Seduction: A Dark Bratva Fake Marriage Romance (Wicked Vows)

I listen as Vera makes small talk with the rest of the group. Her latest peer-reviewed published research is the topic of conversation, thanks to Dr. Morozov. She’s amazing to watch. Not only is she well-spoken, she’s intelligent, obviously driven, and charismatic. I doubt she even realizes she’s the center of attention; she’s so focused on and passionate about what she’s talking about. Though it’s a small group, she quickly becomes the epicenter of it while everybody else fades away.

I love how avidly she speaks about her work. I understand most of what she says, but only peripherally. When she dives into the details of it, I’m a little lost. So is the American pretty boy, though he tries to pretend he isn’t.

The only time Vera’s confidence wavers is when someone brings attention back to her and not the actual subject of the research. It seems as if she will talk about her field all day long but can’t stand too much attention on herself. She bites her lip and flushes a bit pink.

I want to excuse her from this situation. Tell everyone she has a headache or whatever and needs to sleep. Thank them for their hospitality but tell them it’s time my wife got some rest.

But I don’t, not yet. I cannot overstep. One thing I’ve learned in my line of work is how to fade into the woodwork, which is not an easy task when you’re 6’4” and built like me. This is her time to shine, and she can’t hide from it.

So I busy myself observing her classmates and professors. This is my job. I need to see who might pose a future risk.

“How do you find your accommodations, Markov?” Irina asks in Russian. While the rest of the group is talking to Vera, she’s made her way to me. It seems as if she’s standing a little too close. Either she suspects I am not who I say I am, or something else is going on.

I’ve been told I see danger everywhere I go, but I’m instantly on guard.

“They’re fine, thank you. I do have an issue with the locks, though, and must insist on replacing them. They are not safe. I can install them myself but wanted to mention it before I make any changes to our housing.”

Irina looks apologetic. “Of course. I love that you’re concerned about Vera and want to protect her. There’s no need for you to take that on yourself. I’ll see that it’s done first thing tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I’ll also ask that I be allowed to accompany her in her studies.”

“Of course,” Irene says with a smile. “While it’s not standard for our students to have their spouses accompany them, we’re going to make an exception and allow you to partake in as many of our activities as you’d like.” She gives me an obvious wink.

I nod. Either Irina’s gotten the memo about who the Ivanovs really are and doesn’t want to rock the boat, or she has other plans. In any event, I want to stay as close to Vera as I can.

We take our seats, Vera right beside me as they bring out platters of beef stroganoff with thick noodles, salads, and rolls. My mouth waters. I’ve missed the traditional food of my homeland.

The American sits beside Vera, of course. We’ll have to have a word. Discreetly. I can’t fuck up his pretty little face without recourse, but he knows that Vera is my wife and thinks it’s alright to hit on her. For an intelligent man, he needs some more education.

I watch all of them keenly, but the rest of our meal goes without a hitch.

“Were you in the military?” the slight woman with black hair asks me. “You cut your food and eat with such precision.”

You can tell a lot by someone’s tone and body posture. She’s not judging or giving me a hard time but is genuinely curious. I’m amongst a group of exceptionally brilliant people, so I’m not surprised.

“For a while, yes,” I tell her. “When I was younger.”

The gray-haired professor laughs. “When he was younger,” he says with a gentle shake of his head. “If I could bottle up the youth elixir in one of these labs, I would. Oh, to be thirty again.”

How does he know how old I am? It might just be an educated guess, but I still trust none of them.

Any one of them could have been placed here by one of our enemies—hers or mine. It’s unlikely that anyone has suspected who I am and why I’m here, but it’s a possibility I can’t ignore.

Predictably, the American monopolizes the conversation, dropping names from Harvard. The ass hat. Irina and Morozov listen intently, but Vera is speaking less and less frequently. I can tell by the way she keeps stifling a yawn that she’s exhausted, and the wine hasn’t helped.

I watch Maxim only make a small plate of vegetables and rice, then take his leave after a few minutes of socialization.

I will watch that one. Who am I kidding? I’ll watch every one of them. No one’s anymore trustworthy than the next.

“Let’s go,” I say in Vera’s ear. “You need rest, and I’ve had enough socializing.”

Vera nods, agreeing with me for once.

Irina thankfully adjourns our meeting. “Thank you all for indulging us. It was lovely meeting you. But now, since everyone’s exhausted after a long day of travel, we will call it a night and meet first thing in the morning. Our first lab is at seven.”

Vera leans over and whispers, “Are you a morning person?”

I nod, leaning in further to make sure nobody hears us. “I like to go for a run at five. Join me?”

“Sure,” she says. “I’d love to.” I happen to know that she does love to go for a run. I also know she likes to run the same route over and over again, listen to the same playlist, and never alter her routine. That will need to change because it isn’t safe.

“Alright then, we will go for the run at four forty-five,” I announce, testing her resolve. I want to see how much she likes to be pushed. How she responds when I do exactly what she’s been reading about in those books of hers.

Vera wrinkles her nose. “Um. That’s a little early, isn’t it?”

“We’ll need to shower and eat breakfast after the run if we’re to be ready by seven.”

Though she blows out a breath, she agrees. “True.”

Everyone part ways, and we walk once again hand-in-hand back to our dorm apartment.

“What did you think?” she asks.

“The food was excellent. I’ve missed food like that. You?”

“Some of it was good, but I can already tell I’m going to miss some of my American food.” She smiles. “I wasn’t asking about the food, though, Markov. What did you think of the people?”

I suspected that’s what she meant.

“I don’t trust anybody, so I’m the last person to ask.”

We walk in silence for a moment.

“Who do you find particularly untrustworthy? Besides the American?”

“The silent blond guy. Hid himself from everyone. I would suspect he either feels as if he’s above everyone, or he doesn’t belong at all. But I don’t trust people who don’t interact when socialization is expected. I’m not a social guy myself, but I know how to behave. “

“I see. Interesting. You talk a lot about behavior and how people behave,” she says. With the way she flutters her fingertips across her neckline, I wonder how thirsty Vera is. . .

I shrug. “It’s true. It’s who I am. I don’t play bullshit games, Vera.” I give her a wink. “As for the rest, time will tell. The Irishman is a bit arrogant but intelligent, and he knows his place. Jake wants recognition from everyone—a stereotypical Ivy League pretty boy raised by wealthy parents. Hopefully, being in a program like this will take him down a peg or two. The girl seems nice enough, though you’ll need to watch her competitive streak. I like Morozov and Irina. They seem to be good mentors, and I hope they treat you well.”

Her brows shoot up her forehead. “Good observations.”

“It’s my job.”

When we arrive back at the room, the little hairs on the back of my neck rise. I reach for her and hold her back before she can enter.

“What?”

I can practically fucking smell it in the air.

“Don’t move.”

“What’s wrong?” she whispers.

“It’s a feeling I have.” And I’d rather be wrong than step right into a dangerous situation. Both of us are Bratva. We both are moving targets, for different reasons.

I open the door to the room and make her stand right behind me while I scan everything.

The air in the room feels different, subtly charged from a presence that lingers like smoke after a fire. Everything seems untouched, yet it smacks of an intrusion. “Somebody’s been in here. “

They were careful, but I know they were here.

“Markov, I think you’re overreacting. I was in a bit of a rush when we were leaving, remember? I kind of left things all over the place. “

I shake my head. “Trust me. Somebody was in here. Look through your belongings and tell me if you’re missing anything.”

“Everything’s fine, Markov,” she begins, giving me a look that tells me she’s not amused by this current line of thinking. “We weren’t gone very long.”

“Look.”

“If you insist.” She goes through her clothing and finds nothing amiss, then heads to the bathroom. “I told you everything is—” She stops mid-sentence, staring into the bathroom. “Wait. Nothing’s missing, but. . . this is not where I put things. Everything’s been. . . moved. My toothbrush was on the left of the sink, and now it’s on the right. I always brush with my non-dominant hand on purpose. I put my shampoo on the top shelf and the conditioner on the bottom because that’s always how I do things, and now they’ve been switched.”

She spins around and stares at me. “You’re right. Someone’s been in here. Do we need to move? Find another room? We need to tell somebody⁠—”

I shake my head and take a step so that I can be closer to her. I can tell she’s on the verge of panicking.

“Markov, I’ve never been away from home before. What if I’m a target? What if you are? What if somebody doesn’t want me to be in this program?”

I reach my hand to her arm to steady her, to calm her down. “You’re fine. I’m fine. Fucking no one is going to hurt you when I’m around. You do not go anywhere without me, Vera. I mean that. Of course you’re a target. You’re an Ivanov.”

When she shakes her head, I decide to lay down the law about my expectations. It will have the dual effect of making sure she stays safe and testing the waters.

I tip my finger under her chin and lift her gaze to mine. “Am I clear?”

She swallows and nods, her eyes widening. “Are you sure it’s safe for us to stay here tonight?”

I smile at her. “I dare anyone to come back in this room when I’m here. I’ve already spoken to Irina. The locks will be fixed tomorrow. You’re safe. Someone came in here to rattle you. They achieved that. And when I find out who it is, I’ll personally deal with them.” She shivers but nods.

I crook a finger at her. “Come here,” I instruct softly, my voice laced with feigned calm, for her sake.

Vera hesitates, her body trembling, her eyes wide and haunted. She’s shaking like a leaf. Rage simmers within me, ignited by the invasion of our privacy and her reaction, but I push it aside.

This is a good opportunity for me to take the next step with her.

Stepping forward, I pull her into my arms, mindful of her delicate, much smaller frame against my larger one. She fits almost perfectly, like a missing piece I hadn’t known I needed. I cup the back of her head, my hand large enough to cradle it and envelop her in a chaste hug. I want to be a barrier against the chaos of the world. “I promise you, Vera, you’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you. Can you trust me?”

Her eyes, wide and searching, meet mine. The flush of pink in her round cheeks speaks volumes of how she truly feels. “I don’t know if I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice. But listen, you are exhausted. Go get ready for bed and I’ll take care of things here. I’m going to barricade the door and make some phone calls. Everything is going to be alright.”

Her eyes linger on mine for a moment longer, as if searching for reassurance, then slowly, she nods. “If you say so. This is your job, after all.”

It is. It so fucking is.

When she goes to the bathroom to dress, I move our luggage and place the dresser in front of the door. The windows don’t really concern me because they’re too small for anyone to get in.

Who was it? Who is in this room? I check both of my phones. I hate this dual identity, but it’s what I have to do for now.

The pang that hits my chest takes me by surprise.

I miss everyone at home. Who knew I’d be homesick?

Every year, my family hosts a large gathering, and we invite the most distinguished people we know. We raise millions of dollars for charity, solidifying our place as upstanding members of society.

Beautiful. Brilliant. Fucking perfect.

I tuck my phone away and text the Ivanov captain.

There’s no response. I wait. And wait. Sons of bitches.

I put both phones away just as Vera enters the room.

“So why don’t you just. . . forget about what I said I wear to bed earlier.”

Ah, that’s right. She said quite a few things when she didn’t know I could understand her, didn’t she?

Now she’s wearing sweats and a tee.

“So you lied about what you wear to bed?” I stroke my chin. “You aren’t allowed to lie to me.”

Her back is to me while she puts her clothes away so I can’t tell if her cheeks have colored.

“We’re sharing that bed tonight, Vera. I don’t care about sleeping on the floor, but I want to be sure I’m right next to you in case anything happens.”

“Good. That’s fine. We can …do this, Markov.”

We can do this.

We can sleep next to each other and not fuck each other? Yeah, we can.

Still… I remind myself that seducing her would get me closer to where I need to be.

I remind myself that her father brought devastation upon my family with the sole purpose of destroying us.

I remind myself that my loyalty is to the Romanovs. . . my family. And only my family.

I remind myself that if I fuck her, I’m sleeping with the enemy.