Arranged Bratva Love

Aurora

In a matter of days, I’d gone from spending my time being bored, reading one book after another, to being escorted around by Slavik.

He’d killed my guard, and rather than hire another one, he kept me to himself.

I had no choice in the matter.

He had so many businesses. When we arrived at some, he kept me in the car. The doors locked. He even kept the windows down when it was really warm as if I was some kind of dog.

Each day, the anger kept on simmering inside me, waiting to explode.

The work never stopped. He was everywhere and nowhere. We ended up taking a private jet to travel to different cities. All of them under his rule. He kept watch over it all. He worked during the day and at night; there was no space.

After three weeks, taking our marriage over the seven-month mark, I stood in one of his nightclubs. This time, he’d allowed me to change. The first time I came to this nightclub, which was simply called The Club, so very cute, I’d been in sweatpants and a shirt. This time, I wore a tight dress.

It was the only one he’d allow me to wear. It was tight against my body, and I couldn’t stop wriggling in it. I was worried I looked fat and frumpy.

The women on the dance floor were goddesses.

Each one looked so happy and free. Like they held all the power within their lives and I had nothing. My husband controlled me. I wasn’t given a single reprieve.

Even when some men, business associates, dared to comment on my presence, Slavik told them to mind their own business or they’d see his very bad side.

How many other men like Slavik escorted their wives around to everything?

With my palm on the private window overlooking the dance floor, envy flooded me. It was an emotion I didn’t like.

The music vibrated the room, but I couldn’t hear it.

Slavik spoke on the phone. He spoke in Russian, which was so hard to think about as his accent rarely came through.

I kept on glancing back at him, and each time I did, I found his gaze was already on me.

We hadn’t done anything else since he made me work his penis in the shower. Who am I kidding? I knew it was a cock. Thinking about it, I got aroused. He’d been so hard and as I played with him, I’d worked him into a fever where he had no choice but to come. I’d never felt that kind of power over a man, and the truth was I wanted it again.

Slavik put the phone down. “I’ve got to go and handle something downstairs. Stay here.”

I wanted to argue with him, but he was already out the door.

We were back to him treating me like I didn’t exist. Actually, scrap that, he treated me like a dog. I was surprised he hadn’t put a little bed in the corner and didn’t have treats in his pocket.

I hated him.

Folding my arms beneath my breasts, I spun back to the window and glared out at the dance floor. Anger rushed through me with no place to go.

I’d seen how violent he’d gotten with Sergei.

I pushed some hair back from my face, breathing in and out, hoping to calm my nerves, but nothing seemed to want to stick.

I felt angry at him.

Thinking back to that day, I recalled Bethany’s words. She’d tried to call, to set up another dinner date, but I declined. Slavik even tried to arrange for me to go and see her, but I refused.

There was no way I was going to force my company on others.

With my arms wrapped around myself, I stared onto the dance floor, finding Slavik.

He spoke to a couple of men who nodded and fanned out.

Slavik headed toward the bar, and I hated that he was so handsome. He wasn’t the boy next door. He was far more dangerous and with it, potent.

Women turned to look at him. Yearning swirled within their gaze. He showed no sign of noticing them as he talked to the man working behind the bar.

I smiled at how he acted. I knew he saw their gazes. Did he know I watched?

Licking my lips, the happiness died instantly as a cute redhead launched herself at him. She wore a shorter dress than the one I wore and as I stood in his office, I watched this other woman rub herself all over Slavik.

He didn’t push her away.

Anger, pain, and hurt, it all melded in my gut.

I spun on my heel and stormed out of the office. No guards to keep me locked up in this room. Wow. I wasn’t even worth the extra security. He clearly was used to me being the good girl who didn’t do anything wrong.

I’d fucking show him.

With each step I took, the two sides of my personality conflicted. I kept telling myself to show him I was not to be ignored. Another side told me I was being a complete and total bitch. I needed to go back to the room.

The rebel inside me kept on walking.

Being the good girl had gotten me trapped in a loveless marriage, where I spent most of my days attached to his side.

He still had all the women in the world around him. For all I knew, he had a dozen mistresses. He may take me everywhere, but that didn’t stop him from being with anyone.

Stepping into the nightclub, I pressed my back against the nearest wall.

The rebellious side of me was suddenly a little afraid.

I’d never been to a nightclub as a customer, or participated in the dancing. The air was hot. The energy in the room pulsed around me, startling me.

The music was loud. There were no songs, just a constant thumping noise. The people in the nightclub were going a little crazy. The drinks flowed.

I stayed by the door, knowing I needed to escape.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Slavik. He held the woman’s shoulders, and I didn’t give myself time to analyze what I was doing. Rather than go onto the dance floor and make a fool of myself, which would have been a lot of fun.

No, I decided, in these murderous heels, to cross my path all the way to the bar where Slavik stood.

I made sure I was at his side so he saw it was me as I ran my hands up his body. “Hey, baby, I was getting so lost without you. There are so many men here who want me to dance, but I told them my card is full.” What the fuck was I saying? I hated the words spilling from my lips, but they were the first ones that came to me.

He’s going to kill you. This is a mistake. You should just turn away and leave.

This was all good advice, but I didn’t take any of it.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“She’s leaving.”

With that, I stepped forward, gripping the back of his neck, pulling him down toward my lips. I expected him to fight me. To make me look like an idiot, but his lips brushed against mine and I couldn’t help but moan.

One of his hands went to the curves of my ass, and I gasped as he pulled me close. His cock was still soft, but the moment he had my body flush against his, I felt him start to harden.

Breaking the kiss, I had to keep in control. I was so bored. Holding his hand, I led him out to the dance floor, ignoring the redhead completely as I asked him to dance with me.

Here was the problem. I couldn’t dance.

I noticed the crowd parted for him.

No one got in his way. Did the world around him know who he was, or were the rumors enough to keep him safe?

With the music causing a heavy beat in the air, I paused on the dance floor, but I shouldn’t have panicked.

Slavik wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close.

I released a gasp as he kept one hand on my ass, and the other lay loose at his side, but I knew better. Slavik was ready for any kind of attack.

Neither of us spoke.

The music filled the silence as he took control. We danced together, and it was more like I humped him, but he didn’t let me go, and I liked being in his arms.

I wanted to know who the woman was. Why she felt she could touch my husband. I was pissed off. Slightly humiliated.

Had he come down to speak to one of his whores? Had I kept him from getting his release?

“Who was she?” I asked.

“No one.”

“She didn’t look like no one.”

We were having to scream.

He grabbed my hand, and even as I fought him, he won. Of course, he did.

We moved toward the door I came out of. He didn’t take me to his office, instead, he pressed me up against the wall.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“I told you to stay upstairs in your office.”

“You’re welcome. Or did I interrupt your foreplay with your whore?” I asked.

Jealousy was an ugly word. One I couldn’t stand.

I stared at him and he tutted.

“You didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Then who was she?” I asked.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“No, of course not. I’m the wife you’ve been saddled with. Let’s face it, you don’t want me. You’ve never wanted me. You’re probably getting your fix with all of the other women, right?” I needed to keep better control of my temper, but once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop. “I’m supposed to live with you having a lover, a mistress, but the one guy who showed any interest in me at all, he had to die!”

Slavik slammed his palm over my mouth, silencing me. “Be careful what you speak of.”

He pulled out his cell phone, and within a matter of seconds, I was bundled into the back of a car, and the driver was ordered to take me to the penthouse suite.

I’d guess our argument was over.

I was never going to think of his apartment as home again.