Savage Bratva Pakhan

Prologue

MIA

An arranged marriage always has the ability to make someone’s heart stop when it’s mentioned as a way to secure a future. I always knew Ivan Bykov was the one for me, the son of the city’s most notorious Russian mafia boss, and the heir to take his father’s place in the business.

Our families have always been friendly. The Bykovs runs the west coast and the Roswells run the east. Every summer and winter, our families would meet at the same vacation home, talking about how to combine the families to be the powerhouse of the country.

Before Ivan and I were born, our father’s drafted an arranged marriage proposal.

I’ve been Ivan’s since the ink dried on paper.

Sounds horrible, but it’s not. Ivan is everything I’d want in a man. He’s tall, strong, handsome, funny, and has always treated me with respect. What more can a girl ask for?

Everything has been long distance. Every summer, every moment we could, we traveled to see one another. On weekends, day offs, falling in love with someone who was picked for me made accepting the arranged marriage that much easier.

Now, I’m standing near the floor to ceiling windows in my new home.

Ivan wanted us to start fresh. He sold his penthouse apartment and bought this beautiful mansion that has the view of the Pacific Ocean.

We have our own private beach too which means I can go down at any time and put my feet in the sand.

I should be unpacking the boxes, but I can’t stop staring at the ocean. The sky is cloudless and bright blue. The waves are subtle, crashing against the shoreline with ease. The winds are calm. The seagulls are flying overhead, cawing at everything and nothing at all.

The bang of the French doors opening hits my ears, and Ivan comes in with two boxes stacked on top of one another, blocking the view of his face.

“Ivan! I can help you. Let me grab a box. You’re going to trip over yourself.”

“No, nope. I don’t want you touching these. They are heavy.” He kicks the door shut with his foot and groans when he sets the boxes down, smiling wide when he sees me.

He has sandy brown hair and blue eyes paired with a square jaw that I love to touch when he has the slightest bit of stubble.

“The security team will be moving into the East Wing of the house by the end of the week.”

I pout, sticking out my bottom lip, then wrap my arms around his waist. “Do they have to? Don’t you think we’ll be okay? The entire property is gated.”

He pushes the hair out of my face and gives me a quick, soft peck.

“I know,” he groans in agreement. “But you and I both know they have to be here. It won’t be long before the word is out that Ivan Bykov and Mia Roswell are living together.

We need all the protection we can get. Actually, Papa’s coming over later tonight to celebrate, and he’s going to help me map out the weakest points of the house to install cameras. ”

“Cameras too?” I sigh, looking down in disappointment.

I should be used to never having privacy.

I didn’t when I lived with my parents on the East Coast. Why would now be any different?

I had hoped and hope is a fickle thing to hold onto when you’re the daughter one of the wealthiest families on the East Coast. Dad works in imports and exports. That’s all I know.

And I don’t care to know more.

But I know it isn’t all legal. Just like the Bykov Mafia.

I don’t know exactly what life I’m signing up for, but I know no matter what, I’ll be protected. Ivan won’t let anything happen to me.

He cups my face with his palms and tilts my head up, so I’m forced to look at him. “Da. Cameras too.” His thumb swipes over my bottom lip. “I know it isn’t what we want, but you know my line of work, Mia. I have to make sure you’re protected from every angle.”

“Will we have any privacy? At least, in the bedroom?” I blush, heat flooding my cheeks when I think about us sharing a bed at last.

We haven’t had sex. It’s part of the contract that we wait until our wedding night, whenever that may be. I’m getting anxious and impatient.

He smirks, his hand sliding across my throat to cup the back of my neck.

“Is that what you’re worried about? And do you think I’ll actually care about privacy at that point?

” He backs me up against the wall and pins my hands above my head.

His nose brushes against mine and my breath hitches, nerves taking over, and a feeling I’ve never had before twists my gut.

And not in a good way.

The look in Ivan’s eyes is dark, almost empty as he stares at me.

“The entire security team, the neighbors, I don’t care who sees or listens, I’m going to fuck you on every surface of this house,” he whispers in my ear.

That’s the last thing I want. This world. This business takes so much from him. We never have privacy. Why can’t this be the one thing we can keep to ourselves?

His hand slides down my sides and he grips my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. “I can’t wait to finally make you mine, but in order to do that, we need a wedding, don’t we?” He kisses my cheek. “And we can’t have a wedding without an engagement.”

I nod in agreement, hoping my instincts are wrong and I’m just nervous. This is the first time I’ve been out on my own and alone with Ivan. I’m not used to him being so close to me. That has to be it. He’s given me no reason to be fearful of him.

“And to be engaged, there has to be a proposal.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a ring.

I gasp, covering my mouth as he pinches it between his fingers. It’s the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen. A single four, maybe even six, carats sitting alone on a white gold band. It sparkles so much, reminding me of how the sunlight reflects off the water.

“Ivan…” His name is breathless leaving my lips. I’m shocked. I always thought his proposal would be big and extravagant for all to see. He’s much flashier than me, but I prefer smaller, intimate moments.

“Da. Da. I know. I was supposed to wait until tomorrow night when we’re with our family, but everything is always revolving around them, and I wanted us to have our own moment.

I thought about taking you to the beach, but I knew people would be there too and maybe, the proposal being at home isn’t a bad thing.

” He lowers himself to one knee and holds out the ring.

“What’s more beautiful than starting our life together in our new home, our belongings in boxes surrounding us, our own chaos building.

I know it isn’t very romantic. Our relationship has never been romantic.

We were picked for each other, every decision dictated up until this moment, but this?

This moment can be ours. Surrounded by a space where we’ll make our new memories.

” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with nerves.

A slow, crooked grin tilts his mouth on the left side.

“Will you marry me, Mia? I love you and I promise to take care of you for the rest of our lives.”

No. Don’t. Run. Run as far away as you can, Mia. Don’t look back.

My inner voice is loud, and I push it down, swallowing it, burying it so it can’t be heard again. This is fear. Every single moment of my life has led to this very moment.

A tremble shakes my hand when I stretch it out for him to put the ring on.

What are you doing? Run!

“Yes,” I answer with a big bright smile. “Yes, Ivan. Da,” I say in his language, meaning yes. “I’ll marry you.”

His smile is so wide, it takes over his entire face, causing wrinkles to form on either side of his eyes. The metal of the ring is cool against my skin as he shoves it down on my finger. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he spins me in a circle.

I toss my head back and laugh, smiling until my cheeks hurt.

Ivan’s foot hits one of the heavy boxes and we stumble, the couch breaking our fall.

“You won’t regret this.” He hovers over me, brushing his knuckles down my cheek.

“I know.”

Liar.

Cupping my jaw, he leans down and seals his lips over mine.

I gasp when his tongue pushes between my lips and I meet his eager kiss.

He lowers his body to mine, his hand cradling the side of my neck.

His lips are firm and on the thinner side, rough, and commanding.

There’s an edge to his kiss. It isn’t desperation or want. It almost feels like anger.

His fingers dig into my hips, and his teeth sink down on my bottom lip while his hard cock presses against my thigh.

I hiss, pressing my hands against his chest. “Ivan.” I turn my head away and he is there, capturing my lips again. “Ivan!”

He grounds his cock between my legs, keeping me still against the couch from the pressure being applied on my hips.

“Ivan! You’re hurting me! Stop!” I roll out from under him and fall onto the floor with a hard smack, my knee hitting the hardwood first. I hold in the pain as I scoot away from him.

My eyes burn with the threat of tears as Ivan and I stare at one another. His chest heaves. His hair hangs in his face, adding to the maddening expression glazing his eyes.

And then, in the next instant, the fury is gone.

Concern pinches his brows,f and he buries his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Mia. I’m so sorry. I want you so bad and I didn’t hear you. I was so lost in you. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”

When he looks back up at me, remorse waters his eyes. He tugs on the ends of his hair, shaking his head in despair. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I ruined it, didn’t I? Our moment. You wanted one thing, and I couldn’t even do that.”

I’m overreacting.

I slide over to him and press my hands on his knees, the big rock on my finger catching the light. “No, no. It’s okay, Ivan. I’m sorry too. I don’t think I’m used to that and I got nervous.” I look away ashamed.

I was practically kept in my room my entire life or had an escort glued to my side everywhere I went. Everything I’m learning now, I’m learning for the first time.

“Don’t. Don’t ever apologize for being uncomfortable. We go at your pace, okay?” He picks me up and sits me on his lap.

I’m about to reply to him when a loud pounding sounds on the door.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Someone must be using their fist.

Ivan checks his watch. “Papa isn’t supposed to be here yet.” He slides me off his lap and takes out a gun from the waistband of his pants.

“Ivan. Open the door. It’s me.”

Ivan’s shoulders slump and he chuckles, tucking the weapon into this waistband again. “It’s just my Papa. He’s early.”

My heart stutters in my chest. It always does when it comes to Aleksandr Bykov. A man twice my age and who has no business filling my thoughts like he does.

“You’re about to be a Bykov, Mia. Let’s tell him the good news.”

Is it good? Or am I doomed?