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A Bride For A Truce Novel Cover

A Bride For A Truce

A deep bone-melting groan vibrates from his chest. "I want to see you malyshka.Every inch of you."  I shiver in anticipation as his fingers trail down my back, lowering the zipper of my dress, the fabric pooling at my waist. My tits come into view as cool air kisses my bare skin. His sharp intake of breath makes my stomach flip.  "Damn," the word is rough, almost reverent as his large hand cups my left tit, squeezing softly. "They look even better than I had imagined." His grip tightens slightly.   "A perfect fit for my hands." ☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎ Serafina had only one dream: to take center stage at the New York Opera. But if wishes were horses, even beggars would have a ride.Thrown into an arranged marriage, She is determined to hate him but soon discovers that there's a thin line between love and hate. Adriko has no use for love. His focus is power, his goal is revenge. But what do you do when your greatest threat is your most sinful desire? A pawn in the game... A Bride for a truce...
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Chapter 7

    ADRIKO'S POV.

    I lit my cigar and took a deep puff. I always love Cubans. They tend to calm me down.

    They brought him. 

    The predatel (betrayer ) who thought he could get away with working with my enemies.

    Matvei was my head of security, he had been at my side for five years. I'd trusted him to guard my life and family but he has betrayed that trust. 

    I pondered on the best way to punish him, that would send a clear message to the other members of my bratva. Don't want these people to think i'm getting soft.

    I pointed to my men. "Take him down to the basement and tie him up. I'll be there shortly".

    They drag him away as he screams for mercy. By the time I'm done, he won't be screaming. I take my time and finish my cigar, then make my way towards the basement in quick steps. 

    The room is cold, its stone walls damp, illuminated by a single bulb swaying slightly from the ceiling.

    Sergei has my tools lined up and waiting. Pliers, a blowtorch, a hammer, and an assortment of blades.

    I proceed to roll up my sleeves. It's about to get messy.

    I pick up the pliers as I circle him. He's chained to the basement ceiling, legs up, head down. 

    "It's funny how you thought you could dine with my enemies and get away with it". I pause behind him and click the button for the lever and it immediately descends, dropping him to the floor. 

    I gesture to my men and they proceed to strap him to the chair. "Do you know the difference between bravery and stupidity?" I asked, my voice low and measured. 

    He didn't answer, his burst-up lips trembling as he stared at me like a cornered animal. I crouched down, my face now level with his. 

    "Bravery," I said quietly "is knowing when to speak." I let my words hang in the air before leaning in closer "Stupidity is thinking you can lie to me".

    I grip his chin, forcing him to look me in the eye. "So tell me" I murmured, "which one are you?"

    He shakes his head vigorously, the fabric on his mouth preventing him from speaking, fear evident in his eyes. Coward. I straighten up and clamp my hand around the pliers, testing their grip.

    "Let's find out which you are".

    I grab his hand and clamp the pliers on his left pinky and in one deft movement, sever it from his hand. His muffled screams tear through the gags and a wet patch is immediately visible on his thighs. The idiot wet himself.

    I tore off the restraint and his tortured screams envelope the room. "Are you ready to talk now?" I demand 

    "P-please," he wheezed, struggling for air "I'll talk!" 

    I took a step back, watching him sag in on himself. "Good", I said, my voice ice cold. "Then start with this ,Who were you meeting with?" The CCTV hadn't properly captured the face of the other man. He had been calculative enough to avoid the cameras. 

    Matvei hesitated, his gaze darting to Sergei as if looking for salvation. He wouldn't find it.

    "Every second you waste is another piece of you I take" I warned, glancing at the table behind me.

    The blowtorch looks tempting. I reached for it, before turning back to him. His breathing grew ragged.

    "Last chance" I snarl. He screams in agony as I turn it on and face the full force of the flames on his thighs.

    "It was Oda!" He blurted, his words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "An enforcer in the Yakuza!".

    "They paid me to give them intel! Please, I told you what you wanted-"

    I put on the blowtorch while ripping out another finger. His screams echoed off the walls. "You think that's enough?" I asked tossing the pliers onto the table with a clatter. Blood dripped from my hands onto the cold floor. 

    "What did they promise you?" I question, my voice dripping in contempt. He looks up at me in helplessness.

    "Your position". He breathes in a shaky voice "They promised that I'll be the new Pakhan once you were eliminated". 

    "They promised you my position?!" I repeated, my voice a low growl. I leaned closer, my eyes narrowing. "You couldn't even protect your own,What made you think you could handle mine?"

    "I want names. Every contact.Every place you've been.", my voice drops to a deadly whisper "Don't make me ask twice". 

    His chest heaved as he sobbed, his sweat and tears mixing with blood. "pozhaluysta" (please) he begged "It was just Oda and a few men. I don't know their names but we meet at the warehouse on Pier 19! That's all I know, I swear!" he rushes out. 

    I straightened, staring at Sergei. "Verify it".

    He nodded, pulling out his phone and stepping out of the room. I turned back to Matvei. His head hung low, blood dripping onto the concrete floor. 

    "You know what happens to anyone that breaks Vorovskoy Zakon right?" I ask, grabbing a fistful of his hair so he's forced to look at me. (The code of thieves)

    "Please" he rasped, his voice barely audible. "I have a family-" 

    "So did the people that died in that explosion " I snapped picking the knife from the table. "And they didn't get a choice either". 

    The blade was sharp, slicing cleanly across his throat. His body jerked once, then sagged against the restraints as blood pooled beneath the chair. 

    The door creaked open and Sergei stepped back in. "Pier 19 checks out," he reports "What do we do now boss?" 

    I wiped the blade on the dead man's shirt before slipping it back into its sheath. "We send a message ", I said. My voice cold and firm. "Burn the warehouse. Leave no survivors . "Make sure they know who did it". Sergei nodded, already pulling out his phone to relay the message.

    A commotion breaks out outside and Dima barges in, panic evident in his face. 

    "There's a situation boss" he rushes out. "Your wife is in the hospital, she's not breathing".

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