Owned By The Bratva King (NYC Russian Royals #1)

Quinn

Being alone in life isn’t exactly fun, but I’m keeping it together. Even if I am technically homeless and sleeping above the bakery where I work.

Sure, my life is kinda shambolic. I’m shy, lonely, on the run, and I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid. But I’m fine. Really.

Then one night, he walks in, flips the sign to ‘closed’, and looks at me with those velvet eyes.

And just like that, he decides I belong to him.

Now he’s everywhere, all the time. Watching me.

I’m a nobody—a curvy, innocent wallflower, worlds apart from the gorgeous bratva monster in the blood-soaked shirt. Yet, somehow, he’s obsessed.

Roman Kazanov has me in his sights, and he won’t let me go. Does he scare me? Of course; I may be dazzled by his attention, but I’m no fool.

So why am I powerless to resist? Or is submission the greatest power of all?

Roman

There’s a damn good reason why I never let anyone get close.

My world is steeped in death and betrayal. My throne is built from bones, my hands drenched in the blood of many.

It’s all I knew. Hell, I thought it was all I wanted.

Until her.

One look at her voluptuous body and foxy hazel eyes, and I’m hooked. Imprisoned in a jail of my own making, her every word, glance, and gesture gouging scars deep into my black heart.

No one matters the way she does, and that’s why I should have left well alone.

A man like me always has more enemies than friends, and those enemies are not blind. My reputation precedes me; I worked hard to earn it. I’ll go to war to safeguard my property.

I need no one’s permission to claim her, least of all hers. And there’s no doubt about it.

Quinn belongs to me.