Page 51 of The Bratva Sinner

She storms out.

And then it’s just me and Maksim. My husband.

“So.” I step back and cross my arms. “We’re married.”

“We are.”

“Let me be very clear about something.” I meet his eyes, making sure he understands every word. “This is a business arrangement. You get to tell people I’m your wife. You get to use our marriage to protect me. But that’s it.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious. I will never have sex with you.”

Something flickers across his face. Amusement? Disappointment? I can’t tell.

“That’s your choice,” he says.

“Good. You don’t need me anyway. You’ve got forty women at your disposal. Go fuck them. I’ll keep my room.”

He grabs me and jerks me against him, taking my gasp of surprise as an invitation. His mouth covers mine, and his tongue plunges inside. I open my mouth wider. His hand drops to squeeze my ass. I groan and lean against him.

Fuck it. He can have me. I wrap my arms around his waist, rubbing myself against him.

Then, he steps back, and I nearly fall to the floor. I’m dizzy. He wipes his mouth with his finger and grins at me. “Enjoy your empty bed, Lila. Like you said, I’ve got no less than forty women to choose from to keep my bed warm.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me staring at the door in shock.

My eyes go to his desk, and to the big paperweight sitting on it. I pick it up and hurl it at the door. “Asshole!”

14

Maksim

I watch the operations from my usual spot on the second floor of Obsidian, overlooking the main floor. The club is packed tonight. It’s busy every night. I watch the bodies moving under strobing lights, and the music pounds so loud that I feel it in my chest. It’s just another night.

Except now, I’m married.

The ring on my finger feels strange. Heavy. I keep catching myself staring at it and twisting it around and around my finger.

“Congratulations, boss.” Sampson appears at my elbow with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. “Heard the news.”

“Word travels fast.”

“You wanted it to.” He pours us both a drink. “To Mrs. Sokolova.”

I take the glass and knock it back. The vodka burns going down, but it doesn’t touch the knot in my stomach. I haven’t heard from my brothers, but I know the lectures are coming.

More of my people come by over the next hour. Guards. Managers. Even a few of the women working the floor. They all offer congratulations. Some seem genuinely happy for me. Others look confused; they know this isn’t my style. I don’t do relationships or commitment.

I’m certainly not the marrying type.

“Maksim.” Cinder’s voice cuts through the noise. She’s standing at the top of the stairs with her arms crossed, her expression cold enough to freeze hell.

“Cinder.”

“We need to talk.”

I follow her to my private office in the back. She slams the door.