The Bratva’s Captive Read online Jane Henry (Wicked Doms #3)

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance, Suspense, Thriller Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Doms Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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"Be quiet," he snaps. "I've had enough. Come with me."

It was hard enough being punished in the privacy of his room. Now I want to crawl under a rock.

I stifle a sigh. Larissa is being escorted out by the man I assume is her husband, and our brief interlude has hardened Maksym to granite. This room is too heavily guarded, with both servants and armed men watching every exit. My brief observation notes blinking lights at every means of escape. Some sort of alarm. Where is the central alarm system? How does one access it?

For now, my only hope is to observe as discreetly as possible.

Chapter 5

Maksym

She thinks I don't note the way her eyes dart to every doorway and window. As if it isn't clear to me how badly she wants to escape.

It won't be that simple.

I lead her to the meeting room on the first floor, where Demyan keeps his office. He used to have an office set up in his suite, but ever since he married Larissa, he prefers to keep his work separate. In here, we can orchestrate a group interrogation and research what we need to. She crumpled under the sting of my palm, so I don't think she will be as difficult to interrogate as past prisoners. But there's much about her I haven't quite figured out yet. I'll need to.

Our men have already assembled, the inner rankings of our brotherhood. Nicolai, Filip, Vladak, and Demyan all take their seats, but Nicolai eyes Olena strangely. I give him a sharp look, and when he sees me looking, he quickly looks away. He’s a good man, hardworking and dependable, but I don’t like the way he looks at Olena, his eyes betraying… sympathy?

I yank out a chair and place it in the center of the room, push Olena onto it, and adjust her cuffs so her hands are behind her back. Her eyes focus on me, fiery and angry. Defiant. I decide to set her off balance. To use the element of surprise in my favor. To show her I'm her master.

I lean down, cupping her face in my hands, and give her a gentle kiss. My intent is to take her off guard. I want to break down her defenses, without relying on sheer brute force.

But when my lips meet hers, my world stutters to a crashing halt as heat crackles between us. My body thrums as if electrified, my senses heightening to near painful in their brilliance. The faint scent of roses. The silky feel of her soft skin on my fingers. The tender, warm, sensual touch of her mouth I want to feel all over my body. Her very essence that breathes life into my lungs. A distant warning bell rings in my subconscious. I'm sinking into utter bliss with a mere kiss and I need to pull away.

I will never love another woman.

I cannot betray my Taya.

Taya was brutally murdered, and I will avenge her.

And on this last thought, I clamp her lips between my teeth until she screams out loud in pain.

I release her lips but hold her face, my forehead next to hers. "Behave yourself," I breathe into her ear, pleased to see her eyes have grown impossibly wide.

I kneel beside her, placing one possessive hand on her thigh. I want to touch her naked skin, but if any of my brothers looked at her bare skin, I'd have to fight them. It's simpler to keep her dressed.

"Tell them your name," I order.

"Olena Baranov," she replies, holding her head high and staring at the distant wall, but her voice is a little breathy. My cock twitches, pleased I've done this to her.

"What do you know of The Thieves?"

Nicolai and Vladak stand with arms crossed, observing. Filip has his laptop open, typing away. Demyan sits beside me, his hand resting on the back of Larissa's neck.

"My father, Yuri Baranov, is their pakhan," she says. "He's kept me deliberately ignorant of what they do. I know nothing."

"Nothing?" I ask, tightening my grip on her thigh until she winces.

"I know he does terrible things," she says in a rush of words. "I know he was trying to do something financial with the previous Prime Minister before Amaranov killed himself."

We listen in silence, knowing more details of what happened than she does. Amaranov did not kill himself. We played a hand in his death, but she doesn't need to know that.

"Go on," I tell her, squeezing her thigh again.

"If I tell you what I know, and they ever find out, they'll kill me."

"If you don't, we will," Nicolai supplies, giving her a hard stare. I stifle the urge to break his nose and pound his flesh for daring to speak to my captive. With an intake of breath, I calm my rage.

She looks from Nicolai to me, then continues when I squeeze her thigh again.


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