Bought to Bear Bratva Heir

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Daisy

The room they led us to was up the back staircase of a club that was already buzzing even though it wasn’t even midnight.

Not that midnight was early. Usually, I would have been tucked up in bed by now, exhausted by the long days I had been pulling recently.

But that plan had been scuppered when two men had appeared at my father’s door and demanded we come with them.

I’d tried to ask questions on the uncomfortable car ride across the city, but my father just told me to trust him. Like I ever had any doubts about him. He was the most steadfast man I had ever met.

If he wasn’t worried, then neither was I.

Or at least I hadn’t been until we had been led through the club and then up the stairs. Dark red peeling wallpaper seemed to close around me as I took the stairs slowly, and I was hyper-aware that the man bringing up the rear had his eyes glued on my—well, rear.

I wanted to turn around and slap the leering look straight off his face, but I couldn’t seem to do anything but place one foot in front of the other and tug my shorts down over my ass.

Ignoring all the open doors on this level, the man in front moved straight to the one at the end of the narrow corridor and knocked once, hard.

“Come in,” an even harder voice barked out, and the nerves that were fluttering in my stomach took flight.

That voice, that Russian accent. It made me feel uncomfortable.

But nothing quite made me as uncomfortable as the man who greeted us when we were ushered into the room. Icy blue eyes lifted from my father to me, and I couldn’t help but shrink back as he smiled.

Those eyes in that lined face were instantly recognizable. Dimitri Popovitch. One of the most feared men in the city. The only person with a worse reputation than him was his grandson, Ilya.

Wildly I looked around as the door slammed behind us, leaving us trapped inside the small office with the monster of New York.

Moving into my father’s side, I clung to his arm.

“Daddy, what are we doing?” My fingers scraped at my father’s shirt sleeve, but I didn’t get to say anything more as a great, booming voice cut me off.

“Thank you for coming, Peter.”

I threw a glance at my father. What was going on here? Why was my father on first-name terms with a mobster?

My dad worked in insurance. His world and this one should never collide.

“You didn’t really give me much choice,” my dad said stiffly. “I would have come as arranged. You didn’t need to—” His eyes flicked towards me and then away guiltily.

“And this,” the older man pushed himself off the windowsill, the lights of the city street illuminating his face with neon red and green for a second.

His too-blue eyes narrowed in on me. “Must be your lovely daughter. Daisy, is it?” He ignored my father’s words completely as he came to a stop right in front of me.

I lost the ability to talk. Swallowing hard, I nodded my head. “Yes, sir. Daisy, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr—” My outstretched hand was ignored completely as he walked around me.

“She is prettier than I expected. Her pictures don’t do her justice.”

Again, my head snapped around to my father, but he just looked purposefully ahead and refused to meet my eyes. Why would a man like Dimitri ever have access to my photos? None of this was making a lick of sense. “You’ve seen my photos, sir?”

The old Russian came to a stop in front of me, his cruel hands pinching my chin and yanking my head back. “I know everything about you, Daisy.” The way he said my name made me feel uncomfortable. Why did I suddenly feel like a piece of meat he was studying? Like I was something for sale.

“I know you graduated top of your class at Brown. You’re how old now?”

“Twenty-one, sir.” My voice shook.

“Hmm, I suppose that is acceptable.”

I frowned so hard that a line appeared between my eyebrows. “I—”

“Be quiet.”

My lips snapped shut.

“But I see you can follow orders. That is good. We will take her.”

I ripped my face out of his hands. I didn’t know what he meant by taking me. But it sure as hell wasn’t happening. “Dad what the hell is—”

He still refused to look at me. Head bowed, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Daisy, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”

“I like the idea that she's clever and pretty. That bodes well for the future. Are you hoping to go on to grad school?”

I faltered, my throat moving loudly as I swallowed. “One day, sir,” I mumbled. “I’ve been accepted, but grad school is expensive. I will have to work for a few years first.”

He nodded his head. “I think this could work. And just to sweeten the deal, I’ll pay for the grad school of your choice and write off your father’s debts.”

My eyes widened. “My father’s debts?”

I turned to my father. What debts? We lived a modest life. The mortgage was paid off, and neither one of us had a car. I’d been given a scholarship for school.

We didn’t have any debts.

His chuckle made ice run through my veins. “Your father owes me almost a hundred thousand.”

“Dollars?” My eyebrows shot up in shock.

“No.” The laughter left his voice like it had never been there to begin with.

The man who speared me to the rug with his eyes was dangerous.

And all that danger was aimed directly at me.

“Chickens.” He rolled his eyes. “But I think we could come to some sort of agreement. His debts cleared and his life spared and all you have to do is one little thing for my family.”

“What little thing?” He was offering me hundreds of thousands of dollars in tuition alone. And even without that, I would do anything to make sure my father was safe.

Anything.

He was my entire world, and I had a sneaking suspicion the man in front of me knew it.

“Your womb.”

“No.” Another voice broke the silence that followed, but before I could turn my head to see who had spoken, my chin was grabbed again, yanking my head around and up.

I blinked in shock. “I beg your pardon?”

“I want you to have a baby. An heir,” the old Russian said smoothly. “An heir to the Popovitch family.”

I swallowed hard. “You want me to have sex with you?” My skin crawled at the thought of his hands on me. Surely this kind of thing didn’t happen in real life?

Throwing back his head, the old man laughed. “As tempting as that offer is, I don’t plan to touch you. It’s my grandson who is in need of your services.”

His eyes slipped to the side, and I followed his gaze. Somehow I had missed the man sitting behind the desk, watching all of this play out silently. Dark hair, tanned face, and icy blue eyes. The man who has interrupted us with a firm no.

“You want me to marry—”

More laughter cut me off. “I don’t need a wife for my grandson, Daisy. I need you to open your legs and let him fill you with a baby.”

I swallowed around the hard lump in my throat. “I can’t,” I mumbled. If Dimitri was feared and respected, the man behind the desk was even more so.

He was a heartless monster.

“That is a shame.” The older man nodded his head, and two of his goons took threatening steps forward, straight towards my father.

A sob ripped its way out of my throat. “Wait, what are you doing? Stop, don’t!”

Tears filled my eyes. “I…I’ll do it.”

“I knew you would be amenable, Daisy. Now we will leave you alone so you and my grandson can get acquainted.” He ushered everyone out of the room silently. My father left without even looking in my direction. No goodbye, no I’m sorry. He just walked away with his head bowed.

He left me alone with the most feared man in the city, and I would never forgive him.

The slamming of the door made me jump. The lock being turned made me want to throw up.

Because that meant I was locked in with him.

The most dangerous man on the East Coast. Maybe the entire country.

Ilya Popovitch.

Our eyes clashed over the space between us. And my heart lodged in my throat when he slowly lifted himself to his feet.

Ilya was tall. Much taller than the glossy magazines made him out to be, but it was more than that. The very air seemed to turn cold around him. “I,” I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. It’s a pleasure to—"

Rounding the desk, he leant on it, and the look he gave me locked my words in my throat.

“I told him that you wouldn’t do it. That I didn’t want you.”

Frowning, I lifted my eyes to him. What did he mean he didn’t want me? What was wrong with me? Before I could open my mouth to ask and probably get myself killed, I snapped my lips together.

What did it matter if he didn’t want me? I didn't want him either. If he refused me, then I would be free. And my dad would be dead. Unless I could find another way to repay his secret debts, of course, which I doubted I could ever do.

“Do you understand that? I don’t want you.”

I wanted to scream at him that I didn’t want him either.

In fact, I wanted to run away screaming from the look he was giving me.

“I know, right?” I tried to lighten the tone when the silence stretched on. “It’s ridiculous to think two strangers would just make love and make a baby because someone orders it.”

One dark eyebrow arched upwards. “Make love?” he queried, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “I don’t think love has anything to do with this arrangement.” Bright blue orbs flashed, and I quickly lowered my eyes. “Of course not, I just meant—"

“Shut up.”

My lips snapped shut.

“Come here.”

It was an order I couldn’t ignore. My feet moved slowly towards him. Each step felt like I was walking through thick mud.

I didn’t want to go to him. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Ilya had a reputation of being cruel and domineering in all aspects of his life. But he also expected to be obeyed, and I didn’t want to make him mad at me.

Rumors were he could snap a man’s neck without even breaking a sweat, and my neck was so dainty.

“At least you can follow rules.”

He moved so quickly that I screamed when he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me onto the desk. Papers crumpled under my ass as he forced my legs apart and slipped between them.

“Let’s get on with it. I’d like to go home before the sun comes up.”

I didn’t have a chance to react before his lips found mine. He kissed the way he looked. Hard and brutal. His lips forced mine open, and his tongue swept into my mouth.

The hands on my waist pulled me to the very edge of the desk. Papers fell to the floor, and I felt him press into my core.

I whimpered into him, and he swallowed the sound down.

The tongue in my mouth touched mine, the grip he had on my body softened, and he deepened the kiss.

One hand came up to cup my skull, the other covered my breast, his thumb brushing across my nipple and teasing it upwards through the thin material of my tank top. And it felt good. My body reacted to his lips on me and his hands on my body almost immediately.

What was wrong with me? This shouldn’t feel as nice as it did.

Skimming his lips across my jawline, he trailed his tongue down the slender column of my throat and my head fell back with a whimper.

“Needy little whore,” he mumbled under his breath. Yanking down my thin tank top, he moved his full lips to my left breast, sucking my hardening nipple up with firm strokes of his tongue.

My head fell back further so my long blonde ponytail swung down my back, and I moaned.

It didn’t matter what horrible words came out of his sinfully good mouth.

My body was reacting to every devilishly good thing he was doing to me.

It was just my head that was screaming, telling me not to give in to him.

“Needy—” Yanking me off the edge of the desk, he flipped me over, pushing the top half of my body into the wood.

My shorts were yanked down. The cold night air blew across my half naked body, and I shivered.

“Little.” My legs were kicked wide, and that’s when I panicked.

Was he actually going to do this here? Reality crashed around me, and with it a stomach-churning panic.

Using my hands, I tried to lift my breasts from the desk.

His hand came down hard between my shoulder blades, pushing me downwards until my breast and cheeks were pressed against the worn wood.

“You’re dripping for me,” he growled out. Sliding between my parted thighs, I felt the first press of his cock against my opening. “Begging for me, aren’t you? Well, then, take it.”

He slammed his hips forward and filled me with one brutal thrust.

I screamed at the painful intrusion, my hands reaching back to try and push him away. “Oh God.” I whimpered; tears fell down my cheeks. “Please.” Wildly, I reached behind me to push at his thighs.

Ilya didn’t hear me, or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care. A groan ripped its way out of his throat. “Jesus, you’re tight. You fit me like a fucking glove.” Pulling almost all the way out, he slammed back into me over and over again.

“I wonder,” one arm reached around my hips, his fingers flying over my clit as he circled it, hard. “I wonder how you feel clamping down on me when you cum.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know what to say to any of the things that had happened since we had been picked up. It was all so unexpected.

And nothing was more unexpected than the fact that I was having sex with Ilya Popovitch.

“That’s it, baby, just like—” he pinched my clit hard, and my body jolted violently; the pain was still there. The tearing, burning agony, but pleasure flowed through me, tightening my body until I cried out and my muscles turned to twitching mush.

A long time passed—so long that my consciousness almost began to blur.

“That.” He slammed into me once more and I felt him spill himself inside of me with a groan. “Was,” he panted, “acceptable.”

As he slid from me, I heard the zipper of his pants being done up and then a harsh intake of breath. But I didn’t move. I just lay there and cried silently.

“What the hell?”