An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva (Zolotov Bratva #10)

Chapter 8 - Sofia

My heels click sharply against the hardwood floor as I walk into the living room, confusion pulsing through me. I hurl my purse onto the leather couch, letting out a frustrated growl. How could this night have gone so terribly wrong?

I sit and survey the room, and my mind struggles to make sense of it all. The club, the drinks, that man…it was supposed to be simple.

The sound of ice cubes clinking pulls me back to the present. Vlad stands at the bar cart, face etched in grim determination as he pours two glasses of whiskey. His movements are slow, deliberate, and controlled—the complete opposite of my spinning emotions.

He picks up the glasses, eyes burning into mine. "We need to talk." His voice is firm but not harsh.

I cross my arms, lips pressed in a thin line. What could I possibly have to say? But I know there's no avoiding this conversation. Not when Vlad looks at me with such intensity.

The events of the evening play on repeat in my head. It’s not just that I got caught. I watch Vlad as he walks up to me.

He holds out a glass. "Drink. It will help steady your nerves."

I hesitate, then take it, his skin grazing against my palm. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of what just happened between us. My lips still tingle from when he kissed me, and every time he looks at me, I’m reminded of how he sent shivers down my spine, how he made me want more, how he turned me on.

But as much as I crave his touch, I can't let myself succumb to it. I’ve never been in this situation before, where my body betrays my mind, and Vlad kissing me turned all my plans upside down. I lost control. The longer I’m near him, the more I fear I might lose even more.

I push these thoughts away, instead focusing on steadying my breathing. I can't give him the satisfaction of seeing how rattled I am, of seeing the effect he has on me.

"Now talk. What happened tonight?" His tone is firm yet not unkind. Protective, but with an edge of frustration.

“You tell me?” I say, without thinking. “You’re the one keeping tabs on me.”

He sighs, setting his glass on the side table. "Sofia, you know it's not like that. What I saw tonight… raised concerns. If anything happens to you, I…” he trails off, not finishing the sentence.

There’s a momentary pause, and I feel every fiber of my being throb. He’d what? Why does he care about what happens to me? Is it that he fears my brothers? But the way he looks at me, so worried sick, tells me it’s something more, and that’s a territory of conversation I’m not quite prepared for yet. Not when my traitorous heart is trying to explain to my head what the hell went down when he kissed me the way he did?

I take a sip, letting the burn ground me. I know there's no avoiding this conversation because he’s been asking the same questions over and over again. And now, I know that he’ll be keeping tabs on me. If I don’t come out with the truth myself, he’ll find the answers one way or another. And the consequences may be far more dire when that happens.

“I just needed to do something, alright?” I say, at last. I know it’s not enough, but it’s a start.

“You needed to do something?” He raises an eyebrow incredulously. “Damn it, Sofia! I saw how he looked at you, how he touched you. What were you thinking getting involved with him?”

His protective tone grates on my nerves, but there's an edge to his voice I can't ignore. Is that… jealousy? I push the thought away.

"I was thinking that I'm a grown woman who can make her own decisions," I retort, my green eyes flashing defiantly. "Or did you forget that when you agreed to this arranged marriage?"

Vlad's jaw tightens, and I can see him struggling to keep his composure. "This isn't about our arrangement. This is about your safety, about our families' safety. You can't just—”

"Can't just what?" I interrupt, my voice sharp. "Live my life? Make my own choices? News flash, Vlad—you don't own me."

The tension between us crackles, electric and dangerous. I know I'm pushing him, but I can't back down now. Not when I had already stoked the fire.

“True. I don’t own you. But I did marry you, and whatever it is you’re up to, can come to bite me in the ass. So I deserve to know what trouble you’ve brought into our lives.”

I sigh and bring my head to my hand, rubbing my forehead. There’s no pushing this away. The truth has to come out.

"Fine. You want to know? I'm on a mission," I look up, my voice steady despite the vulnerability I feel. "That man you saw me with? He’s connected to a gangster group called the Crimson Crew. I'm gathering intel on their operations."

Vlad's eyes widen, shock evident on his face. "What? Sofia, are you insane? Do you have any idea how dangerous—”

"Of course I know," I cut him off, my tone icy. "I'm not some foolish child playing spy games.”

Vlad’s brows furrow, trying to understand.

"I've been planning this for months," I say, pacing the room. "Every interaction, every 'accidental' meeting—it's all been calculated. I'm close to uncovering something big, something that could change everything for us."

Vlad leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "How the hell did you get embroiled in this?”

“I was at a bar a few months ago. It was quiet. I overheard some guys talking about bringing down the Orlovs, and when people talk like that, there’s only one family they can mean.”

“Yours.” He nods decidedly.

“Mine,” I whisper. “I pretended to be someone else, cozied up to them. Over the past few months, I figured they want to bring down my brothers. They steal shipments, and they blow up warehouses. Sometimes, I convince them otherwise. Sometimes, they keep me in the dark. But it’s only when I seem interested, play around, party a little, that they open up to me.”

Vlad listens intently, his gaze never leaving my face. I can see the storm of emotions swirling in his eyes—concern, anger, disbelief. But there's something else there, too—a glimmer of respect shining through the tumult.

“So you’re saying you infiltrated the Crimson Crew all on your own?” Vlad’s voice is laced with both admiration and dismay.

“Something like that,” I shrug. “And that’s why the man tonight couldn’t see me with you. He might recognize you. To him, I’m just Kira.”

“Bloody hell.” Vladimir’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “And you never went to your brothers with this information?”

“I couldn’t,” she shrugs. “They’d wage war. And wars in our world can kill. I just thought I’d make this problem go away in a level-headed manner.”

Vladimir contemplates my strategy. “And what exactly do you hope to achieve with this… mission of yours?"

I meet his gaze head-on. "Leverage, Vlad. The kind that ensures our families' safety and prosperity for generations to come."

He runs a hand through his hair, conflict evident in his eyes. "Christ, Sofia. You're playing a dangerous game here. If they find out—"

"They won't," I interject, my voice firm. "I know what I'm doing. Besides, this isn’t just about me,” I hold Vlad’s gaze, chin tilted up defiantly. It's about securing a future where our families don't have to constantly watch their backs."

Vlad's jaw clenches, his eyes searching mine. "And you think you can pull this off alone? Sofia, do you have any idea how dangerous this whole thing is?"

"I'm not naive, Vlad," I snap, my voice icy. "I've grown up in this world, same as you. I know the risks."

He stands abruptly, pacing the length of the room. I watch him, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides. My heart races. I've laid all my cards on the table, and now everything hinges on his reaction.

"It's insane," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "Absolutely fucking insane."

I remain silent, letting him process. After what feels like an eternity, he turns back to me, his expression a mix of frustration and grudging admiration.

"You're either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish," he says, shaking his head. "Maybe both."

I can't help the small smirk that tugs at my lips. "I prefer to think of it as strategic."

Vlad's eyes narrow, and he takes a step toward me. "Strategic or not, it's too dangerous. I can't let you do this." His voice drops, low and menacing. "I'll tell your brothers if I have to, Sofia. They need to know what you're risking."

My heart lurches, but I keep my face impassive. I've anticipated this, prepared for it. I meet his gaze unflinchingly, my voice steady as I counter, "And what do you think that will accomplish, Vlad? Besides them thinking you’re not capable of handling your wife’s affairs? That you don’t wish to take care of me?"

I stand now, walking up to him, closing the distance between us. "Think about it. If you tell them, they'll try to stop me. They'll interfere, and that will only draw more attention to our families. If they get in trouble, so could the Zolotovs, given our alliance. More risk, more danger. And don’t forget, they’ll wonder what the hell you were doing all this time to let me get into this situation. They’ll stop trusting you and our marriage.”

I pause, letting my words sink in. Then, with a calmness that surprises even me, I propose, "I have a better solution. A deal, if you will." I tilt my head, a hint of challenge in my eyes. "You keep my secret, and I ensure the safety of both our families. No one else needs to know; no one else needs to be put at risk. I’ll come to you if there’s any sign of serious trouble, and in exchange…" I add, “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything?” he asks incredulously.

“Anything,” I say firmly. “I’ll owe you.”

Vlad's eyebrows shoot up, disbelief etched across his features. "You can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious," I reply, my resolve unwavering. "This way, we control the situation and protect everyone we care about."

Vlad pauses, his dark eyes searching mine. I can almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the risks against the potential rewards. The silence stretches between us, taut as a wire.

“I don’t know, Sof,” he says, at last, looking at me with haunted eyes. “I simply don’t know.”

And then, to my horror, he sighs and walks out without saying another word, rendering what I thought was my compelling argument to the graveyard.