Conquered Bride (Belaya Bratva 1)

“Wow,” I said as the car pulled up the winding drive, pausing before the set of sparkling double doors. “This place has people on the waiting list for like a year.”

To my surprise, Gavril chuckled, waiting for someone to open his door. “It’s good to know you can be surprised, Sveta. But how would you know such things?”

I shut my mouth as his reminder slid into my core. Sveta wouldn’t know those sorts of details about this restaurant or much of LA. I gave him a short nod, and he did so in return as the door opened and he stepped out, looking sexy in a dark suit and an equally dark sapphire blue silk shirt underneath.

My insides had quivered when I had come down the stairs at home to find him waiting for me, his eyes perusing over my choice and seemingly accepting it.

For tonight, I had chosen a sleek blue cocktail dress that had most of the back missing and only two thin straps holding the front panel over my breasts. The dress had a long slit that crept up to the top of my thigh. I had paired it with some classic black heels and one single silver pendant that I had found in the jewelry drawer.

My hair was simple, my makeup natural, and I felt like a million bucks walking into the most sought-after restaurant in LA, the envy of every woman there because of the man at my side.

Gavril was greeted immediately, and we were shown to a small, intimate table in the corner with an unobstructed view of the skyline. Gavril pulled out my chair and I gave him a small smile as I sat, clasping my hands in my lap.

To my surprise, for like the hundredth time in the last hour, he leaned down and his lips grazed my temple. “I will be back. I’m going to choose a wine from the cellar for our dinner tonight.”

Good Lord. What sort of man was he? All I could do was nod, and he walked off with one of the restaurant staff, disappearing from view a moment later.

I could still feel the imprint of his lips on my forehead as I looked around the restaurant, hoping that I wouldn’t see anyone that I recognized.

Everything here was picture perfect, from the pristine white tablecloth to the low lighting. In another life, I would have felt like something special was about to happen if someone had brought me here.

Well, this was sort of special, I guessed. Gavril had me out of the mansion, clearly not at all worried that I was going to slip out of the door when he turned his back.

God! His ego and self-confidence!

I turned my attention back to people watching, my blood freezing in my veins as I noted a familiar face among the tables.

No, not him. Anyone but him.

My throat went dry as a bone, and I forced myself to swallow. I blinked, and the face morphed into someone unfamiliar. Sweet relief flooded through me as I realized it wasn’t Jon at all, but some random man that had seen me staring, his interest piqued.

Forcing my eyes back to the table, I prayed that he wouldn’t come over here.

I was glad it wasn’t Jon. Not because he knew who I was. But because I’d spent years trying to avoid him. And no matter how far I ran, he always found me.

Gavril had asked me if I was afraid of him, and I hadn’t lied. It wasn’t him I was afraid of. He could do all sorts of things to me, and it wouldn’t hold a candle to what Jon had done.

I forced myself to relax and reached out for my glass of water.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

I didn’t dare look up, hoping that my silence and all around ignoring him would make the stranger go away.

“You look familiar. What’s your name? Don’t I know you?”

I certainly didn’t recognize him, but the nervousness still settled in my stomach. What if he did recognize me and started calling out my name?

What would I do then?

My hand flexed against the table, but I forced myself to remain staring at the plate before me, my heart hammering in my ears. He had to leave before Gavril came back, or I was going to be in trouble, likely him thinking that I had somehow brought this upon myself.

“C’mon, gorgeous,” the man tried again, his fingers touching the back of my hand. I flinched at the smoothness of them tracing over my knuckles, revulsion rising in my throat.

What sort of man thought he could touch a woman like that, especially someone who they didn’t even know?

And just then, a hard, familiar voice rang out.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?”