Innocent Prisoner of the Bratva
A Bratva psycho claimed me with a ruthless bid, stripped me off my innocence, and cursed me with his child.
I was dragged onto that stage in chains when he first noticed me.
He’s nearly twice my age, with violence in his veins.
He tells me I’m his prize. His obsession. His captive.
My mission was to arrest men like him, now I’m in his bed.
My innocence was his to claim, stolen in a moment of rage and desire.
He marked me as his woman, binding me tighter with every touch.
Now his child grows inside me, binding me to him forever.
His scars terrify me, his violence cages me, and his obsession consumes me.
I should hate him. But his touch burns hotter than my fear.
His enemies want me dead, yet in his arms, I’m untouchable.
He kills for me. He cages me. He whispers that I belong to him.
Can I trust the father of my child to protect me, or will his cruel love shatter me beyond repair?
In Chicago the rule of the Tarasov Bratva is the law. These men are as disciplined with their chiseled appearance as they are with the code of honor, revenge, and bloodshed they lie by. They take what they want, and if that is you, be prepared to be claimed, protected, satisfied, and hunted for the rest of your life… will you go willingly?
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