Ruthless Mafia King: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance

I have no idea how many days have passed in this windowless hellhole. I haven’t spoken to a soul for days. The only thing that keeps me from completely succumbing to depression is the idea that eventually, things will look up.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

Nikolai won’t break me.

Even though at times I feel hopeless, I soon pick myself back up, listing things I can be grateful for.

I’m alive.

I eat three meals a day.

I have regular access to a bathroom and warm water, and sleep in a comfortable bed.

It doesn’t help that I can’t keep track of the days with no phone, watch, or computer in sight. In a confined space like this, it’s challenging to pass the waking hours. Each hour is similar to the next.

I haven’t slept this much since I was a toddler.

Over what I think has been five days, I’ve done all I could to keep my spirits up: meditation upon waking, pushups, squats, and lunges before breakfast, yoga and stretching a few hours after lunch, extra-long and hot showers, dressing up in expensive clothes, putting on makeup, brushing my hair.

Then more pushups: standard, wide, diamond, decline, incline.

Once I’m spent and there’s nothing else to do, I read the books Nikolai brought. Of course, once I got a taste, I devoured all of them.

If he doesn’t come soon, I’ll have to read them again.

If someone knew that I enjoyed reading about alphas and doms making the heroines fall head over heels in love, they wouldn’t believe their ears. I am addicted to reading about male domination. I even masturbated to many scenes from the books, reading them two or three times.

I’m not telling anyone, especially not Nikolai, that the thought of him towering over me sends tingling pleasure right between my thighs. My libido has been kicking my ass. By now, it’s impossible to avoid imagining how his firm body would feel pressed against my skin, the idea of him touching me sending shivers down my spine.

Instead of fantasizing about the handsome jerk, I should be plotting my revenge. There’s nothing that sets me straight better than fantasizing about getting back at him. And then it hits me. He told me that his plan is to make me fall for him.

Yeah, not gonna happen.

I’ve never relied on a man’s strength before, and I sure as hell won’t do it with this ass. With my anger spiking to an astronomical height, I jump off the bed and land on my feet, facing the door. I’m waiting and preparing for my last meal of the day to arrive. Or at least, I think it’s dinner time.

Maybe I should ask Olga to tell Nikolai that I’m ready to play nice. The only way for me to get out of here is through him. Besides, I could use some company. The last thing I want is to become a crazy woman who talks to herself.

Nikolai wants me to fall in love with him, but what if I turn the tables on him?

What if he falls in love with me first?

It’s a tempting thought, and for the briefest of moments, I start thinking seriously about it. But it can only work in theory because my future husband has made it very clear.

He doesn’t do love.

More to the point, he considers it a weakness.

Fortunately, I haven’t been known to back down from a challenge. Especially a challenge thrown by a full-of-himself boorish bully like him.

When the sound of the food trolley starts approaching, I jump into action. I return the books to where Nikolai left them. I don’t want Olga to tell him that I’ve been reading them.

The familiar beeping sound pierces the silence, followed by the opening of the door. Olga wordlessly pushes the trolley in.

After my little fight with Nikolai, she came in with a big barrel-chested man to clean up. Ever since then, I had to eat my meals either on the floor or on the bed. They haven’t trusted me even with one chair.

Olga exchanges a look with me but doesn’t utter a single word. With nimble movements, she pulls the food trolley further into the room.

“Wait,” I call after her before she can close the door. “I want to see Nikolai.”

She looks me in the eyes. “You’ll behave, yes?”

“I’ll be good,” I say, putting as much enthusiasm as I can into my words.

“I’ll let him know when he returns,” she says, and leaves.

Now all that’s left is to have dinner on my bed. Taking the plate in my hand, I set my current read onto the mattress. I plan on skimming through my favorite parts while I eat.

By the time my belly is full, all my doubts are gone. I can’t wait to see the surprise in Nikolai’s cold gray eyes when I decide to return his challenge. It will be a game of power, and I’ll make sure I win.

After a couple of hours, I hear footsteps approaching. It must be Olga, coming to collect the food trolley.

“Hey, Olga,” I greet the housekeeper once the door opens.

But it’s not her who enters. Nikolai is wearing a beige suit, brown leather shoes, and a white shirt.

“Hello, Katarina,” he says with a smile.

His casual greeting makes my heart palpitate. His face shows no emotion, and I can’t decide whether that’s a good or bad sign.

I stand up from the bed and drop the book next to me. Ignoring the desire to hide it, I stride toward him until he blocks the door. This is the closest I’ve gotten to a human being since he locked me in. I wonder how hard it would be to push him off balance so I can make a dash for the door.

My eyes narrow as I glare at him. A soft glint in his eyes gets my attention, a hint of possessiveness causing a shiver. To cover up the excitement, I force a polite smile on my face, hoping it will smooth my glare. If he feels the need to toy with me, I will be his equal.

“I heard you’re ready to play nice.” His voice is calm, as if he has all the time in the world.

“I want to, yes,” I reply in the most non-committal way I can manage.

“I appreciate it,” Nikolai adds, sounding like I just gave him permission to execute me.

“How will this work?” I ask.

“I will come by to have dinner with you every day,” he says. “If you behave, I will give you a reward by bringing you little things such as books. If you manage to truly impress me, I might consider even bringing you a TV.”

It’s all an act. I doubt that he’ll treat me with kindness. But with everything that’s happened, I just need to entertain the idea.

“What then?” I push, needing to know his plans for me.

“Once we gain each other’s trust, I’ll let you out,” he answers, and his gray eyes focus on me intensely. “By that time, we’ll already be married. You’ll be eager to find ways to please me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I’ll treat you like a queen,” he says, brushing a thumb across my bottom lip and making my stomach flutter. The knowledge that his every word must be a calculated lie helps to lessen my growing need to go limp with lust.

“If that’s what you want.” I smile, trying to give him my best sultry look.

“That’s what you’ll want,” he replies, without missing a beat.

He’s so confident in his statement that I might start to believe him.

He cups my cheeks, the action sending my pulse skyrocketing. As quickly as his hands appear, they disappear. I wince when he releases me.

“You like that, don’t you?” he teases. “How wet are you for me?”

I shrug indifferently, even though my knees buckle. Instead of giving in to the desire for him, I bat my eyelashes and pretend that his words mean nothing. “Why don’t you find out?”

Nikolai laughs, and we stare at each other, both determined to win. But I’m at a disadvantage because his facial expression is unreadable. For all I know, he could be just as aroused as me.

It’s his turn to make a move. But instead of taking my bait, he straightens.

“See you tomorrow, Katarina.”

And without another word, he’s gone.

I’m alone again.

But not for long.

He’ll be back.