The Bratva’s Bride Read online Jane Henry (Wicked Doms #2)

Categories Genre: BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Doms Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
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If there is a God… I hope he doesn’t look like the furious, bearded man in the icons. Wrathful and angry.

And if there is a God… I hope my sacrifice for Calina goes rewarded inasmuch as she’s well cared for. Because one look at my captor, and I know the debt I’m forced to pay will destroy me.

I say goodbye to the life I knew. And there, crouched beside the man who took me, before he’s even begun to extract payment, I let go of life as I knew it.

I will not try to escape. I will pay her debt if it kills me, and it very well might.

The rain clears outside the window as we drive, and his phone rings again. He answers it without looking at me, speaking in the harsh tongue of his people. I wonder how much I’ll understand when I’m with him. But when we pull up beside a huge, sprawling mansion, I no longer wonder. He addresses me in English.

“You’ll come with me to my apartment in the compound,” he says. “I live on the bottom floor, detached from the rest of the house and overseeing operations. In recent years, we’ve had renovations done so no one can access my apartment but me.” I’m not sure why he’s telling me this, but I suppose it matters. “I will introduce you to my brothers, so they know I’ve taken you. You will not speak to them. You will not make eye contact with them. If you do anything other than cast your eyes to the floor when I bring you in front of them, you’ll be whipped before I put you to bed.”

I shiver in fear and my mouth goes dry. I know he will do exactly as he says. I wondered how far he’d go physically, and now he’s laying his cards on the table. He’ll whip me… or have me whipped. Same difference. Hell, he’s likely looking for an excuse to do just that. I nod my head, but it isn’t good enough.

“‘Yes, sir’, is the correct response,” he spits out.

“Yes, sir,” I say obediently. I’ll do my best to play my part so I can pay off this debt.

But what will he do with me when I have?

I’ve got nothing to lose.

“You’ll do exactly as I say. You do not speak unless I allow it, and all will know you do not speak Russian. Understood?”

I nod, though I’m not really sure why he’s explaining this. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ll have a servant to take care of your needs, but there will be no other luxuries unless I grant them. You’re my prisoner and whore here, Calina. Make sure you understand that. Make no mistake. A gilded cage this might be, but you are caged.”

“I get it,” I say softly, looking away from him. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t push the boundaries. Do as you’re told.

We cruise to a stop and someone in a uniform comes to his door. He points for me to stay where I am, then gets out of the car and comes to my side, opens the door, and pulls me out. Without a word, he yanks my cuffed wrists.

I jump when his hand crashes on my ass. “Eyes to the floor,” he says. That’s twice now he’s spanked me and once he’s threatened to. Is he looking for an excuse to beat me? I won’t give him one.

I feel people around us, watching us, even though it’s late at night. He speaks to some in a curt, clipped tone of voice. People hustle to obey him, and as we walk, I can feel the attention of the room focus on him. Servants pay attention, everyone on guard for their master. They fear him, and it makes me uneasy.

I’m so tired after everything, the adrenaline’s long since worn off. I hope he lets me get some sleep. Or will he have me “service him” before I’ve gotten to rest? My stomach churns with nausea at what he’ll make me do. He’s going to use my body to sate his own needs. That much I’ve gathered.

With my head cast down, I can’t see where he’s leading me, though soon the hardwood floor gives way to carpet. He takes my arm in one hand while opening a door with his other hand, then he steps foot into the room before dragging me in.

“You may look at where we are and who is before us,” he says to me. “I want you taking note this time.”

Though surprised, I obey, snapping my head up and looking at the men standing around a fireplace. Their eyes are fixed on me, intent and angry, and I feel as if I’ve been led in front of a firing squad. One man is big and burly, with a heavy beard and dark black eyes. The other two look like they’re related, tall and muscular, with dark brown hair. And another, tall and lithe with a shock of auburn hair, so much younger than the others I wonder if he’s someone’s son or younger brother, stands apart from the others.



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