Chapter 7

POV ILYA KRAVTSOV

I had a damn girl lying on the bed who was supposed to be mine for an entire night.

A trafficked girl. One who was going to be sold.

Eighteen years old. Just a little older than Tasha.

I had always known, ever since I held my little sister in my arms, that one day she would be bargained into marriage with someone relevant to our family. Someone important within the Bratva, most likely, or from another mafia that could form a favorable alliance.

What was the difference between my sister and that girl besides a few years? Just like Alejandra, Tasha would be "sold," only in a more elitist way. The entire negotiation would take place with her present, in the middle of events, among elegantly dressed people, with champagne, but Natasha would have no say in choosing her own husband. Something I hated, but that Kolya would carry forward.

I glanced at the sleeping girl on the bed, surprised that she had actually managed to rest after seeming so agitated. Exhaustion had probably knocked her out, her dark hair spread across the pillow.

It wasn’t hard to understand why she had been chosen for that fate. Not only was her obvious beauty enough to have caught Pavel’s attention, but also the fire in those golden eyes.

Lynx eyes.

She was tall, yet her head barely reached my chin. She was quite skinny—which wasn’t surprising, considering she had lived as a prisoner—and despite likely having little exposure to sunlight, her skin had the naturally bronzed tone of Latinas.

Her brown hair was long and straight, and her lips were...

Damn, they were incredibly tempting. Slightly parted as she breathed in her sleep, they could drive a man insane.

Beyond her striking beauty, she had a strong temperament. A sense of survival, self-preservation, and she never bowed her head submissively. I knew I was intimidating, that a woman like her might be afraid—and of course, she was, but she held her ground.

She was only eighteen. Fifteen years younger than me, at thirty-three. Just a girl, and she had already been through so much.

I didn’t understand why Pavel had to choose a bride this way. I knew the Bratva wasn’t on good terms with the Cartel, that maybe Ramón Morales, the “jefe,” wouldn’t agree to hand over one of his girls from good families to a Russian, but still, there was a lot I needed to find out.

Keeping my eyes on the girl, I moved away as much as possible, grabbed my phone, and called Nikolai. My brother needed to explain a few things I still didn’t know.

"Where the hell have you been, Ilya?" was the first thing he asked when he answered, after only one ring.

"I sent a message to Pavel saying I was going to rest before returning, but he didn’t see it. The problem is that things have changed a bit." My voice took on a less friendly tone. "Why the hell didn’t you tell me the package was a girl?"

"What?" Kolya sounded surprised as well.

So he didn’t know? Why would Pavel keep a secret from his own advisor?

"What are you talking about, Ilya?"

I ended the call without much explanation. Turning my phone toward the bed, I took a picture of Alejandra and sent it to him.

As soon as I saw that he had read the message, I called again.

"I'm talking about this. Her name is Alejandra. What do you know about her?"

"Alejandra Zavala?"

"I have no idea."

"If it's her, she's Pavel's fiancée."

"She doesn’t look like a fiancée—she looks like a slave. The girl was trafficked! There’s no way you didn’t know that!" I growled, trying to keep my voice to a whisper so I wouldn’t wake her.

"I didn’t know! He never told me the full nature of this marriage. I only knew he had chosen a girl, but she wasn’t eighteen yet; he had to wait. He said everything had been settled with her family."

"Family, my ass. With her captors. I received a box that looked more like a coffin, and when I opened it, she was inside, chained up, scared like a little rabbit."

My brother remained silent on the other end of the line, and as furious as I was, I gave him time. I knew the information was hard to swallow, that he needed to process how serious the situation was, but his reaction surprised me. In a bad way.

"Don’t do anything reckless, Ilya. Bring the girl as planned, and we’ll sort things out afterward."

"What?" I spat the question in disgust. "You can’t be suggesting that the best option is to hand this girl over to Pavel."

"When you arrive, we’ll talk. We can speak to him, try to make him see how wrong this is..."

"Go to hell, Kolya!" I interrupted him, feeling my head explode. I started pacing back and forth, completely restless.

This didn’t make sense. This wasn’t my brother talking. Not the honorable man I knew.

"We’re talking about an eighteen-year-old woman! Not an object. How can you expect me to hand her over like she’s merchandise?"

"It’s none of our business, Ilya!" he growled back, clearly frustrated. He had been on edge lately, which made me wonder how far he had been pushing his limits to protect the family.

"How is it not my business? How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing I was responsible for this?"

"Fuck it. Come home. Bring the girl. Here, we can protect her. We’ll take her to Pavel and present our conditions."

He might have been reasonable. It was a much better plan than simply disappearing with the girl and becoming a traitor.

A renegade.

I knew what could happen and the kind of shame it would bring to my family.

Even so, I glanced at the girl again, just as she turned over in bed, snuggling in, looking relaxed. The sheet covering her slid down, exposing part of her thigh, and her dress had ridden up.

I imagined Pavel placing his hands there without permission. Torturing her—because I knew he was sadistic enough for that. Hurting her, marking her, traumatizing her forever.

There had to be Mexican girls who would want to marry him. At least the Russian girls talked about him and were interested in becoming the wife of the head of Russia’s biggest organization. He was so powerful that he was considered a great catch, even though he wasn’t exactly handsome or particularly kind.

The problem was that none of the women who sighed over him and the chance to become the boss’s wife knew the monster he truly was.

"I can’t let this happen, Kolya. She’s just a girl. Like Tasha," I said, my voice softer—not just hoping to convince him, but also so he would understand my reasons.

Without even realizing it, I had already made my decision.

I thought Kolya would condemn me, say he would send men after me, but all I heard was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line.

"If you think an unknown girl is worth more than your position in the Bratva, then run. But run far. We never had this conversation. And know that you’ll have to become a renegade to me as well. As far as anyone else is concerned, I did not approve of what you're about to do."

"And do you approve, by any chance?"

I needed to know.

Damn, no matter how often we clashed, Kolya’s opinion still mattered to me.

He was my older brother. A man I admired; someone who had proven his loyalty to the pakhan in a way that allowed him to climb the ranks and take the position our father once held.

All of Russia could turn its back on me, but not my brothers.

"I will always love you, brother. You know that. But you have the right to your choice, and I have the right to mine. I can’t say if what you’re doing is right, and I have to turn my back on you. You need to leave where you are as soon as possible, because I can guess your location, and I will report you. But I’ll give you time to escape. Even though I hate this with every fiber of my being." He paused and sighed. "But... Ostavaytes' v mire."

I swallowed hard, fully understanding the weight of that last phrase. "Go in peace." It was a farewell. The most he could do for me.

I wanted to say something. I couldn’t ask for more than he was already giving me, no matter how cruel it might seem to anyone else. But if this really was a goodbye, it was too final to let it pass unnoticed.

The call ended, and I looked once more at the sleeping girl.

I barely knew her. I had no idea who she was, whether her story was real or fabricated. But I had seen her locked inside that box, and the fear she had shown upon seeing me was not fake.

Shit!

I was heading down a very dangerous path for a girl whose name was the only thing I knew about her. Betraying my pakhan, betraying my organization.

Not that I agreed with the kind of leadership he provided. Not that I even liked him much as a person or as a boss. I probably just needed the right push.

With that in mind, I decided not to look back and walked over to the girl, touching her arm as gently as possible.

I didn’t want to wake her abruptly, but we needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Her eyes shot open, once again startled to see me, and—holy shit! What eyes she had.

"What is it?" she asked, startled.

"We need to go. Now."

I considered the possibility that she wouldn’t obey me, but Alejandra jumped out of bed.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I’m going to protect you. I won’t hand you over to the pakhan. But you need to follow my instructions."

She had better, because from this moment on, it was the two of us against the entire Bratva.