Sovereign – Dark Bratva (Wicked Vows #1) Read Online Jane Henry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Vows Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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A sexy, forced marriage, dark Bratva stand-alone romance by USA Today bestselling author, Jane Henry.

Powerful and merciless. Cunning and cruel.
A monster wrapped in luxury and wealth.
Mikhail Romanov is my opposite in every way…
And my new husband.

In exchange for his protection…
He’ll demand everything from me.
My obedience. My submission.
My body.

But marriage is only the beginning.
I’ll have his baby, too.

I thought I was clever. A penniless hacker hiding from the world.
That no one would discover who I am and what I’ve done.
I was so wrong.

The Solution: Marry the man more powerful than my enemies.
While endless wealth and power don’t melt his icy glare…
The fiery tension between us threatens to combust every second we’re near.
Every command.
Every touch.

If I leave, I have nowhere to go.
I’m being hunted by his enemies.
But if I stay? I’m wedded to a monster who plans to keep me forever.

Please note: This is a dark Bratva romance with themes of forced marriage, dubious consent, and BDSM. Please read at your own discretion.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Aria

“Today, you are going down.” I shove my glasses up the bridge of my nose for the umpteenth time with a little smile, blinking at the screen in front of me. Although it’s cramped in this small, makeshift home office which consists of a tiny desk I rescued curbside nestled in a corner of the room to give me the best access to my computer screens, here’s where I do my magic. While I don’t really mind teaching coding at the little community college outside of Coney Island, I don’t like the red tape and long hours. I long to get back to my little haven, where my fingers fly over the keys and I truly come alive.

Today, in the most boring white conference room under harsh, fluorescent lights, tepid coffee in hand, I longed to get home to unwrap what I discovered last night: the motherlode of all encrypted goldmines. Way too complex for me to delve into before school, but now, when the night is young and the moon rises, I get to play.

Professor by Day, Hacking Goddess by Night.

At least that’s what I like to think.

I glance at the time and stretch. I can out-code anyone in the world, bar none. One day, I’ll no longer be known as Aria Cunningham, the nobody, barely scraping by at the local community college. I’ll actually make a difference in this world.

I blink and stare at the screen.

Wait.

My heart beats faster. Is that…

No.

My mouth dry, I click the little icon indicating my download is complete. I scroll down, my hand covering my mouth as I’m seized with two conflicting emotions.

Elation — I did it! I successfully hacked into the most notorious database of criminal activity I’ve ever seen in my life.

And gripping, terrifying fear.

No one has ever done this before. And unearthing something this massive comes at a cost.

I stare, my mouth agape.

Names. Dates. Locations. Pictures.

Evidence.

Politicians and celebrities, CEOs and religious leaders, military icons and monarchs. I stare in both horror and glee as I realize…it worked.

I scroll past pages and pages of information that should be encrypted but reads clear as day now. Oh my God. This is worse than I thought. If this got out to the press…if anyone knew what these people have done. No.

And worse? If the owners of this information ever realize I’ve hacked into their database…

“Good thing you covered your tracks,” I whisper to myself.

A blinding yellow light flashes. I stare for a second too long.

I leap to my feet. I smack the button on the surveillance camera that overlooks all entryways to my apartment. My blood runs cold at the sight of six armed men at the back door. I might be in an old, mostly unoccupied house that was nearly condemned, but there are still three access points, not including windows, and I don’t take risks.

Shit.

Oh God.

My heart beats so fast I feel nauseous, bile rising in my throat as I quickly assess my options even as my mind whirs. How?? How did they discover where I am so quickly?

I’m so damn careful, sweeping every digital footprint as thoroughly as possible. I leave no trace behind and cover every possible angle. I don’t have time to unravel this.

I kick my keys into the trash bin and grab my laptop. I have seconds as I scramble to my hideout in the tiny attic. The trap door glides into place at the same time my front door opens.

I slide into position, my heart beating so rapidly I feel like I’m going to be sick.

I listen. It’s just as I imagined. I told myself I would never actually need a hideout. And yet here I am.

My mind races.

The type of information I discovered was under high profile lock and key. The people responsible for this set up an immediate alert in the event of a security breach and absolutely had the funds and resources for high security measures.

Oh God.

Footsteps sound on the floor below. How long will they look for me? How thoroughly will they search? With a pounding heart, I wait in the corner of the attic, well hidden. If whoever’s here had the foresight to bring a search dog, I’ll be fucked, but I’m mostly invisible to the human eye.

Glass shatters amid loud, commanding voices. Though I can’t make out clear words, I know they’re trying to get me out of hiding. I swipe at the tears that fall and clutch my laptop to me at the sounds of my meager possessions being destroyed.

I listen for words but can only hear muffled voices. From my perch in the attic, I crawl on my belly to look through the tiny, triangular-shaped window that overlooks the driveway. Three unmarked luxury SUVs.

Shit.

I hold my breath and pray the camouflaged trap door remains hidden.

The footsteps come closer. Someone bangs a heavy hand on the closet walls and ceiling. I slap my hand to my mouth to stifle a scream. The voices come nearer.



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