Page 45 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

Maybe Sergei wasn’t acting strange, and a shipment had an issue or something and Igor was really just busy trying to handle whatever the fuck it is that he couldn’t just pick up his phone and at least send me a text.

Then the last scenario flashes through my thoughts.

I tighten my grip on the wheel, pushing that thought to the back of my head.

No.

I refuse to let my mind go there. There’s no way in the world he already knows my secret. It has to be something else.

During the ride, I calm myself by rehearsing how to tell him. I’ll start by making sure we’re alone. Then I’ll hug him, tell him my arm didn’t hurt as much when I woke up this morning, and apologize before spilling everything.

The towering black building finally comes into view, its familiar neon sign glowing against the afternoon sky. Valets hurry between expensive sports cars while suited men patrol the entrance.

I pull over and climb out of my car, handing the key to one of the valets. To think I was working here only a couple days ago.

I step onto the sidewalk, immediately recognizing several of the guards stationed outside. The moment they see me, they straighten up the same way they would if I was Igor.

One of them walks up to me. I wonder if Dimitri has called Igor to tell him I left. “Welcome, Mrs. Nazarov.”

“Thank you.” I offer him a small smile, though I’m not sure how I can manage one when my heart is nearly jumping out of my chest with fear. “I’m here to see my husband.”

He nods and leads me inside the club.

It’s a Monday night, so the place is barely crowded. Loud music blares through the speakers and neon lights flash in hues of red, green, and blue.

I’m so nauseous it feels like I’m going to throw up any minute. The closer I get to Igor’s office, the louder my heart beats.

The guard stops outside Igor’s office and pushes the door open for me, and I step inside. The first thing I see is Igor standing behind his desk, one hand braced against the polished wood, his broad shoulders rigid beneath his black shirt.

When he lifts his head, our eyes meet.

The smile I was forcing onto my face disappears instantly.

I can feel the tension rising in the room from the look he gives me. The warmth that’s become so familiar over the past few days is gone, replaced by an icy calm that sends a chill racing down my spine.

Every word I rehearsed on my way down here dies in my throat. I don’t speak.

I can’t speak.

Because the look in his eyes tells me he already knows.

Chapter Twelve

Igor

Audrey’s gaze shifts from my face to the open folder on my desk. Her breath hitches, and the way the color drains from her face tells me she knows exactly what’s inside.

When her eyes meet mine again, they’re wide with horror. It’s the first time she’s looked at me with so much fear in her eyes.

Her reaction is all the evidence I need to know everything in this folder is true.

“Um…” Her fingers tighten around her purse and her voice trembles when she says, “Hi.”

I’m mad as fuck. Not just at the information in the folder, but the fact that she defied my orders and came here without any security. Dimitri called twenty minutes ago to tell me she snuck out right after he went to get extra security to drive her down here.

I ordered him to follow her, but my wife somehow drove faster than the men who I pay to trade their lives for hers if need be. They’ll answer for their carelessness later, but for now, there’s something way more important for me to handle.

“Sit.”