Sold To The Bratva Boss - Flora Ferrari Page 0,2

of anger inside me, too. In another life, I saw women like this, women who were coerced into behaving how their captors wanted them to behave.

I tried to help them, a stupid naïve boy, a boy who thought he was already a man. I tried to help them and I felt the cold sting of their punishment against my back, until I realized that the only way I could help was to attack, attack, attack.

And yet attacking here, now, would solve nothing. It would cause more death in the long run.

If I were to declare war on these men, hundreds or even thousands would die in the aftermath, the reach of these syndicates is so ubiquitous.

I sigh, and watch as the auctioneer struts out again, all brash confidence now that he knows his wares have been well-received.

“Gentleman, gentleman, it is almost time to bring our festivities to an end. But I have, of course, saved the best until last. Eighteen years old, a certified virgin, this young lady may be a little curvy for some tastes, but what she lacks in aesthetics, she more than makes up for in innocence. Allow me to present, for your pleasure, a shy, innocent, eighteen year old virgin.”

The curtain at the rear of the room peel back and I see her.

My world crumbles.

Everything crashes down and I feel my balls flood, my mind flood, my everything flood with urges to take her, claim her, right fucking now.

I feel like a beast in the jungle, sighting its prey – no, its mate – and it’s her, it has to be her.

My eyes roam over her, her hair long and dark and wavy down to her shoulders, her face open, brave and yet frightened. Her eyes are stark blue and her body is curvaceous and gorgeous, her breasts bountiful and life-giving in the bikini, her hips wide, made to be grabbed, adored, spanked, claimed.

She’s mine.

Rage swells in me when I realize that everybody else is looking at her, too, that eyes are roaming over my woman. She looks around the room, blinking in the spotlight.

She can’t see us. We sit in relative darkness. But they can see her.

“Boss, what are you—”

But it’s too late.

I stand up and stride to the balcony edge, grip the railing, and then vault over. Ten, fifteen feet to the floor, and yet it doesn’t matter. I land in an athletic ball and then rise up to my full seven feet, feeling like a bear ready to swipe at the vulnerable throats of my enemies.

“She is mine,” I declare to the room, my eyes fixated on her.

I take off my jacket, stride over to her, and drape it over her shoulders.

“Go to the back,” I tell her. “Where the other girls are waiting. Wait there for me.”

“Um,” she whispers, shivering slightly.

She glances at the auctioneer.

“If any man wishes to challenge me that this woman is mine, that she belongs to me, speak now. Speak now and we’ll settle it like fucking men.”

Silence stretches across the room.

I feel how close this woman is to me, scenting something in the air, something sharp and tangy and welcoming.

It’s her womb, her appetizing womb.

“No, of course not, Mr. Elgort,” the auctioneer says. “She is yours, of course, and the price? We were going to start bidding for her at one million.”

Sacred ground. Break the rules here and thousands die in the fallout.

Crime syndicates are run by prickly men, men who offend easily. On the streets, it’s about respect. I want to tell them all to go fuck themselves. I want to march into that back room and free all those women.

But as the leader of the Bratva, I have a responsibility.

If I do what I know is right, countless more will die.

“One million?” I say.

“That’s right.”

I breathe in the scent of her again, feeling my balls pulse, a message stampeding through my mind.

She’s the one. It’s her. I’ve finally found her.

“I’ll pay ten million. Gavrie, see her safely back to the estate. We’re done here.”

“Um, Artem?” Emilio says. “What about our business meeting—”

“We’re done here,” I say flatly, and then I turn away, striding into the darkness.

The darkness, where I’ve always felt most at home.

And yet now there’s a glint of light, my heart hammering in my chest.

“What’s her name?” I demand of the auctioneer, when he comes walking after me, probably to see about payment.

I grab him by the collar and shove him up against the wall, this perverted dealer in flesh who loves his