Page 56 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

"Don't be a bitch about it! Walking around with those tits bouncing—who you trying to tease?" He slurred, spewing filth.

Cold sweat broke out down my back.

"Help! Someone help!" I screamed, praying someone would pass by.

"No one's coming through here, sweetheart." He grinned grotesquely. "Save your voice—you'll need it later!"

"Let go of me, you bastard!" I struggled, trying to wrench my wrist free.

But he had me locked down, even twisting my arm back.

I swung my canvas bag at him with my free hand. Drunk as he was, he dodged it. Now he had both my hands pinned behind me, pressing me against the wall.

"Fuck—let go!" I kicked backward, hitting nothing.

"Fuck?" He laughed. "Don't worry, I'll fuck you real good, you little slut."

I was running out of strength. His hand slid down to my ass. I nearly vomited.

"Damn, this ass is quality too. You're a fucking prize!" He started tearing at my skirt.

No! Help! Someone—anyone—please just walk by.

Terror and despair crashed over me. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying this was all some nightmare.

"Ah! You mother—" A scream and the crack of bone exploded next to me. The hands holding me vanished.

I spun around. Under the dim streetlight, a tall, broad silhouette came into view. Matvey.

What was he doing here? This broken-down street didn't belong to his world.

His tailored suit jacket was gone. The black shirt stretched tight across his wide shoulders and muscled back. He had thedrunk by the collar, dangling him in the air, his other fist slamming into the man's face without mercy.

"Ah! My eye—"

"You should be fucking dead." Matvey's voice was ice-cold, heart-stopping.

Another brutal punch. The drunk's screams faded to weak whimpers. But Matvey didn't stop.

"Matvey! Stop it!" I finally found my voice through the shock.

The drunk's body was going limp. Matvey was going to kill him.

Hearing me, Matvey froze. He let go. The half-dead man crumpled to the ground. Then he turned around slowly. In the dim light, I finally saw his face. That sculpted, perfect face was dark with fury, his gray-green eyes still burning with violence.

"Are you okay?" He stepped toward me, hands on my shoulders, turning me in a full circle before stopping.

His sharp cedar scent filled my nose—so familiar it made me want to cry.

I wanted to forget everything and collapse into his arms. But mixed with the cedar was a faint trace of roses. Veronica's scent.

I nearly suffocated. What was I hoping for? He was here because he was possessive of what belonged to him. Once he went back to his glittering world, he'd still choose his beautiful ex-wife.

"Seen enough?" I pushed his hands off and stepped back. "Don't pretend to care. I can handle myself."

"Handle yourself?" His voice held irritation. "If I hadn't shown up, you'd already be—"

He stepped forward again, gripping my shoulders, nose almost touching mine. My heart raced—the kind of flutter that came from instinct, from the body. The man I'd been thinking about had saved me. I should hold him, kiss him... But all I wanted now was to escape.