Claimed by the Bratva: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bratva Brotherhood Book 3) Page 5
I swallow hard and open the truck door, getting out and walking toward him. “That was close.”
Miron nods his head. “You did good, though. I’m proud of you for hiding.” The glint in his eyes sets my soul on fire. It’s a little pathetic how much hearing him tell me he’s proud of me brightens my day. To be honest, he’s the first and only person to utter those words to me ever.
“Thanks,” I say, glancing down at the floor to break the tension between us. That’s when I see Makar lying with a busted up nose on the tarmac. “He doesn’t deserve this,” I say.
Miron steps toward me and grabs my hand, forcing my attention to him. “No, he doesn’t, but you most certainly don’t deserve to be subjected to a marriage with Dima Veselov.”
I swallow hard. “Once my father realizes that he let us get away, he will probably kill him.”
A sadness ignites in Miron’s eyes. It’s the first emotion I’ve genuinely seen in them before. He’s so often hiding behind a wall of steel. The strong, unmoving man who can’t be touched. It seems he cares more than it appears on the outside. “Possibly, but we can’t do anything about it. If he has any sense, he’ll run.”
I watch as Miron drags his body toward a truck and sits up against it, finding some rope to tie his hands together. “What are you doing?”
Miron meets my gaze. “I can’t risk him alerting them too soon of our escape.” His fingers slip into Makar’s jacket, pulling out his cell phone. Miron drops it on the floor and smashes it to pieces beneath his feet. “This should buy us some time.”
I nod in reply, hoping Makar has the sense to run when he realizes what happened.
“We need to go,” Miron says, his voice turning cold.
I stare at Makar’s lifeless body slumped against the truck for a few moments more, before turning away. It feels wrong to leave him like that, but we’ve got no choice. If we take him with us, he may not accept Miron’s intention to save me from Dima. The risk is too high.
“Do you want me to drive?” I ask, pausing with my hand on the top of the car.
Miron shakes his head. “No, get in,” he orders.
I sigh heavily, wishing he’d let me help. Miron has been driving for hours. I get into the Cadillac and rest my head back against the headrest. Our journey isn’t going to be easy. I can’t believe my father’s men found us so quickly.
Miron starts the car and pulls out of the garage, turning left and back onto the main road.
“It won’t be long until they realize what has happened, will it?” I ask, not daring to glance at him. I can’t seem to control my reactions to him, and keeping my eyes off him helps.
“No,” he replies.
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth, wishing he would fill the silence. “What are we going to do?”
Miron’s hazel eyes cut to me, and I meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, Sofia. I’ll die before they take you back.”
My stomach flips, and my heart skips a beat. It’s such an intense sentiment, one that touches me deep within. He holds my gaze, and the promise lingers between us.
Why would he sacrifice his life to save me?
A twinge of hope ignites again—to be honest, it never extinguished. It’s impossible to douse it whenever I look into his eyes. I long for this man so much it hurts.
It’s not the only thing that hurts. The guilt I feel that Miron has had to turn his whole world upside down just to save me from a marriage I don’t want is immense.
“You risk too much,” I mutter, wishing I could express my true feelings to him.
He shakes his head. “I risk nothing.” He focuses on the road ahead, saying nothing more.
It’s strange to suggest he risks nothing after pledging he’d die before they took me. His life is precious—especially to me. I couldn’t live with myself if he came to harm all to save me from Dima Veselov.
The tension between us is palpable after the heavy conversation. I decide to turn some music on, hoping it will expel the tense atmosphere.
Miron grabs my hand, and my entire body sets on fire. “I told you. I control the stereo.”
The dominance of his tone sends a shiver down my spine. He doesn’t let go of my hand right away, and it only increases the tension. In my mind, the tension feels sexual, but I’m not sure if I’m reading that wrong.
He drops my hand and fiddles with the stereo, putting on a station playing older music. I sit back in my seat, watching him as he focuses on the road. It doesn’t take much from him to get me going. The longer I’m with him, the more I long for him. It’s already becoming impossible to endure.
I don’t even know where we are going yet. All I can hope is we’re not confined to this car long. Otherwise, I know I’m going to make a fool of myself.
7
Miron
I’m exhausted. We’ve only just made it into Denver, and we’ve got a long fucking road ahead. I glance over at Sofia, who is fast asleep in the passenger’s seat. She’s the most innocent, pure angel, and I’m the opposite. My love for her is the only pure thing about me, and even that is dangerous.
I’m not a good man. Sofia deserves a man who can keep her out of harm way. A man who isn’t tied to a life of crime.
It hurt her to leave Makar there, knowing his fate would probably be unbearable to think of. I wince as I consider him being fed to Amari by her father. It’s something he loves to do to brotherhood members that disappoint him.
Makar was one of the good guys in our brotherhood, although none of us are good. We’re all criminals, but he wasn’t one of the terrible ones. Yov, on the other hand, I would have relished knocking his ass to the ground. I still may have to yet.
I’m sure Sofia would have heard him referring to my sister as a whore—no one knows who the woman is that I visit now and then where she lives in a small town not far from here. It was the reason I chose this garage to swap vehicles, knowing I’d have a damn good cover story.
I’ve kept the truth under wraps all these years, but I couldn’t stop the rumors spreading. All I can hope is that Sofia doesn’t read too much into it. She’s never asked me about my personal life.
They’ve seen this vehicle at the garage. Although they will be behind me, their bikes are faster. I’ve been battling with a decision for over an hour, wondering whether I should go off course and take the back roads. At the same time, I know it will add at least ten hours to our journey.
As I bypass Denver, I know I’ve got to make a decision. It’s last-minute as I swerve out of my lane, cutting some guy up. He beeps his horn, startling Sofia awake.
“What is it?” she asks, sitting bolt upright.
“Sorry, I cut a guy up. I decided to take the non-highway route.”
Her eyes widen. “That will take a lot longer.”
I shrug. “It’s less risky. Hopefully, your father’s men won’t be able to follow.”
“Are you going to let me drive yet?” Sofia asks, innocently.
I clench my jaw. The thought of falling asleep while her father’s men may be pursuing her on the road makes me sick. “I can’t risk it.”
“What is there to risk?”
I risk a sideways glance at her, and she’s staring up at me with her big, blue, innocent eyes. Her lips pursed together in a stubborn line. I feel myself react to one damn look at her like that. It’s ridiculous. “Have you ever been in a car chase?”
Her determination drains as she shakes her head. “No.”
“Exactly. I can’t risk you being the one driving when your father’s men catch up with us.”
“When? Don’t you mean if?”
I swallow hard. I wish I meant if, but the likelihood of us making it to New York without them catching us is slim to none. Yov may be an asshole, but he’s smart. He will know who I’m going to, and he will cover all avenues.
There are a handful of routes you can take from Colorado to New York. He will split his team and cover all of them until he finds us.
“Miron?” Sofia asks, voice uncertain.
“No, I mean when, Sofia.”
She bites her bottom lip in a way that makes me harder in my pants.
I keep my eyes off my crotch, hoping she doesn’t notice the bulge. “Yov isn’t stupid. He will cover all routes.”
I yawn widely, feeling the effects of driving over sixteen hours without a real break. We’re not even half-way to New York, and I know I’m going to have to stop at a motel for an hour or two to recharge. Any longer, and we risk getting caught on Luka’s territory.
Once we cross the border into another brotherhood’s area, they won’t be able to attack us so freely. The problem is, we’re at least a ten-hour drive to Missouri, which is run by Andrei.
“You need to sleep, though, Miron,” Sofia says.
I nod, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck. “I do, but I want to push on for another hour or two.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t protest. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and stares out at the barren land rushing past the car. An uneasy silence falls between us. We both know how much danger we are in. I just hope somehow we make it over the border without them finding us.
I take a beaten track off the main road, following a worn-out sign for a guest house. Hopefully, it’s still there. My one or two hour push has turned into three hours, but at least we’re closer to Missouri.
Sofia awoke the moment I pulled off the main road, but she hasn’t questioned where we are.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She glances at me. “Yes.” She fiddles with the heart pendant around her neck. “I just wish you didn’t have to put yourself in danger to save me.”
I smile, shaking my head. “I don’t have to, but I want to,” I say, navigating down the dirt track. As we get further down, I spot the guest house up ahead. It’s an old, rundown place. “This looks promising,” I say.
“Does it?” Sofia asks, frowning at the rundown house ahead of us.
I laugh, forgetting how used to luxury this woman is. Her father may not have cared for her the way he should have, but she never wanted for anything. Money is his answer to everything. “Hopefully it is still operational. This is the kind of place Yov might not even notice.”
I pull through the gates into the driveway, which is overgrown with weeds. An elderly lady glances out of the window. Before we can even get out of the vehicle, she’s standing at the door.
“Welcome,” she calls as soon as I’m out of the car.
Before I get Sofia’s luggage out of the trunk, I walk toward her. “Good evening, do you have a room for us?” I ask.
She nods her head, clapping her hands together. “Of course, we’ve got rooms available.”
Considering there’s only an old mustang parked in the drive, I get a feeling we’re the only guests here. “Perfect. I’ll get our luggage. We need a room for the night.”
She nods her head, glancing over at Sofia, who is still lingering by the car. “Lovely, is that your daughter?”
I clench my jaw, hating that she would suggest such a thing. To be fair, I am old enough to be her father, but I’m a few years younger than Luka. “No.”
“Oh,” she says, her expression turning disapproving. “Well, come in when you are ready.” She disappears back into the house. From the glance inside, it looks like it was decorated over four decades ago.
Sofia still lingers by the car. “Is there a room?”
“Yeah, I’ll grab your bag.” I pop the trunk and grab her huge carryall, passing her my bag since it’s way lighter.
We’re both used to living very different lives. She has never wanted for anything, and despite having riches since finding my place beside Luka, I’ve lived a simple life. Despite our differences, I can’t stop falling deeper for her the more time we spend together. “Come on.”
I only bought the essentials in my bag and a couple of items I couldn’t part with. My favorite flogger being one of them, but I know the real reason I bought it—the thought of using it on Sofia makes me crazy. Despite my pure intentions for saving her, a deep and twisted desire still rules me. A desire to own, claim, and dominate the woman I love.
I lead the way into the house, glancing around at the old decor. Despite the age of the furnishings, it’s clean and fresh.
The owner of the house stands by the stairs. “Are you ready? I’ll show you up.” She pauses on the first step. “By the way, it’s fifty dollars a night, and that does need to be paid in cash on arrival.”
I nod, digging out a wedge of cash from my inside jacket pocket. I grab three twenties and pass them to her. “There you go, keep the change.”
She raises an eyebrow at the wedge of cash, before tucking it into her jeans pocket. “Thank you. Follow me.” She leads the way up the stairs to the first floor and down the end of the corridor to a room. “This is the best room in the house I rent out. I hope you like it. It’s en-suite.” She opens the door to a relatively airy and bright room.
“This is perfect,” I say.
“Good,” she claps her hands. “I’ll leave you to settle in.” The door slams behind her, and it’s only at that moment, I realize there’s just one super-king bed. The sofa is tiny and I groan internally thinking about sleeping on it. There’s no way I’m letting Sofia sleep on it.
“I’ll take the sofa,” I say, setting Sofia’s bag down on the floor and taking mine from her. The last thing I’d want is for her to see the contents of mine.
Sofia shakes her head. “No way. I’m much smaller, and it will be fine for me.”
I clench my jaw and turn my back to her, dropping my bag onto the sofia. “Sofia, don’t question me. I won’t have you sleeping on a sofa.” I flop down onto the couch, which is way too small for me. She is right. I’m six foot five, and she’s about five-six. It’s crazy for me to try and fit on here.
There’s a pulse of silence, and I wonder if she’s given up. “Miron, the bed is large,” she says quietly.
I turn my face toward her, noticing she’s inched closer to me. Her cheeks stain red as she holds my gaze. “Why don’t we share it? There’s more than enough space,” she says.
My cock reacts, thickening instantly in my tight boxer briefs. Her beautiful, bright blue eyes flicker with such fire, and I feel the shock right to my balls. Sofia is flirting with danger—literally.
I stare at her for an eternity, unable to speak. It’s as if her invitation to share the bed has broken my mind. Despite being tired as hell, the thought of getting under the covers with her sets my entire body on fire. I’m wound up too tightly, and anything could set me off if I were to get into bed with her.
I know it’s a bad idea, but I’m on the brink of saying yes.
8
Sofia
Tension swirls through the air like a thick cloud of smoke as he holds my gaze. The question I’d just asked hanging between us awkwardly.
Did it come off in the wrong way?
All I did was ask him to take the bed. When he refused, I asked him to at least share it, as there is enough space. It feels like hours have ticked by since I spoke those words. His hazel eyes are burning with indecision as he stares at me.
“That would be a terrible idea, Sofia,” he mumbles, trying to get into a better position on the sofa.
“At least let me sleep on the sofa. I’m about half your size,” I protest.
He sighs heavily, holding a hand to his forehead.
“Not to mention, I’m the one who has slept most the damn journey anyway.” I set my hands on my hips, trying to seem authoritative, which is laughable with Miron here. He’s the one in charge, not me.
He glances at me before nodding.
I smile, feeling victorious that he finally agreed to take the bed.
He walks past me, closer than I expect. The masculine
scent of him overwhelms my sense as I turn to watch him walk toward the bed. My whole body heats as he lifts his shirt over his head, revealing his perfect abs and chiseled chest. The two sleeves of tattoos running down both of his arms fully visible to me now. I’ve always had a weakness for men with tattoos, particularly Miron.
I almost die when his fingers go to the belt around his pants. It’s at that point I realize I need to stop staring. Instead, I turn my back on him and walk over to the sofa. The heat imbuing every particle of my body is fiery and impossible to tame. I hate that he refused to share the bed with me. I flop down onto it, wincing at how hard and lumpy it is.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Miron asks.
I glance at him, and he’s wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxer briefs. My eyes fix on the outline of his bulge, feeling my whole body freeze in shock. I can’t think. I can’t speak. All I can do is stare.
“Sofia, what is wrong? Have you never seen a guy in boxer briefs before?”
I bring my eyes to his, getting hotter and hotter by the second. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was about to combust. All I do is shake my head like a damn idiot. “Sorry.” I avert my gaze and turn back toward the sofa.
“I’m not having you sleep on the sofa. Get in the bed,” he orders.
Fuck.
If I thought I was hot a moment ago, I feel myself begin to burn up. The thought of actually getting into bed with Miron in only his boxer briefs makes my imagination run wild. It doesn’t help that he sounds so dominant, telling me to get into bed.
“Now,” he says, voice deep.
I pull myself up from the sofa and try to infuse confidence in every step I take. Each step brings me closer to the bed and his naked body. Deliberately, I keep my eyes on anything but him. One glance in the mirror on the wall as I pass tells me I’m as red as a fucking tomato. It’s so embarrassing.
Miron gets under the sheets before me, allowing me some reprieve. It’s at that moment that I realize the only nightwear I packed was my sheer, see-through slip. What the hell had I been thinking?