Sasha: A Dark Mafia Romance (Belles & Mobsters)
Sasha: Chapter 36

I discarded the empty syringe on the floor and her body went limp.

Anger shot through me. I hoped for a better greeting from her. She had been avoiding me for fucking months. She was never alone. Either Alessio’s men were with her. Or fucking Killian’s.

If he had touched her, I’d fucking tear him to pieces.

Peace could go to fucking hell.

And the fucking wedding dress she wore, I couldn’t wait to tear it off her.

Annoyance flared in my chest. It pissed me off that she’d put on some princessy dress. For him. When she was mine. She has been mine. And she made a goddamn promise she’d wait.

Did she?

Fuck no.

Maxim already waited for me by the car with the door open. I slid her into the back seat and her wedding dress rode up, baring her smooth, toned thighs and a blue fucking garter.

A growl vibrated in my chest. The thought of Killian skimming his hands up those smooth thighs had me seeing fucking red.

Maxim’s attention slid to Autumn’s legs and I clenched my teeth. “You know what the quickest way to get your brains blown out is?”

His eyes turned to me. “I’m guessing by looking at her legs.”

“That’s right.”

I slid in the back seat next to her and shifted her head to rest on my lap. The door slammed behind me and Maxim went around and got behind the wheel.

My eyes lowered to her. I had my share of beautiful women but none of them compared to her. But it was so much more than her beauty. Everything about her spoke to me on a fundamental level. It was like she was made just for me. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I had never hesitated taking what was offered to me. Women threw themselves into my arms. I fucked them. My way. The hard way. But with her, I couldn’t stomach using her. Or hurting her.

For some reason the fire that burned in me, threatening to ignite into an inferno and wreak havoc on this world, started and ended with her.

God must have been laughing at my crazy ass when he put a grown-up Branka Russo in my path. The girl that hated to be touched. She was more than happy to touch me, but I’ve watched her long enough to know she fucking hated to be touched by men.

And there was nothing more I wanted to do then tie her up and fuck her.

I pushed my fingers through her hair and started to unpin all the clips in her thick mane. What a ridiculous, pompous hairdo! It was nothing like her. It made me wonder who in the fuck suggested it.

Discarding the pins on the floor of the rented car, I watched her flawless face. Long, dark eyelashes that rested on her porcelain cheeks. Full, parted lips. She looked so fucking innocent but she had a mouth on her. I’d heard her firsthand plenty of times.

Women usually lost their tongue around me. But not Branka Russo.

She met me head on. Every. Single. Fucking time.

It’d be her downfall one day.

Maxim drove us to the Whole Foods parking lot on the Upper West Side of New York and pulled up next to the motorcycle. It only took an hour to get from the fucking cathedral to here. It was the reason our getaway wouldn’t happen via car.

I glanced at the motorcycle. I was more of a sport bike kind of guy and this was a Harley. Not my favorite but it would do.

“You bring your psychotic family to our door, and you’ll have more than the Brennans and the Ashfords to worry about,” Maxim announced, his eyes on Branka. He really wanted to lose his fucking eyes. “You started a clusterfuck. An even bigger one than you usually manage to stir.”

I met his dark gaze in the rearview mirror. “Did I ask your opinion?” He shook his head. “Then don’t give it. You and your brother have a debt to pay. You’ve paid yours. Your brother will pay his debt. Now spare me your fucking wisdom.”

He scoffed. “He’s my brother and this is repaying a favor. It doesn’t diminish who or what he is.”

He threw the keys to the Harley over his shoulder.

I caught them.

He exited the car, as I remained sitting, waiting for Branka to wake up.

I ran a thumb across her parted lip.

“I told you to keep your promise, moy kotyonok.”

The nickname suited her. She had claws.

“I’m out of here,” Maxim grunted, his eyes flicking to Branka. “Don’t forget that my debt is paid. Don’t fucking call me again… ever.”

Yet, he didn’t move, his eyes locked on Branka. His expression went grim and my sixth sense flared. But then it disappeared and he turned around.

I watched Maxim’s back as he disappeared, then returned my attention to Branka’s sleeping face.

The irony didn’t escape me. He helped me kidnap my woman while I was unsuccessful in saving his. A reluctant truce. All because his Pakhan, who happens to be his brother, didn’t want a war with the Nikolaevs. Smart man. He knew our strength rivaled his and war between our families would weaken him.

And that was never a good thing when you were the head of a criminal organization.

We became indebted and we collected debts. Round and round we fucking go.

Until someone falls.

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