The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms 1)

This is so wrong. So terribly, wickedly wrong.

We’re on our way to say our vows, and a man who tried to hurt me lies dead.

“What was that about?” I ask, still trembling. Kazimir’s staring away from me when he answers.

“It was a man I’ve known since my childhood,” he says. “He cannot enter my apartment, and must’ve scaled the side of the building to get to the hall. Maksym will secure the hall windows more thoroughly. Demyan will review the safety footage. The man must’ve seen the news of our wedding, and decided it was a good time to seek his revenge.”

If the man has heard of our wedding, it suddenly dawns on me that I’m the only one who didn’t know about this.

Hell, the timeframe has passed so quickly, I realize that I was likely brought here for this very purpose.

“You brought me here to marry me,” I say. “You’ve been planning this all along.”

He doesn’t deny it, but when he turns to me, his gaze softens.

“Sadie, you’re trembling like a frightened kitten.”

I shake my head, fruitlessly trying to deny it. “I—I’m fine,” I say, but my teeth chatter so badly I can hardly talk. He hasn’t pushed the button on the elevator yet, and I wonder what he’s waiting for. “We have to go,” I tell him. “Aren’t you going to take us downstairs?”

With a nod, he hits the first-floor button before he turns to me and pulls me to his chest. “Sweet girl,” he says softly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Nothing to be afraid of? There’s everything to be afraid of.

“Why would you say such a thing?” I ask. “You just murdered a man in front of my very eyes. A man who was so filled with rage at you, that he was prepared to murder your bride. It seems all of Russia knows about our wedding but me. And you say there’s nothing to be afraid of?”

“Sadie,” he says, shaking his head. He draws me to his chest, and despite my reluctance, I let myself be comforted by him. After all, I just witnessed an execution. When he pulls me to his chest, I close my eyes and inhale. He smells so damn good, so strong and masculine and clean. He should smell rancid, with the blood of another man on his hands like that. But it doesn’t work that way.

“I’m here to keep you safe,” he tells me. “I’m sorry you had to see me do that, but that man would have hurt you, and I had no choice but to do what I did. Now, prepare for what happens next.”

“No need to reschedule?” I ask. “A man just ambushed us out of nowhere, and you’re prepared to just go on as usual?”

“Of course.” He still holds me against his chest. “There is no reason for anyone to have a thing to talk about. You were supposed to be married to me today and that’s exactly what will happen.”

I don’t have time to respond as the elevator doors open to the large room he took me when we ate dinner with Dimitri last night.

Last night? Was it that recently? At home, my days ran into weeks and months, one much like the rest. Here, it seems as if we march to the beat of a different time. Years have passed since that dinner yesterday, eons since the dinner we ate together in America.

“Smile, Sadie,” he says. “Just smile.”

I paste a fake smile on my face and trot to keep up with his massive strides. When we come into the center of the room, the crowd around us erupts into cheers.

“Kazimir,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

“Just smile,” he says.Chapter SeventeenKazimirI don’t like how she pulls away from me in this room, how even when she takes my arm she’s detached and distant, as if she’s retreating into herself now. I hate that. I want to bring that sweet, soft, submissive side of her out again. I can make her obey me. Hell, I can make her take vows to me and become my wife. But I can’t bring out the sweet softness about her. That’s something only Sadie can do.

This should be monumental. Dimitri stands as our witness, like the father I never had. I’ve done many things in my role. I’ve ended the lives of those who deserved death for what they’d done. I’ve trained women, broken men, coaxed powerful people to trust us when they never should have. I’ve stolen and plundered, ravaged and destroyed. But now Sadie holds in front of me what I want but can’t demand, coerce, or force: her adoration. Her respect. Hell, her trust.

So when we say our vows, it means nothing to me. When I slip the slim golden band around her finger and kiss her pretty mouth, I feel like an actor. This isn’t who I am, and it certainly isn’t who she is. These are mere roles we play.