Owned By The Bratva King: A Bratva Captive Romance

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Owned By The Bratva King: A Bratva Captive Romance Page 5

by Cole, Jagger


  He turns and steps inside, leaving me trembling and far more worked up than I have any right to be.

  At first, my inclination is to stick it to him by doing nothing. After breakfast, I just sit by the pool, arms crossed, glaring at nothing. But then I realize how ridiculous that is—how petulant it makes me look, sulking like a child.

  I eye the pool. It does look amazing, and tempting. But then I think of earlier this morning, going into the closet to find clothes for the day. Yeah, there are bathing suits in there. And it’s not like they’re any more scandalous or skimpy than any of the suits I’ve been photographed in.

  But there something easy about posing for an anonymously huge and wide-spread audience. It’s another thing to put one on knowing it’s basically for Yuri’s eyes only.

  Instead, I find myself wandering down into the lower decks of the huge yacht. Eventually, I find the library, and my jaw drops. Holy shit. I feel like Belle—not my friend, the Disney character, in the Beast’s library. The place is three stories tall, with gilded balconies and shelves and shelves of beautiful books.

  I used to agonize about trying to “prove” that I wasn’t just some vapid brain-dead model; that I’m actually very, very smart. That’s one of the reasons I was able to run off and do modeling in Europe and Asia at sixteen. It wasn’t that I was ditching school. It was that I graduated high school two years early. Not dropped out and took the GED. I mean I literally passed every test and credit two years early.

  But people don’t care. They want to see you how they want to see you. So, I stopped trying to push the fact that I was smart at every damn interview. Let the tabloids and fans think what they want. And in the background, I’ll be reading whatever I want, and delving into learning random stuff because I enjoy it.

  So before I know it, I’ve spent four hours in the library, and I’m starving. But the boat is enormous. And after ten twists and turns, I have no idea where I am.

  “You seem lost.”

  I gasp, turning to look up at the burly but now-familiar man. Maksim looks at me impassively, right in the eyes as always.

  “I…” I frown. “Yeah, actually. How the hell do you not get lost on this thing?”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Food?”

  He smiles. “This way, Ms. Finn.”

  “You can just call me River, you know.”

  Maksim nods, but says nothing more as he leads me to through the winding halls of the yacht. Soon enough, we end up in the sumptuous dining room that looks like it may as well be a three-star restaurant in downtown New York or Chicago.

  “I’ll have the chef send out something delicious.”

  I smile as I find a seat at one of the tables. “Thanks, Maskim.”

  “Enjoy your lunch, Ms. Finn.”

  Well, so much for the casual first-name route.

  When he leaves, a handful of waiters bring me sparkling water, white wine I didn’t ask for, and some sort of fucking incredible ceviche type appetizer. Course after course, I’m diving into scallops bathed in butter, a salad with candied walnuts and gorgonzola—all sorts of stuff I could never be eating in my “real life.” But here I am, diving into each dish.

  I’m being pampered. Maybe this is kind of a vacation. I mean by the last course, I’m literally eating what is essentially a super fancy grilled fucking cheese.

  And yet, when the table is cleared, I frown. I might be being pampered. But you can leave a vacation.

  After lunch, the guilt of all the rich, buttery, delicious food eats at me until I cave with a groan. I find workout clothes back in the room, and then head to the gym. A grueling, punishing hour on the stationary bike later, I’m aching for a swim.

  And screw it. If Yuri wants to perv on me in a bathing suit, whatever. I blush when the idea of him doing exactly that brings a heat to my core.

  The pool, of course, is amazing. This whole fucking boat is amazing. And somehow, despite my inner need to rebel and give Yuri the finger, at seven, I’m showered, dressed in a casual gown and heels, and stepping out onto the private deck after being escorted up by Maksim.

  Yuri is standing by the railing in a dark suit, shirt open, no tie. Which seems to be his style. But hell, if you look like him dressed like that, that should always be your style, always.

  He turns to smile thinly at me.

  “You enjoyed your day I hope?”

  “I did.”

  “Not a bad vacation after all, it would seem,” he says with a smirk.

  I arch a brow, saying nothing. Yuri gestures to the gorgeously laid out table with the candle flickering on it.

  “Sit, please.”

  When I do, just like at lunch, instantly champagne and sumptuous food is brought silently to the table. I eye it with a grumbling stomach. But I’m thinking of the decadent lunch I had, even with the grueling workout after. I start to pick lightly at bits of the food, and Yuri sighs.

  “You should eat.”

  “I don’t eat much,” I shrug.

  He arches a brow. “You’re on a break, River. Not a photoshoot.”

  I look up to see him grinning at me.

  “Eat, please.”

  When my stomach groans again at the incredible smells, I cave. I dig into the sumptuous food and groan deeply.

  “God, this is amazing.”

  “I know.”

  I smirk, looking up at him.

  “I mean all of this…” My teeth drag over my lip. But then I shake my head.

  “Yes?”

  “Nothing.”

  “No,” he growls. His eyes narrow. “Speak.”

  I run my tongue over my teeth, eying him before I finally just blurt it out.

  “I know what you are.”

  Yuri smirks. “I don’t make much of an effort of hiding what I am.”

  “You’re in the Bratva.”

  He smiles dangerously. “No, kiska. I am not in the Bratva. I am the Bratva.”

  A shiver dances down my back.

  “And that gives you the right to do what you want?”

  His smile fades.

  “Yes, it does.”

  I frown. “That’s not how the world works.”

  “That is exactly how the world works,” he growls. “Power, money, influence… that is how the world keeps turning. That is what keeps us from dissolving into chaos and destruction.”

  “Says the man who kills people for a living.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I don’t kill people for a living, River.”

  “Oh reall—”

  “I kill people to make a point,” he growls. “I kill people to show my enemies that there will be no quarter. Or to show my own people what happens with dissent.”

  My brows arched as I set my fork own. “Wow, tell me more, Nero.”

  He chuckles. “You think of me as a tyrant?”

  “To show your people what happens with dissent?” I parrot back with an arched brow. “What would you prefer? Tsar? Emperor?”

  “I thought I was clear that ‘sir’ would work just fine.”

  I blush. Yuri sets his wine glass down.

  “Come.”

  He stands and beckons me to follow him to the railing, where he waves a hand across the huge boat laid out before us.

  “Look at this.”

  Below us, I see all manner of staff all over the boat. There are people cleaning, guards with guns patrolling the lower decks. At the pool, a man seems to be testing the pH levels while another scrubs the diving board.

  Waiters scurry. A man hangs off the edge of the railing over the water, changing an LED bulb.

  “These people’s jobs exist because of me, and this boat.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re really going to throw out trickle-down economics at me? As a mafia boss? What, you’re a ‘job creator’?”

  “You’re missing the point.” I gasp as he looms close to me, his eyes piercing into mine. “I’m not denying that I am a Tsar. Or an emperor, or tyrant. I am all of tho
se things,” he snarls. “And I wield that power daily.”

  I chew at my lip. “What was the point of showing me—”

  “This.”

  He snaps. One snap. And instantly, the staff melts away like fucking magic. The guards disappear. The guy testing the pool and the one scrubbing the diving board are just gone. The waiters, the maintenance people, all of them.

  And suddenly, it’s like we’re alone on the gigantic boat.

  “Just like that, they’re just… gone?”

  “Just like that,” he growls as he turns to me. “Do you know what that is?”

  I swallow.

  “That is power.”

  I start to open my mouth, but he shakes his head.

  “You cannot buy power like that. You earn it. You are born with the ability to hold it in your fist and bend it to your will.” His eyes burn as they hold my gaze. His gorgeous, chiseled jaw grits.

  “I was born to this throne, River. I am the fourth generation of men to lead this family. It is in my blood. I wield this power because I breathe it. And I will do anything, and go to any length, and do whatever it takes to keep that power and control.”

  I tremble, taking a shaky breath. “Damn the consequence, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn what anyone else thinks?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn if that inconveniences—”

  I gasp as he suddenly cups my jaw and looms close with a snarl. My pulse surges, and my breath catches in my throat.

  “I told you earlier,” he growls as his eyes narrow. “You have a mouth on you.”

  He groans as he moves close—so close that I can feel the heat of his body and his breath on my lips.

  “And?” I gasp in a trembling voice.

  “And I like it.”

  His mouth closes the distance and crushes to mine, ferociously. My pulse spikes as his gorgeous lips captivate mine. But then before I know it, I’m moaning. I’m gasping and whimpering as his big hand cups my jaw and his other one slides around my waist to pull me tight to him.

  He groans into my mouth, and I’m moaning right back. My eyes close, and I sink into the kiss. I melt against him, eagerly wanting more. My body shivers with lust as he pins me to the railing. His body is so hard against me, and when I feel something throb against my stomach, I whimper eagerly.

  His knee slips between my legs. I feel him flex against me, and when his knee starts to spread my thighs, I tremble as I cling to him. I kiss him back, hungry for all of it. His thigh grinds against the wet heat of my panties, and I moan into his mouth.

  And then suddenly, he freezes, and he pulls back. My heart races, and my eyes flutter open. My cheeks burn as his eyes pierce into me. His jaw clenches as he drops his hands from me and steps away, chest heaving.

  “Rest up, kiska,” he says tightly. His jaw grinds and his hands are clenching so hard at his side that I can see his biceps bulging even under the suit jacket.

  “Tomorrow, we have a meeting. If it goes well, who knows?” He smiles thinly. “Maybe you go free.”

  He turns and snaps. Maksim suddenly appears and nods at me, and I know it’s time to go.

  “And what makes this meeting go well?”

  He stiffens.

  “I need to know, Yuri,” I hiss quietly. “Why the hell am I here, and what the fuck is this meeting—”

  “The men who tried to take you, before my men intervened?” he snaps, whirling on me. “They work for a rival of mine.” Yuri’s eyes narrow dangerously. “He desires you.”

  I pale. “Excuse me?”

  “I think that’s as clear as I can put it for you, kiska,” he snaps, looking furious. “This man broke a fragile peace between us by taking something that was mine.”

  My heart skips. My stomach knots as the pieces suddenly click into horrible place.

  “So you took me, because he wants me.”

  Yuri’s mouth thins. “Yes,” he hisses.

  “And this meeting—”

  “This man took something of mine, and so I took something he believed was his.” His eyes narrow on me. “You, River. I took you, because he desires to have you for himself. Now…” he spreads his arms and shrugs. His face is grim.

  “Now what,” I spit.

  “Now, I’m going to use you to destroy him,” he says flatly. My heart twists, making me wince.

  Yuri’s eyes level at me. “You are here, kiska, because you are leverage.”

  My face falls. The high of the kiss mere seconds ago evaporates like smoke. Whatever this throbbingly hot little interlude was, it’s over. And now, we’re back to the business at hand: him as the captor, me as the captive.

  “That is how the world works, River” he growls thickly.

  “This is not how the—”

  “This is how my world works,” he snaps. His jaw clenches. His eyes burn into me. He opens his mouth to say something else. But then it snaps shut. With one more piercing look, he whirls. And then he’s gone.

  6

  Yuri

  I’ve barely made it back to my private quarters before I’m ripping my belt open. I groan, sagging against the door at my back. My pants drop, and I hiss in pleasure as my hand wraps around my thick cock.

  I stroke.

  I stroke as imagine not pulling away from the kiss just now. I feel my cock surge and throb as I imagine pulling her dress open and dropping to my knees between her pretty thighs. My balls draw tight and swell with cum as I play out the fantasy of pushing my swollen dick into her virgin cunt and claiming her all for my own.

  By the time I’m picturing the feel of her pussy clenching around me as she comes, I’m at the edge. With a groan, my dick pulses in my fist. Thick, white ropes of cum spurt from the head and spill across the floor.

  My eyes close. My jaw grits. I’m losing control. I’m spinning out of control. This plan should have ended the second I saw who it was that came off that helicopter. A full-out war with the Belsky Bratva would actually be easier than trying to pretend River doesn’t destroy my walls and defenses.

  My mind flashes back to the look of hurt and betrayal on her face when I told her about Semyon and why she’s here. The pain of telling her that, and of thinking of that motherfucker laying his hands on her almost ripped me apart. But it had to be done. She had to be told.

  I close my eyes. Because she is not mine. She cannot be mine.

  I should have sent her back. I should have walked away from this. But now, I can’t. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe both.

  Now, I’m in too deep. There’s no going back now. God help her.

  I glance over at her as the helicopter starts to descend. River is looking out the window, her long, blonde-red hair tied up in an elaborate bun atop her head. She reaches down to play with the hem of her summer dress. My jaw clenches as my eyes sweep over her bare thighs.

  I don’t relish the idea of showing her off to a pig like Semyon. But I need her looking like this for this meeting. I need him constantly looking at her, reminding him of what’s at stake here. He needs the visceral, visual reminder of what he’ll lose if he fails to give me what I want.

  The sudden thought of giving this girl to him sends a stab of fury through my very soul. I snarl and turn away from her, glaring down at the downtown Odesa office building we’re about to land on top of.

  This is neutral ground. The modern building is owned by Petya Gagarina—the oligarch who Semyon and I both do lots of business with. Meeting here is an assurance that a peace will be observed, at least for this meeting. We will behave as gentleman… or at least, as much as gentlemen as men like me are capable of being.

  I drag my eyes up to the side of her face. She hasn’t looked at me the whole ride over from the yacht. She’s barely spoken a word to me. I know it’s all from last night—telling her about this meeting and why I really took her.

  But so be it, I tell myself, repeatedly. So be it. This is business. This is what it takes to run an empire. A king does not save a pawn.
A king uses the pawns available to him to win. End of story.

  The helicopter touches down. Maksim and a few other well-trusted men have come with us, for security. They step out first, and I eye the frosty looks between my men and Semyon’s who are waiting for us.

  The chopper engine shuts off. Maksim turns to nod at me.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Fine,” River snaps.

  She steps out first, arms folded across her chest. We walk down the stairs from the helipad down into the modern office building. The meeting room is through a door at the end of a glassed-in hallway. But when we get there, I nod for Maksim and my men to go in first. When River goes to follow, I suddenly grab her and yank her back.

  She gasps as I shove her against the wall, my pulse thudding. I growl as I press close to her, my eyes burning into hers.

  “What?” she snaps.

  “I don’t relish this meeting,” I snarl. “Just so we’re clear.”

  “Oh, well, thank you for clarifying, sir,” she spits back.

  My eyes narrow. “Do you think I enjoy this?”

  She laughs coldly. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes snap to mine. Her mouth thins. “Then yes, I do. Because I think you’re a cold-hearted psychopath with a God complex who fancies himself a fucking king.” She smiles a sneering, sarcastic smile. “So you, your highness. I actually think you’re enjoying the shit out of trading me to a fucking rival like a bargaining—”

  I snap. Before she can even finish dressing me down, I snarl and shove her against the wall as my mouth slams into hers. I kiss her fiercely—punishingly. I kiss her hard enough to bruise, until she’s whimpering into my mouth.

  And then suddenly, she pulls back. Her eyes flash with green fire. And suddenly, her hand is slapping me across the face.

  I stare at her with a mix of fury and shock. She stares back in absolute horror at what she’s just done. But she has just done it. I snarl quietly, my blood boiling as my teeth bare at her. She swallows, her face paling.

  “I-I…”

  “Let’s go,” I snarl. I grab her arm, turn, and yank her through the door into the meeting room. Inside, there’s a long, old wooden conference table lined with designer chairs. And at the head of the table opposite the door is the little piggy himself.

 

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