Page 8 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

They were special. To be handled with care.

So seeing him knock them over…

It doesn’t belong in the world I understand.

My body reacts before my mind does.

I shift forward instinctively, shoulders pressing against the gap in the books.

No—stop.

I almost move.

Almost leave the hiding place.

Almost run to him.

Because this is wrong.

This isn’t how things are supposed to be.

But the strange man is still there. Papa told me not to leave my hiding place until he was gone.

The man stands there, frozen, watching my father writhe on the floor until he takes his last breath. And then, when he’s sure my father is gone, he turns. He walks past the fallen books without looking down.

Past the shelf.

Past my father.

Past everything.

For a moment, I see his face clearly through the gap in the bookshelf. Then he turns abruptly, walks through the broken door, and heads back into the winter night.

Chapter 1 – Sofia

Present Day

Sharon’s bookstore is quiet in the way I like most things to be. Not graveyard quiet, or totally empty, just muted.

Pages turning somewhere in the distance. A faint hum from the air conditioner above. The occasional creak of old wood as someone adjusts in their seat.

I drift between the shelves slowly, fingertips brushing book spines as I pass. I’m not really looking for anything specific. I never am. It’s more like I’m listening for something I haven’t found yet.

Behind me, Ashley is anything but quiet.

“I swear, if you pick up another tragic romance, I’m leaving you here,” she says, dragging her fingers along a shelf like she owns the place.

I don’t turn around.

“You wouldn’t leave me,” I reply.

“That’s exactly what someone I would leave would say.”

A small smile pulls at my mouth despite myself.

Ashley Kang is walking energy. Confidence in motion. She moves through space like it belongs to her, with everyone else merely temporarily occupying it. Today she’s in a fitted jacket, clean sneakers, and an expression that looks permanently amused by my existence.

She leans closer over my shoulder.