Hunted & Bred by the Bratva: Chapter 6

The flight back from Chicago feels endless, turbulence rattling the private jet and my teeth every time I try to close my eyes. Two days of cleaning up a massive fuck-up. Shipments rerouted, ledgers rebalanced, three different shell companies restructured to keep the feds from sniffing around our import business. My phone buzzes against my thigh, and I pull it out expecting another crisis.

My blood turns to ice water. I stare at the message, reading it twice, three times, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something less infuriating.

Perl. With another man.

While I’ve been across the country fixing problems, she’s been having dinner with someone else.

I text him back.

The plane can’t land fast enough. I grip the armrest, knuckles white, watching the city lights blur past the window. She should know better than this.

I have made it very clear that she belongs to me. Both with words and public claiming. And I was very clear with Senator Gahr about my expectations when I gave him another hefty check. Perl belongs to me now, whether or not she likes it.

The cab ride from the airport takes forty-three minutes. I count every one of them, jaw clenched, thinking about what I’m going to say. What I’m going to do.

Is she testing me, seeing how far she can push before I push back?

She’s about to find out.

Meridian sits on the corner of Second and Fir, all glass and steel, the kind of place that serves twenty-dollar cocktails and calls them artisanal. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I can see them. Perl wears a navy dress with a too-low neckline, hair loose around her shoulders. She leans across the table toward a man in a charcoal suit. He’s gesturing with his wineglass, making her laugh.

Making her laugh.

I stand on the sidewalk for thirty seconds, watching them through the glass. She looks relaxed, happy even. That’s not how she was with me in the coffee shop.

Her shoulders aren’t tense.

Her smile isn’t forced.

She’s being herself with him, whoever he is, and that makes something savage twist in my chest.

The hostess tries to stop me at the door, but I brush past her, and walk straight to their table.

Perl sees me first, her face going white, wine glass frozen halfway to her lips. The man, fucking Connor, follows her gaze and turns in his chair.

‘Rik,’ Perl breathes. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Having dinner,’ I say as I pull out an empty chair from a nearby table and sit down. ‘Hope you don’t mind the company.’

Connor frowns, glancing between us. ‘I’m sorry, do we know each other?’

‘Rik Kedrov,’ I say, extending my hand. ‘Perl’s boyfriend.’

Perl’s eyes flash. ‘We’re not⁠—’

‘Yes, we are,’ I finish for her, keeping my voice level, pleasant even, but there’s steel underneath.

I reach out a hand, and Connor shakes it, his grip uncertain. ‘Connor Harker,’ he says. ‘I work with Perl on the senator’s campaign.’

‘Ah. Work.’ I lean back in my chair, studying him. Younger than me, early-thirties, expensive watch, soft hands. The kind of man who’s never had to fight for anything in his life. ‘And you always take coworkers to dinner?’

‘We’re discussing work,’ Perl says quickly. ‘Connor was just⁠—’

‘Asking Perl about the next fundraiser,’ Connor interrupts with a smile. ‘But I was about to ask her if she’d go out with me. There’s no ring on her finger, so I assumed she’s available.’

My jaw tightens as a familiar heat rises in my chest. ‘She’s not.’

Perl sets down her wineglass hard. ‘Excuse me?’

I look at her, really look at her. The navy dress is expensive. Her makeup is perfect, her hair styled. She dressed up for him. Put effort into looking beautiful for another man.

The thought makes my vision blur at the edges.

‘We need to talk,’ I say, standing up. ‘Now.’

‘I’m in the middle of dinner.’

‘Now, Perl.’

The restaurant has gone quiet around us. Other diners pretend not to stare while obviously listening. Connor leans forward. “Listen, you can’t just come in here and⁠—”

I hold up a hand to interrupt him and stare down at my girl.

Perl’s cheeks burn red, but she stands, smoothing down her dress. ‘Excuse me,’ she murmurs to Connor. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘Actually,’ I say, pulling out my wallet and dropping two hundreds on the table, ‘dinner’s over. Thanks for keeping her company, Connor.’

He blusters something, but I take Perl’s elbow, guiding her toward the door. She jerks away from my touch but follows, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. The hostess watches us leave with wide eyes.

The night air is cool, a relief after the stuffy restaurant. Perl whirls on me the second we’re outside.

‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ she hisses. ‘You can’t just⁠—’

‘Can’t what? Check on my girlfriend?

‘I’m not your girlfriend.’ She stomps her foot.

‘Your uncle seems to think otherwise.’ I cross my arms, leaning against the building’s glass façade, faking calm as fury rages through my body. ‘Funny how that works. I write a check, you belong to me. Simple transaction.’

She recoils as if I’ve slapped her. ‘I’m not property.’

‘Aren’t you?’ I push off the wall, stepping closer. ‘ I bought you fair and square from your family. The least you can do is honor the agreement.’

‘I never agreed to anything!’

‘But your family did. And last time I checked, they’re the ones who matter.’ I can see tears building in her eyes, but I don’t care. I’ve been gone for two days, and she didn’t as much as think of me. Instead, she’s having romantic dinners with other men. ‘You think you can just do whatever you want? Date whoever you want?’

‘Yes!’ The word comes out as a shout. Several people on the sidewalk turn to look. Perl lowers her voice, but the fury remains. ‘I think I can make my own choices about my life.’

‘Wrong.’ I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me. Her skin is soft, warm, and I remember the night she gave me her virginity. ‘You’re mine, Perl. Every part of you. Your body, your time, your attention. Mine.’

She wrenches away from my grip. ‘You’re insane.’

‘I’m possessive. There’s a difference.’ I straighten my cuffs, trying to look casual, even though every muscle in my body is coiled tight. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to text Connor and tell him something came up. You’re going to apologize for leaving so suddenly. And then you’re coming home with me.’

‘Like hell I am.’

‘You want me to call your uncle? Explain that his niece is having dinner with other men while I’m out of town?’ I pull out my phone, thumb hovering over his contact. ‘I’m sure he’d love to hear about how you’re handling your obligations.’

Her face crumples.

For a second, I almost feel guilty.

Almost.

Then I remember her laughing with Connor, leaning across the table like she wants to touch him, and the guilt evaporates.

‘You bastard,’ she whispers.

‘Probably. But I’m your bastard now.’ I pocket my phone. ‘Car’s around the corner. Let’s go.’

‘No.’ She takes a step backward. ‘I won’t do this anymore. I won’t be traded like livestock.’

‘Then what? You’ll run away? Live on the streets?’ I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. ‘Your family will cut you off the second you stop playing along. You’ll have nothing.’

‘I’d rather have nothing than be owned by you.’

The words hit hard. I stare at her, this sexy woman in a navy dress who looks like she’d rather die than belong to me, and something cold settles in my chest.

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I do.’ Her voice is steady now, resolved. ‘I’d rather be poor and free than rich and trapped.’

‘Free?’ I step closer, backing her against the restaurant window. You’re naïve, Perl. In our world, we’re never truly free. There are only different chains.’

‘Then I’ll choose my own chains.’

‘You chose wrong.’

I reach for her again, but she ducks away, quick as a cat. For a second, we stare at each other across three feet of sidewalk, hunter and prey. Then she runs.

I don’t chase her. I watch her disappear around the corner, heels echoing off the buildings, navy dress fluttering behind her.

My phone buzzes. Danyl checking in. I ignore it.

She’ll be back. She has nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to.

Her family won’t help her if she defies me, and Connor Harker isn’t the kind of man who’d fight for her. He depends on her uncle and won’t do anything to jeopardize his position. She’ll realize that soon enough.

Danyl joins me on the sidewalk. “Are you going after her?”

“No.”

She’ll come back because she has to.

Because I own her, whether or not she admits it.

But standing there, watching the space where she disappeared, I can’t shake the image of her face when she said she’d rather have nothing than be owned by me.

Like I’m the monster in this story.

Maybe I am. But I’m her monster.

And I’ll burn down the world to keep her by my side.