Captured by the Bratva: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bratva Brotherhood Book 2)

by Bianca Cole

  Lyov, if that’s his real name, flings open the door and glares at me. His gaze softens the moment he sees my face. The rage he had in his eyes had been hot and fiery.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he growls.

  I whimper out of fear and try to back toward the wall of the van. It’s impossible, considering I’m tied so tightly by the restraints.

  He steps into the van and shuts the door behind him, making me sick to the stomach. I’m no stranger to the brutality of the bratva. He is an enemy and will treat me as such. I avert my gaze, unable to watch as he approaches me.

  I gasp as he grabs the restraints from the wall and yanks me forward.

  What is he going to do to me?

  A shiver runs down my spine as I wait for him to say something or do something. I expect pain, but instead, his rough hands fumble at the gag, and he unties it.

  I swallow hard, thankful that the gag is no longer restricting me. Although I don’t dare breathe a word.

  “Milana, don’t make me hurt you,” he grits out, shaking his head. “If you obey me, you can sit upfront.”

  His words surprise me. Despite the cold tone of his voice, the fact he’d allow me out of the back of the van isn’t what I expected.

  I nod my head in response, searching his eyes. He is looking at me with that same fiery passion he observed me with in the club. Within seconds, he breaks eye contact and looks anywhere but at me.

  I attempt to stand, but his hand slips around my throat, gripping me tightly and forcing me to meet his hot gaze. “If you disobey me once, you’ll wish you had stayed tied up in the back of this van.” The tone of his voice sends shivers down my spine.

  I believe him. He is part of the bratva and would kill me if his pakhan ordered him to. He lets go of my throat and moves to untie the restraints. Once I’m free, he lifts me effortlessly to my feet.

  For a moment, he remains still, holding me close. So close our breath mingles, and that same electric pulse ignites in the air between us. I lick my bottom lip, which is so damn dry.

  His eyes dip to my lips, and I can feel the tension heightening.

  Despite the fact he kidnapped me, I still want to feel those demanding lips against mine again. His eyes harden, and then he forces me around. The rope grazes against my skin as he ties my hands behind my back. The rope cuts into my skin and is too tight.

  I gasp as he drags me into the passenger’s seat of the van. I watch as he buckles me in, ensuring he doesn’t meet my gaze once.

  I sit back, letting out a deep breath the moment he slams the door to walk to the driver’s side. Once back inside, he turns over the engine without saying a word. He doesn’t look at me.

  I feel my stomach twist with unease. “Where are you taking me?” I ask, my voice shaking.

  “No questions,” he grunts, without glancing my way.

  I sit back in the seat and shut my eyes, accepting it’s probably best to do as he says at the moment. Tied up in a van, I’m never going to be able to escape. Perhaps once we get to where we’re going, I will be able to getaway.

  I swallow hard and stare out of the window as tears prickle my eyes. My father always said I was weak. It looks like he was right. I fell straight into this man’s trap so quickly.

  How stupid I was to think he would want me.

  The man is so utterly handsome and brutal. The lump in my throat hurts as I watch the landscape rush by. I don’t know where we are going or who this man is, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got no power here.

  My mind feels hazy, and my vision isn’t as clear as it usually is. The drugs Lyov pumped me with are still in my system. I can feel the effects of them.

  Shutting my eyes, I lean back in the passenger’s seat. At least this is more comfortable than the cold, metal floor of the back of the van.

  The drone of the engine carries me off into a troubled sleep.

  My neck aches as I wake up, slumped against the van door. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but as I come to my senses, everything hits me at once. My wrists are rubbed raw from the rope tied tightly around them.

  Lyov is staring straight ahead, focusing on the road. I shift in the seat and sit upright, looking out of the window to try and work out where we are. A sign for Chicago catches my attention. We’re only a hundred miles from it, which means we have been out of Florida for a long time.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, wishing I could rub my hand against my aching neck.

  Lyov doesn’t look at me. “No talking.”

  I sigh heavily and glance out of the window, taking in the landscape. Rain is drizzling down in a constant stream, and the clouds in the sky cast a dark grey over the entire land. It’s as depressing as this situation.

  It’s almost impossible to believe that I’d thought Lyov wanted me. He was playing me. I swallow hard, feeling stupid. A man like him never wants a girl like me. I’m nothing special, and I’m certainly no fitness model.

  Although, in the club, there was no doubt he was hard. Maybe that’s how he is with any girl he dances with. I push the thoughts from my mind and steal a glance at my captor. He clenches his jaw tightly as he stares at the road with such intensity.

  “Is your name really Lyov?” I ask.

  His muscles tense, and he grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. A long drawn out silence ensues, and I’m almost certain he has no intention of answering me. “Yes,” he grunts.

  Short answers seem to be his thing. He’s definitely not talkative. It’s hard to believe this is the same man that had been all over me in the club. He’s a good actor. Maybe he chose the wrong line of work.

  “What outfit do you belong to?” I ask, hoping that maybe we could make this a little less dull by chatting.

  “New York,” he grunts.

  Wow, he has no intention of making this more comfortable for me. “I assume your pakhan has instructed you to snatch me over a disagreement with my father?”

  He swerves the van and pulls to an abrupt stop, jerking me forward in the process. His eyes meet mine with such intensity. I can’t understand whether he’s looking at me as if he wants to kill me or fuck me. It is similar to the way he looked at me in the club.

  I swallow hard as he grabs my throat. It shouldn’t ignite need, but it does. Anytime this man is rough and dominant with me, it gets me going like nothing ever has. I lick my bottom lip, which draws his eyes to them. “What are you going to do to me?”

  His eyes flash, and nostrils flare. “Stop talking,” he growls.

  Most women would probably cower away at his tone, but I like it. It’s wrong but true. The need to be claimed by this man is clawing at me, even now.

  “Or what?” I ask.

  He squeezes my throat even harder in a warning. It’s not enough to pose any danger, but it hurts a little. A hurt that makes my need for him increase.

  I’ve always found dominant men attractive but never met one. My first boyfriend was anything but dominant. I get a feeling Lyov knows how to dominate from the way he handles me.

  “Stop, Milana,” he growls, letting go of my throat and returning his hands to the steering wheel.

  He pulls back onto the road and doesn’t look at me, speeding faster than before. I get the feeling he can’t wait to get out of this van.

  My urges toward him are highly questionable. The guy drugged me for fuck’s sake, and I can’t stop thinking about him dominating me. I need to get a handle of myself before I push him too far.

  7

  Lyov

  I pull up at a gas-station about twenty miles from the address of the safe house near Chicago. It’s quiet and out in the middle of nowhere. The perfect place to ensure we don’t draw any unwanted attention. Milana has gone quiet in the passenger’s seat, no longer trying to fight against the restraints.

  It was uncharacteristic of me to take pity on her. When I opened the door to beat her and tell her to shut up, I couldn’t. Not when those bright emerald eyes met mine, full of fire and fear.r />
  She’s a goddess—a Russian goddess who I’d love to have beneath me.

  Her eyes snap to mine, and I avert her gaze, fixing my attention on the road.

  “Where are we?” she asks.

  I grit my teeth together, hating that she’s disobeying my order again. I may have taken pity on her, but I can’t let her believe she has any control in this situation. “No talking,” I growl. “Stay put, and I’ll be back in a moment.”

  “Not sure where you think I’m going to go,” she quips.

  I grab her throat and squeeze hard, forcing her eyes to mine. “I said, no talking.”

  Fear floods her eyes, and she quivers, wincing at the pain of my vice-like grip. She nods her head, and I finally let go.

  Conflict is tearing at me. I don’t want Milana to be scared of me, but I’ve got no choice. She’s my captive, and I’m her captor. It’s simple. She does as I say until she gets to go back to her father—if she gets to go back to her father.

  I grit my teeth. Andrei could ring me and order her execution at any point. The mere thought of harming her makes my stomach twist with unease. More often than not, that’s how this sort of shit goes down in the bratva. Loved ones die if you make a play for someone else’s territory. She will be collateral damage.

  I can’t even think of hurting her, which makes no fucking sense. This is what I do. I torture, beat, and, if needed, execute our enemies.

  Milana may be innocent, but she’s guilty by association. She’s on the other side of the war — a daughter of a man who is trying to take down our brotherhood.

  I grab the fuel pump and shove it into the van, tapping my foot on the floor.

  This place is deserted, but I don’t like stopping with her on view, even if we are back on our turf. Veselov has been increasingly aggressive in our territory. Any asshole from his brotherhood could spot her and give us away.

  The geeky, middle-aged cashier with glasses is watching us out of the window. I hate the way he stares at Milana. He’s a dirty, fucking pervert.

  The possessiveness rising inside of me is ridiculous and not rooted in a traditional captive and captor relationship. I want to own her in every way.

  I can’t deny that the image of her on her knees, stark naked, tied up and sucking my cock has been on repeat since I let her sit next to me.

  Asking her to dance at the club had seemed like a good plan at the time. It made perfect sense to get her away from her bodyguard. Once she was pressed up against me, and her sweet scent filled the air around me, I lost it.

  She hypnotized me with the way she moved and how good it felt to her body pressed against mine. Then she kissed me, and all reasoning flew out of the window. I’d forgotten what I was doing. I’d forgotten my damn name.

  If it hadn’t been for her suggesting we got out of there when we did, her bodyguard would have thwarted the entire plan. I can’t think straight around her.

  I’m never one to get distracted, especially not by women—not after Liliana. Another has not tempted me since her. How ridiculous is it that the first women to catch my interest is my captive. Maybe that’s just because I’m sick — a broken man who shouldn’t go near a sweet, innocent girl like her.

  Anyone that goes near me gets killed anyway. Milana would be no different. Once the tank is full, I set the fuel pump back and march for the station to pay the pervert, who is still staring at my captive.

  I step into the station, and he still doesn’t take his eyes off of her. Rage bubbles inside of me and I can feel my control slipping. “What the fuck are you staring at,” I growl, as I get up to the counter.

  The guy glances at me and then pales. “N-nothing.”

  I slam my hand down on the counter. “Bullshit. I saw you staring at my woman ever since we pulled up here.” I grab him by the collar and pull him over the cashier. “I wouldn’t fucking stare at what is mine if I were you.”

  He turns so pale that I’m sure he’s about to piss himself. “Of course,” he splutters.

  I let him go, and he drops back into his chair, clutching at his throat. The guy is a fucking coward. He should know better than to stare at a woman with a man like me.

  I grab a few candy bars and some chips before chucking three twenties down on the counter and turning to leave.

  Assaulting a cashier while I’m trying to be discreet is kind of the opposite, but Milana makes me crazy. No one can look at her because she’s mine. I shake my head. I can’t be thinking like that. She belongs to my brotherhood now, until I’m instructed by Andrei otherwise.

  I get into the driver’s side of the van. Her stunning green eyes fix on me. “Why did you grab the cashier like that?” she asks.

  I grit my teeth together. There’s no way I’m telling her why—because I hate any other man looking at her. Instead, I grunt in response and turn the engine over.

  I chuck her the chips and candy bars. “Eat,” I order, before pulling the van out of the gas station quickly, speeding down the road toward our destination.

  “Are you ever going to speak to me or just grunt and throw things at me?”

  God damn it. Milana knows how to push my fucking buttons. Does she want me to hurt her? I think the more important question is, could I? Instead of looking at her, I keep my eyes forward and say nothing. I won’t bend to her will and answer.

  “Fine, the silent treatment it is.”

  I see her cross her arms over her chest from the corner of my eye. This whole situation is fucked up and wrong. Milana is my prisoner. Yet, she’s the one who is having the last word. I can’t even find it in myself to say anything.

  Every time I snap, the fear in her eyes makes me feel guilty. It’s stupid. I’ve done far worse things, and never felt guilty. “Stop mouthing off, or I’ll make you sorry you didn’t stay in the back of the van,” I grunt.

  She tenses by my side. Finally, I think I’m getting through to her.

  “I wouldn’t mouth off if you told me what the fuck was happening.”

  Fuck’s sake. I slam on the brakes, swerving to the side of the road. Milana can’t keep pushing me like this, but everything I do doesn’t get through to her. This time, when I grab her throat, I mean it. The strength of my grip makes it difficult for her to breathe.

  Her eyes fill with fear as she stares at me—shocked.

  ‘What the fuck is confusing about this situation?” I ask, not expecting an answer.

  “You,” she gasps.

  I let go of her throat. “Explain,” I growl.

  She licks her bottom lip, making my cock stir to attention. “One minute I’m bound and gagged, and the next, you let me sit in the van. You haven’t laid a hand on me or hurt me, so it’s hard to believe the threat.” Her eyes are flickering with fire.

  She’s right. I’ve not backed up my threats with my actions, and I can’t. The thought of hurting her makes me angry. I turn my attention back to the road and shift into gear, pulling away from the side of it without another word.

  I can feel her eyes on me, but I don’t meet her gaze. This is situation is very bad. I’m her captor, and I’m supposed to hurt, intimidate, and torture her.

  I’d never harm her. I know that with certainty. What I’m supposed to do and what I want to do are so conflicting. All I want to do is claim her as my own and protect her from this world.

  It could change the course of my life and hers so drastically. Andrei is a fair pakhan, but I’m not sure my disobedience would be something he could overlook. If he orders me to hurt her, I won’t be able to do it.

  The main question is, what choice will we have? I have nowhere to go and no connections other than within the brotherhood. If I defy my pakhan it would be a death sentence for both of us, but hurting Milana goes against every instinct.

  8

  Milana

  Lyov takes a dirt track, leaving the main road for the first time. I glance at him, but he keeps his eyes firmly fixed ahead. He has barely looked at me since we left the gas station. The track w
eaves between thick trees and woodland.

  Finally, a deserted cabin comes into view. I never thought I’d die like this. My father’s work has always been dangerous, but I’ve been unaffected by it. For the first time in my life, I’m in real danger.

  Lyov stops the van and then glances at me. A conflict is warring in his beautiful blue eyes. I wonder whether he wants to do this. He seduced me, drugged me, and kidnapped me. I know how to pick them.

  He says nothing and gets out of the van, walking to my side. “Out,” he barks.

  The coldness of his tone sends a shiver down my spine. I had sensed danger when I looked into his eyes at the club. He’s a brutal bratva brother who isn’t controlled by my father. Anytime I ask a question, he ignores me.

  I get a feeling if I don’t watch my mouth, Lyov will punish me.

  A tingle runs down my spine right to my core at the thought. I’ve always been attracted to dominant men and like the idea of a man who isn’t afraid of spanking me or tying me up. I get a feeling Lyov wouldn’t bat an eyelid at doing either of those things. He’s already tied me up, after all.

  I clench my thighs together as he grabs my arms and drags me toward the cabin. I also get the feeling that Lyov is more likely to hurt me than take me to bed. We may have met under different circumstances, but that electric connection between us is gone. He doused the fire the moment he drugged and kidnapped me.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I ask, finally fed up with the silent treatment.

  Sure, he has kidnapped me—he is in control, but at least tell me what the fuck is going on.

  He jerks me to a stop and grabs my hips, pulling me into him. “What did I say about keeping your mouth shut?” he growls.

  The way he holds me makes me melt. I know how fucked up it is. This guy is treating me like shit, but that spark I felt in the club is still there. It flickers between us on and off. He’s trying to shut it down, but it’s there.