Arranged Bratva Love

Lottie

I hate knives of all kinds.

On one of the nights when my father was in a drunken rage, he had me stand in front of his knife. He forced me to put the center of my neck right next to his blade and as I did, I truly thought he was going to cut me. He didn’t, obviously.

There were times he would use his knife on me, but he rarely sharpened them. Most often they didn’t do any damage to me. Only when he dug the blade in, did it even cut my skin.

With the knife Ive had, only the smallest of touches and the corset had given way. He took care of his weapons. I made a mental note to be cautious whenever he had his knives. Stripping out of the wedding dress, I picked it up and placed it in the laundry basket. Some women keep their dresses. I had no intention of keeping my dress, or even looking at it.

Moving toward the shower, I see the button to switch it on, and do so, placing my hand inside, waiting for the water to warm up. The moment it is, I step beneath the hot spray. I love the warmth. Tilting my head back, I enjoyed the feel of the hot water as it washed over my body.

I’m married. To a man I don’t know. A killer. A murderer. A monster. I can’t help but touch my chest. My heart is beating rapidly. I’m not sure if I’m afraid or not. Does Ive scare me?

There are times I cannot tell if I’m afraid or just used to those feelings of fear. My father did a number on me-again, it doesn’t take a genius to realize that. I’m not a stupid person. I did okay in school. I hated school, but I hated home more.All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I wash the day off my body, the makeup sliding off my face and filling the drain. I take deep breaths as I do, bringing myself to a sense of calm. After washing my body, I finish doing my hair, and then turn the water off. It’s still warm so I don’t have to worry about it being too cold.

Stepping out of the shower, I grab a towel and wrap it around my body. I use another one on my hair, and glancearound the bathroom. I’ve already taken care of my teeth. I’d not eaten a lot today. I just couldn’t stomach food. Adelaide and Aurora had tried to get me to eat. The two women seemed nice, but they were also Bratva wives. My gut was telling me to be careful of who I trust. The unloved daughter of the MC I may be, but I also knew how to deal with certain situations. Likewhen I was taken. At first, being quiet and not making a sound, trying to be invisible, hadn’t been an option. I knew my father would find any excuse to hurt me, if he thought for even a second I’d been complicit to the Bratva. So I had fought. I had screamed. I had ordered my release. It hadn’t worked. Instead of being free, I was now married into the Volkov Bratva. Rage told me it would be okay, but I didn’t know how it could be.

I was married to the enemy. I’d heard my father mention the Volkov Bratvamany times, and it was never with a happy face. He hated them. He’d wanted to go to war with them. Ivan’s name had come up a lot. My father had wanted more territory. His plan had been to start with Oleg, and slowly work his way into taking over from Ivan Volkov. He’d not seen Ivan as a threat. The useless son, the waste of space.

There were many rumors that surrounded Ivan’s birth. To my father, he’d been nothing. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, if Ivan had been nothing, why was it that he controlled the Volkov Bratva? His name instilled fear, even within the MC. I’d seen it.

People had a way of trying to hide their emotions, but I’d been nothing to them. I was invisible to most of them, so they didn’t care what I saw. I meant nothing. Ivan scared the MC, and I knew Rage didn’t see him as weak.

Ivan was a threat to the MC.

Abusiness deal like this went against everything my father stood for, and I knew Rage hadn’t removed my father’s followers from the MC.

There were no clothes waiting for me in the bathroom. Stepping out of the en suite, Ive was no longer on the bed. At first, I didn’t see him, it was like he blended in with the furniture which was fucking impossible, but there he was, next to some drawers near the door, staring right at me. His face was bland.

“Do you know if Cassie has brought up some clothes?”

He pointed toward the bed. His actions made me think of the Grim Reaper, and that wasn’t a pleasant thought.

“Right. The bathroom’s free.”

He nodded his head and then moved. I felt the threat of his body with each step he took. He stepped close to me. “If you try to run, it will end badly for you. Do you understand me?”

“I’m not going to run,” I said.

The house was filled with Bratva. Rage had already told me he was going to leave the moment I left the party. If anyone was going to save me, it would be him, and he’d already told me he was leaving. It was just me. Yay.

I expected Ive to threaten me with more chains, but instead, he walked into the bathroom, silent. That wasn’t too bad. Ihad no intention of running. Stepping toward the bed, I saw there was a sexy negligee.

“Seriously!”

This is not a sexy marriage. Ive hated me. I know he only married me because his boss told him to. This is not a love match. He doesn’t even like me.

Picking up the negligee, I shake my head. Across the bed, I spot his gun. Did he know he left it? Why would he leave his gun in plain sight?

Dropping the negligee to the bed, I glare at the damn thing. It was a freaking test. Seriously? He was testing me onour wedding night? Admittedly, I had no doubt Ive was going to testme all the freaking time. I wasn’t Bratva. I was MC. That is what he saw and I couldn’t say I blamed him. In my heart, I was no one.

What did he expect me to do? Grab the gun and shoot my way out of this house? To face Ivan and his four other brigadiers? Shaking my head, I glared at the gun, but removed the towel covering my body. I was not stupid.

Pulling on the negligee, I start to rub at my hair, drying it. I should really get the length cut, but for the past few months I’d let it grow out. Apart from being kidnapped and trapped, my dad had seemed to be at a loose end, and getting my hair cut was a luxury I didn’t deserve. One summer, I’d pissed him off with asking, and he’d grabbed my hair and a pair of scissors and hacked it off himself. If it hadn’t been for Rage, I’m sure he’d have kept going until I didn’t have any hair left.

Whenever I wanted something, Rage was who I went to. There were times that Cassie would intervene. She wanted to go to the spa and would demand Daddy let her take me. During those days, my hair would get done. Cassie would insist on me being treated like a princess. I’m not going to lie, I did love those days. They were a lot of fun. I had a feeling that was Cassie’s way of giving me a little bit of comfort. So long as she stayed the princess of the club, she was able to use her charm to get what she wanted. Most of the time, it was to help me out. She would even insist on having a girl’s day with me.

Father hated those days, but Cassie would bat her eyes and we’d go shopping. I’d get new clothes and a haircut. She always had to be careful that he never knew what she was really up to.

Earlier today, when Aurora and Adelaide had finally left, Cassie hadcome up to me and cupped my face.

“Do you need me to put a stop to this?”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“Trust me, there’s always something I can do.”

“Like what? Take my place?”

Cassie had frowned but I knew if I said thatwas what I wanted, she would have done it. My sister did love me. No one knew it. Not even Rage. After some of the beatings my father had given, it had been Cassie who helped me. She had treated my wounds, and she had been so angry. She had wanted to run away several times. She even tried to call Social Services, but with how powerful he was, nothing had happened. One of the people on Dad’s payroll had told him someone had called, and I paid the price. Cassie never called again, but she tried every single time to make my life better.

“You don’t deserve this.”

“Dad always said I was destined to die. I guess this is the way I get to go.”

“No. You don’t get to talk like that. This is so unfair.”

I’d smiled at Cassie. I told her I would be fine. I was a survivor and if I could take on our father, then this was nothing. I still breathed, even when he gave up on me. He’d wanted to turn the whole club against me.

Instead, he was dead, I was alive, and married to one of the most powerful men and a true enemy of our father’s. What could go wrong?

Therewas a lot that could go wrong. The gun opposite was proof of that. Ive was going to try and ruin me. If that was his plan, it would take a lot more than a purposefully placed gun. I was not stupid, and had survived worse.

I picked up the towels and thenwalked toward the bathroom. Stepping inside, I ignore the man in the shower, dump the towels on top of my wedding dress, and grab the brush I spot on the counter.

Leaving the bathroom, I run the brush through my hair and smirk as I imagine opening the shower and swatting him on the ass with my hairbrush. I wonder what he would think of my weapon of choice. I don’t even know what I’m thinking anymore. Nothing makes any sense. I finish brushing my hair and then move toward the bed, throw back the covers, and climb in.

This had to be one of the strangest days of my life, and this was my life, so I had a lot tocompare it to. Also, in a rather strange way, it had also been one of the best days of my life. If I really allowed myself to analyze and think about it, I loved dancing with Ive. He was a good dancer, not that I had anyone to compare him to. He moved gracefully and when his hands were wrapped around me, I truly felt protected.

What the hell was wrong with me?