Chapter 5 Andrei
ANDREI
I’ve heard a lot of insane shit in my years as a bratva loyalist, but we are usually protective of our own kin. Selling a rival’s daughter is one thing. Selling your own? That’s cold. That’s fucking harsh.
No wonder Nina ran.
But I don’t believe he’ll kill her. She has to go back.
I can’t keep her no matter how much I want to.
Kidnapping isn’t exactly unheard-of, but it almost always sparks a war.
By returning his daughter unharmed, Melor will owe me a favor.
The plan is coming together quickly in my mind.
I will demand a chance to bid on Nina at tonight’s auction.
He can’t harm her too badly if he intends to sell her tonight.
I have time to gather the money I need to win her. Rafail will front me the cash if it means finding a solution to our feuding factions and saving Rafail from further intra-faction bloodshed.
He doesn’t know how badly I want Nina Kotov, though.
The way I was chasing Nina was dangerous. This isn’t how I wanted us to begin. It was inevitable, probably. I am not a kind or good man. I never have been. But there’s no denying this is a bad start.
She should know who she’s dealing with. One way or another, I will have Nina as my wife and the mother of my children. Everything I ever wanted is within my grasp—the woman, the power I craved, the recognition I always wanted.
We ride silently in the car. I want to reach across the console and touch her. I’m tempted to drag her across my lap and fuck her here in my car.
But then I think about Rafail and Hailey and their daughter.
What an intra-faction war could do to them.
I have to secure Nina the bratva way. Act like I respect her father enough to play by his rules.
Despite spending years observing her from afar, I assumed—wrongly—that her father kept a close guard over his only daughter out of a protective instinct.
After all, most bratva would consider her powerful leverage.
But if I believe half of what she told me, it’s because he considers her his property, like a dog. Obey, or be punished.
Evening has fallen over the city of Baltimore as I drive a nondescript dark-colored sedan with a silent passenger through the streets. Slow. Steady. Unnoticed. No sudden moves that would attract the attention of the police.
At the house, Nina slams out of the sedan without looking at me. Melor glares at his daughter when I march her into the grand Victorian mansion like a naughty puppy that slipped a leash.
“If you think I will buy you another car, Nina, you are dead wrong,” he mutters to her in Russian.
Nina grips her purse tightly and pretends not to hear him.
Melor shoves his short, stocky body between me and his daughter, preventing me from following her inside the house.
I’m left standing on the steps to negotiate.
“I hear there is an auction tonight,” I begin, dragging my gaze away from Nina’s retreating back.
“Postponed thanks to my rebellious daughter.”
“But it will happen, thanks to me. I have returned her to you in a gesture of peace. I want in.”
“A Volkov dog wants to bid on the Kotov princess? Can you afford her?” Melor sneers.
Hairs prickle on the back of my neck. Jesus, this man is one sick fuck. He doesn’t even pretend he’s not selling his own child. This whole house is not only lifeless—it’s haunted, as if his malevolent presence has seeped into the very floorboards and frame.
“I could buy ten of your daughters,” I tell him confidently. It isn’t as if he values women highly. “If you don’t let me join the auction, I’ll consider it a refusal of my peace offering. I will retaliate.”
“Tell your pakhan that I will never allow a Volkov mongrel to touch my daughter.” Melor shuts the door in my face.
Every instinct cries out for me to break it down and go claim my woman. Nina was right. I shouldn’t have brought her back here. My plan to neutralize Melor Kotov by forcing an alliance with his daughter blew up in my face—just as she predicted it would.
Nina
While my stalker is trying to negotiate with my snake of a father, I keep walking straight through the kitchen. I slip the back door open, clutching my precious purse, hoping that Andrei will at least provide enough of a distraction to let me escape a second time.
Vain hope.
I don’t even make it across the yard before my father’s bulls grab me and pull me back into the house. There’s no sign of Andrei. He left me to suffer the consequences of my actions alone.
“Ungrateful bitch,” Melor seethes. His fists meet my face, my ribs, my stomach. He doesn’t care that my eyes are black and my lip bleeding. He’ll sell damaged goods if he has to.
This is the end, is my last thought when he squeezes my throat with both hands, just like Mother’s.
But I’m wrong. It’s only the beginning of an ocean of pain.
When I awaken, I lay in my bed and stare at the newly installed bars on my windows.
Surely a fire hazard, but my father doesn’t care about trifling things like building codes.
The housekeeper brings me ice and over-the-counter pain medications.
I swallow past bruises that make it hard to breathe, forget eating. How much time has passed?
I don’t know what happened to my purse. All that money I carefully hoarded.
The precious ID kept up to date for years in hopes of running away from this nightmare.
Gone. All my dreams of escape, dead. Andrei had better come and claim me.
If he doesn’t, and I die, I’ll be sure to haunt his ass—forever.