvey's ex-wife. But they're getting back together soon."

As I said this, Evelyn's face filled with heartache and worry.

"She doesn't look like someone you want to mess with." Evelyn sighed softly. "She didn't bully you, did she?"

"Don't worry. I can handle it." I patted her hand, not wanting to see her cry. "Honestly, making this deal with him was a win for me. He's even better than those movie stars."

"And right now, what I want most is for you to be healthy."

That was my only request now.

Chapter Nineteen

Riley

The late spring evening breeze hit my face, damp and heavy. I clutched my bag and walked out of the office building, head down, heading for the bus stop.

After that last warning, Veronica was back to making my work life hell. She had me cross-checking dozens of Russian documents when I didn't know a damn word of Russian. Twelve hours staring at dense Cyrillic on a screen until my eyes burned.

And Matvey stayed cold as ever. Not that I should've expected anything else. My chest ached. Just thinking about Matvey sent my emotions spinning out of control. I forced him out of my head.

Today was the last day of our deal. Tomorrow, I'd be free. No more seeing him, no more Veronica, no more of this torture. I took a deep breath and picked up my pace.

Then I heard footsteps behind me. Heavy. Fast. At first, I thought they were just other pedestrians, but something felt wrong. I glanced back and saw three massive guys closing in. Built like brick walls, their leather jackets straining over bulgingmuscles. Under the streetlights, I could make out vicious scars and dead eyes.

My pulse hammered. Something was very wrong. I spun around and walked faster, almost power-walking. The footsteps behind me sped up too, boots pounding closer.

I broke into a run.

"Stop right there, bitch!" A roar with a thick Russian accent. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

My lungs burned. My heels skidded on the pavement—I nearly went down.

"Help!" I screamed, trying to make it to the convenience store. But an arm hooked around my waist from behind.

Another hand clamped over my mouth.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Mmph—mmph—" I thrashed, legs kicking wildly in the air. I drove my elbow back into his ribs, clawed at anything I could reach.

"Stop fucking moving!" the one with Russian prison tattoos ringing his neck barked.

He was too strong. My resistance meant nothing. He dragged me toward a side alley while the other two followed. They hauled me deep into the shadows and slammed me against the wall. My back hit brick, and everything went dark for a second.

"I'm warning you. Make one more sound, and I'll shut you up permanently." His voice was pure menace.

The murder in his eyes was real. I nodded slowly.