Sold To The Bratva Boss Read online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Sold To The Bratva Boss

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Flora Ferrari

Language:
English
Book Information:

I should be terrified of this man.
Artem Elgort bought me at an auction. I was kidnapped and made to wear a bikini and with the word VIRGIN on it, and this man bought me. I should hate him, right?
And yet when he takes me to his plush billionaire’s estate and I spend more time around this primal possessive alpha, feelings stir inside of me that have no place in what should be hell. But for a so-called hell, it sure is starting to feel like heaven.
I’m eighteen years old, an orphan. I was the loser – the nobody – in high school and I’ve got absolutely no experience. He’s forty-two years old and the master of a criminal empire that could rival world governments. It shouldn’t work. It can’t work. And yet when this silver-haired bear drinks me in with his suggestive eyes, I feel myself responding, big time.
What should be oh-so-wrong starts to feel oh-so-right, and when he says he’s claiming me as his, forever, I feel myself melting like butter under his savage hands.
But there’s a war in the city. Artem’s enemies are linked to me in some way, a mystery that might bring this whole house of cards crashing down.
And Artem’s hiding a secret, too. He’s not the man he wants the world to believe he is. He’s more, so much more. And as I spend more time around the muscular, dominating Bratva boss, I start to wonder if maybe I can be something more too.
Books by Author:

Flora Ferrari



Chapter One

Artem

I sit in the back of the limousine with my second in command, Gavrie, feeling the cool ache from my gym workout move up and down my body. My steel colored suit hugs closely to my body and I feel my biceps tightening, squeezing, with the punishment I put them through earlier today.

Working out my body keeps my mind ready and alert, allows me to relax enough to respond calmly to any situation I need to. Otherwise, there’s this fucking inferno inside of me, raging all the time, this swirling mass of fire and passion and rage that I can’t seem to quiet.

Maybe my childhood, lingering.

Those dark pits, those indignations, and all that blood …

I sigh and push those thoughts away, or try to.

Lately, I’ve been thinking more about finding a woman, finding somebody with whom I can share my vast empire. But of course the search has been in vain, as it has always been.

I’ll know – just know, deep down, without thought – when I see her.

And I’ve yet to see a woman who even comes close.

Gavrie arches an eyebrow. “All good, boss?”

I nod and glance out of the window. We’re on the outskirts of the city, approaching a club that sits at the end of a row of buildings. Spotlights cut the sky and a red carpet has been laid out in front, with suited men already walking up the carpet and into the building.

Mafiosi, Triads, Cartel and Yakuza, all of them gathering here to do business.

And of course me, the leader of the Bratva.

A slave auction is neutral ground. Emilio told me so over the phone, sounding very proud of himself.

He doesn’t know about my past, of course.

Nobody does.

I feel a twisting stab in my gut when I think about walking into that building, but Gavrie assures me that smoothing things over with Emilio is of vital importance to our business. And, as always, business comes first.

Gavrie leans forward, flashing his gold watch. He’s a few years younger than me at thirty-eight, with a shaved head dotted here and there with Russian tattoos, his body thick and stocky, if not muscular.

He wears a deep blue suit, and his eyes seem magnified in his frameless spectacles.

“These men think this makes them strong,” I murmur. “Selling slaves, buying slaves. Kidnapping women. They think it gives them power. But if you stripped them of their men and their weapons, if they ran into the wrong man in a dark alley late at night and all they had was their violence and their grit to save them, how tough do you think they’d be?”

Gavrie frowns, perhaps detecting the tremor in my voice. But then the limousine pulls up and a woman in a golden bikini opens our door, her tassels shaking as she waves a hand.

These, at least, are willing, paid staff members. I made sure of that. Every single woman working here will be paid a fair wage and be allowed to go home without threat to her life or her dignity. The women inside, though, that’s a different matter.

“Sacred ground,” Gavrie assured me, after Emilio had said his piece. “We can’t afford a war with the Italians.”

“It’s a way to assert his dominance, or his pathetic attempt, at least,” I growl. “He thinks if he can drag me here, he can get me to do anything. It’ll be a very bad day for him when he finds out just how wrong he is.”

We walk up the red carpet together.

I pull my shoulders back and hold my head high, and stride directly into the building and toward the upper balcony, where we’re going to be seated for the auction.

I don’t stop to shake the hands of the other crime syndicates, because otherwise my temper might snap, my taut, tight rage might be set free and I’ll crush a jaw, break a skull, shatter a collarbone when I think about the capricious sadism some of these bastards indulge in.

Emilio stands up from the table when I push aside the curtain separating us from the hallway. Three of his men stand against the wall, silent, watching.

Emilio himself is a skinny, beanpole-built man with a sharp nose and a black whiskery mustache. He leans on a silver pommeled cane, the head a carved fist. He must be around twenty-five, if that, the sort of man who’d kill his father to take over the organization …

But those are just rumors.

“Artem, my friend,” he beams, offering me the hand not clutched around the fist of his cane. “How wonderful that you are here. I was starting to get worried, you know. I was just saying to my men here, Jesus, I hope he gets here on time. He wouldn’t want to miss the fun. And of course, there’s business to be discussed, after the festivities.”

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