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Nine.
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Arranged To The Bravta King Ten.
MikhailThe spacious bedroom has a king-sized bed, an impressive walk-in closet, and a lavish ensuite bathroom. The locked windows offer a breathtaking view of the city. A beautiful cage for beautiful women. I won’t deny Maria’s beauty, but I also know the dangers hidden behind her beauty: it’s a distraction that will kill a lesser man.She stumbles and unexpectedly, I reach out to catch her. A current rushes through us when my fingers close around her wrist. Her breath catches in her throat, but she doesn’t pull away. She blinks, and the ferocity that had been erased earlier returns to the surface.“Let me go,” she hisses.I oblige, but only because I know she has nowhere to run. Maria rubs her wrist where my fingers were and throws a baleful look my way.“I don’t know what you think I’ve done,” she says, trying to keep her voice even. “Or what you want from me, but I swear I didn’t do anything.”“Your phone.” I ignore her and extend my hand.“I don’t have one,” she insists. “I told
Arranged To The Bravta King Eleven.
MariaThe sound of the lock latching echoes through the room like a death knell. I fight to catch my breath as panic rises through my body. My gaze stays on the door, waiting for it to open again.Oh God, no!Sobbing, I remain in the corner. The cool glass presses against my forehead as I curl up in a ball, and the reality of my situation settles around me like a thick fog. I've been imprisoned by a madman who tells me I'm going to marry him. This is exactly what my dad warned me about. But how did he even know?As I sit there, I feel a sense of bigger betrayal. I had faith in my future, and this man stole it away. Mikhail has shown me his true nature. He isn't charming or smart. He's evil, and I don't want to think about what he wants to do with me.... What he already did to me.Memories of his hands roaming across my body enter my mind, and shame bubbles up in my mind. The way he held me down underneath the weight of his body as I struggled awoke something inside of me. Something t
Arranged To The Bravta King Twelve.
MariaOutside, the steady points of light from skyscrapers appear impossibly distant. I stick my head out the window, and fear laces into my stomach when I see nothing below me. But there's a ledge that extends a bit further to a perpendicular wall with a metal ladder.I have no idea where the ladder goes, but I know that it's away from here.Deep breaths. I'm just sneaking out of the house. This is no different than climbing down the trellis in Holtsville. It's just a matter of scale.Except if you fall, it's a long way down."What choices do you have, Maria?" I whisper. "You wanna stay here and marry this maniac?"With that, I push the window wide open, turn around, and wiggle through the small opening. My toe touches a narrow ledge. Crap. It's not only narrow, it's slippery. Even if I want to, I can't go back now, not from this bent position. Sliding down, I kick off my shoes as I cling to the side of the building, and the wind whips my hair into my face.Don't look down. Don't loo
Arranged To The Bravta King Thirteen.
MariaI race to the far end of the terrace and grab hold of a tower. Gripping a gargoyle, I hoist myself up and balance on the rampart, not daring to look down."I won't marry you!" I shout as I climb higher. The harsh wind whips my dress around me, and trembling, I refuse to climb down. "I'll jump! I swear!""No, you won't," Mikhail says, a flicker of concern crossing his face before he masks it with a scowl. "Don't be stupid.""Please," I shout, fighting to keep myself from sobbing. "Just let me go."Mikhail's expression tightens as if struggling to hold onto his sanity. "No," he says evenly as he walks toward me. The wind caresses his hair, and those piercing eyes stare hard as if his gaze is all he needs to make me obey his wishes.His suit jacket is gone, and his dress shirt is unbuttoned all the way down to his belly button, revealing rippling bands of muscles across his chest and abs. Tattoos decorate the harsh landscape of his body, and his sharp features are accentuated by th
Arranged To The Bravta King Fourteen.
MikhailShe's like no one I've ever met.I sit beside Maria's bed and watch her sleep, her chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. A soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminates her sleeping form, creating an almost ethereal aura around her face. Her expression, contorted with pain earlier, now displays a tranquil expression.In this light, she has the look of a princess. I can almost forget the glimpse of the fierce hellcat underneath.Almost.I admire her courage. Foolish but definitely brave.Her long, curly, auburn hair fans out like a halo on the silk pillowcase. A dark bruise mars her soft cheek, and a bandage is wrapped tightly around her wrist. All because of me. It takes every fiber of my being to not reach out and caress the wound. But something tells me that if I so much as feel her skin against mine, then all semblance of control will burn away like mist on the morning sun.I force myself to look away. Guilt, desire, anger, and other emotions that I cannot—or dare
Arranged To The Bravta King Fifteen.
MariaI wake up, and it takes me a while before I realize I'm staring up at the ceiling.My hands feel something soft underneath me, and I wonder if everything was a dream. A few seconds pass, and I take a deep breath. It doesn't smell like my room. Blinking against the darkness above, I reach over to the curtains, draw them back, and see the glittering lights of New York sprawled out before me as the dying embers of a sunset paint the western horizon with a splash of pink and gold.Memories of the roaring wind whipping around me rush back to the forefront of my mind. I try to sit up, and pain greets me like an old friend.Not a dream, definitely real.Wincing, I lie back down, body aching but miraculously intact. I try to figure out just what the hell happened. How am I still alive and not splattered across the pavement?Despite the pain, I can't help but reflect on the irony. I ran away from my controlling father, desperate for a chance to live my own life. And where did I end up? K
Arranged To The Bravta King Sixteen.
MariaI'm allowed to wander the penthouse after my ordeal. Mikhail doesn't realize how desperate I am to leave the confinement of my room. The freedom I'm afforded tells me that he knows I won't dare try it again. My previous dress was shredded. What's left of it lies on the floor by my bed. A reminder of how close I came to my death.I don't want breakfast, but I don't want to stay in this room. The view is breathtaking, yes, but there's no art in this room. And despite everything going to hell impressively, I want to see what other artwork this madman owns.How dare he laugh at me?The walk-in closet in my bedroom is empty. I guess a designer wardrobe materializing out of nowhere only exists in fairy tales. I yank the flat sheet off my bed and wrap it around me, twisting the ends together to make a rudimentary dress. My reflection looks passable, if a little trashy.Briefly, I wonder if he'll demand that I change into something more acceptable. But then I remind myself that I'm his
Arranged To The Bravta King Seventeen.
Maria"I don't know any more than what you do." The words catch in my throat, and suddenly I wonder if I've said too much."Is that so?" Alexander asks, a hint of skepticism in his posh tone. "Your father was a very important man. He never told you anything? Not even about his old friends?""My father works with computers," I insist, my voice wavering despite my best efforts. "And he never talked about friends."The men exchange glances, clearly not convinced by my answer."He works with computers, yet you don't have a phone?" Ippolit asks softly. "No social media presence for a young lady like yourself. Why?"I shift uncomfortably in my seat, keenly aware of their scrutinizing gazes. "My father doesn't trust it," I say, trying to sound confident but feeling anything but. "He thought it wouldn't be safe for me.""Safe?" Ippolit presses, narrowing his eyes. "Did he ever tell you why he was so concerned about your safety?"My hands tremble, and I pull the pillow closer to me to hide my
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