Taken by the Bratva by Paige Warren (best short novels txt) 📗

the car and walked around to her door, opening it and helping her from the car. I could feel the curiosity from Irina and knew she’d have plenty of questions, even if she didn’t dare ask all of them. She knew her place, and soon, Imogen would as well.

“Come. I’ll show you to our room and let you become familiar with your new surroundings.”

She followed in my wake like an obedient puppy, but I knew she had claws. Irina glanced at Imogen, her lips turning down at the corners. Either she thought I’d brought the woman here for nefarious means, or it concerned her she might lose her power over my household. Once Imogen had been properly trained, I hoped she’d take over the position of lady of the house and still leave Irina enough to keep her occupied.

“Irina, this is Imogen Byrnes. Soon to be Lenkov.”

Irina’s eyes flared a moment before she composed herself. “Will either of you be needing anything?”

“Send Sonya to my rooms. I’ll need her to run an errand for me.”

Irina gave a regal nod before watching us pass. I didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed on Imogen and wondered if I’d have a problem on my hands. It hadn’t occurred to me Irina would be territorial when the house wasn’t hers. She’d been with me a long time, but at the end of the day she was an employee, just like the maids, cook, and gardeners.

Imogen stayed on my heels as I went up the staircase and down the hall to the master suite. I pushed open the double doors and entered the space, pausing for her to step inside before I closed us in. I didn’t need prying eyes or ears when she saw her new bedroom for the first time. Although, calling it a bedroom was an understatement.

I had a king size bed, dresser, and two end tables in the main part of the room. Down a few steps was the sunken living area with a chair and loveseat, as well as a small coffee table and TV mounted on the wall. The spacious bathroom held a standing shower big enough for four – and I knew because I’d tested the theory – as well as a tub that could easily hold two women and me. Again, I’d experimented previously. Two sinks and a long counter took up most of one wall. The toilet was behind another door. His and hers closets were side by side, and large enough she’d have plenty of room for her new wardrobe.

Imogen walked around the rooms, lightly touching things as she examined her surroundings. When she saw her reflection in the mirror, she winced and reached up to touch her face. I hadn’t noticed the dark smudges under her eyes before, or the way her cheeks seemed a bit sunken. It seemed her uncle hadn’t been feeding her well. No surprise since she’d been a tool to him and nothing more.

“I need your sizes, kiska. You’ll need an appropriate wardrobe, and a wedding dress. We’ll file for the marriage license today and have a small ceremony this weekend here on the grounds.”

“I’m not to be given a choice, am I?” she asked.

“Nyet. Pavel gave you to me. He wants you married. You should be grateful. He could have added you to the stable. Would you prefer to be my wife, or serving countless men on your back and knees?”

She turned to face me, her eyes void once more. “Wouldn’t be different than any other day. The whore for one man or many. Doesn’t change what I am.”

I curled my hand into a fist. I’d wanted to give her time, but it seemed she needed a lesson. She could call herself a whore if she wished to get her ass spanked. I walked to the bedroom doors and twisted the key in the lock. It seemed my meeting with Sonya would have to wait.

“Undress,” I commanded, turning to face her once more.

She did as I’d instructed without a hint of emotion. I knew it was there, even if she’d buried it deep. It seemed I’d have to break her in new ways in order to piece her back together.

I removed my suit jacket. Walking over to the dresser, I neatly folded it before setting it down. Unbuttoning my sleeves, I rolled them up.

“We need to set some rules, kiska.”

Her gaze seemed to be somewhere on the wall behind me. She refused to look me in the eye. With anyone else, it would be appropriate. But this woman was to be my wife. If anyone could look at me head on, it was her. She just needed to learn a few lessons first.

“You called yourself my whore.” I approached, my steps slow and measured. I saw her pulse flutter at her throat, the only betrayal of how she truly felt. I reached up and gripped a handful of her hair, wrenching her head until she looked at me. “A whore would be on her knees right now with my cock in her mouth. Is that what you want? To be treated like my personal sex slave?”

“It’s what I am.”

My jaw clenched and I tightened my hold on her hair. I could treat her as she expected, make her drop to her knees and suck me off. It wouldn’t serve my purpose and would only fuel her beliefs I was a monster who would abuse her. A monster, yes. Just not the kind of monster she’d been faced with so far. Not with her.

“Very well,” I said. I released her and went into the bathroom, stepping inside my closet. I retrieved four lengths of soft rope and returned to her. “Get on the bed. On your back.”

She hastened to obey, even though I saw the flash of fear in her eyes.

I knelt beside her and grabbed her wrist, anchoring it to the bedpost with one of the lengths of rope before doing the same to the other and both