Sold to the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Lavrin Bratva) Nicole Fox (most popular novels TXT) 📖

piss him off too much. There’s no telling what he might do to me—what any of these people might do to me, really.

I undress, peeling off the oversized suit coat, my torn blouse, and my leather miniskirt. I pause for a moment and look down at myself, clad only in a pair of sheer lace panties. My pale elbows are mottled with bruises where Stephen/Augustin squeezed me at the nightclub. It feels like that was a million years ago. With another heavy sigh, I slink into the blue dress and pull it up around me. The material is surprisingly soft, but truth be told, I just want a warm pair of pajamas right now.

“I’m done,” I say. The door is yanked open and the bodyguard stomps in again.

“Let’s go.”

This time, he doesn’t poke me, but leads the way to an outside terrace. The area is almost as large as the inside of the penthouse. In the middle of a cast iron table is a beautiful centerpiece made up of lilies and surrounded by candles. Wine sits in a silver bucket of ice and two entrees of seared steak and a medley of potatoes and fresh vegetables lie waiting. The smell of the food makes me realize how hungry I’m. When did I last eat? I can see the steam rising from the food into the cool night air. My mouth is watering and I feel weak all of a sudden, like I might fall down if I don’t eat right this second.

Then a cough pulls me from my daze.

I turn to meet the gaze of the man from the auction.

He’s standing behind one of the chairs at the table. He gestures at the other as he says in a smooth, low rumble, “If you would, please join me for dinner. I’m sure you must be hungry.”

I don’t reply. I just stare at him, as if he sprouted a new head.

He steps forward towards me. My first instinct is to jump back. He must see my fear, because he smiles and raises his hands as if to show me he means no harm. I almost laugh out loud. The man who bought me, who abducted me, who might very well end this night by tossing me off the fortieth-floor balcony—he means no harm. Just a nice guy, really, I’m sure. Loves his mom, donates to charity, saved a kitten from a tree once. The whole thing is a sick, cruel irony.

He comes around to the back of the second chair and pulls it out for me. “Please, take a seat.”

Part of me wants to argue, but the part of me that’s famished chooses the path of least resistance. I hesitantly sit in the chair he’s offering. He makes his way back across the table and takes his seat. “What is your name?” he says politely.

“What’s yours?” The words rush from my mouth before I can stop them.

He smiles and says, “I’m Nikita Lavrin.”

Nikita Lavrin. I say the name inside my head. It’s a strong name, and the way he says it is so confident, like it’s the most valuable of all his riches. He says it like I should know who he is, although I don’t have the faintest idea.

All at once, my anger comes boiling to the surface. ‘Angry Annie,’ my grandmother used to call me when I’d lose my temper. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, I was a terror and a half. And if anyone has ever deserved the full brunt of my wrath, it’s this rich pretty boy smiling at me from across the table.

“So, Nikita Lavrin,” I spit, “What makes you think, after getting kidnapped, dragged around, and damn near threatened with rape for half the night, that I’m in the mood for a steak dinner and small talk with someone who purchased me? Do you think I’m having fun? Do you think this is enjoyable? You’re a monster, and you need to let me go right now, or I’ll call the police.”

The words pour out of me in a big rush, but as soon as I’m done speaking, I immediately regret it. I shouldn’t have said any of that, especially not with so much venom. And especially since I have no idea who I’m actually dealing with.

He doesn’t say anything. His eyes are dark and unreadable. This is my first time seeing him up close and personal like this. At the auction, the room was too dark and although I could make out some of his features—and that he was handsome—it didn’t prepare me for how beautiful he is up close. His lips are pale and thin and his nose slender and rounded. His eyes are the green of fresh dew. A prominent jaw drawn in a graceful slash reveals the strength of his neck, wrought with twining cords of muscle. He’s an Adonis ... and I’m in trouble.

Then he smiles again.

“You’ve had quite a night,” he says. “Please eat. There will be time for answers after you have some food in you.”

And just like that, my outburst is over. His voice has a weird effect on me. It’s equal parts calming and invigorating, like a splash of cold water to the face while my core heats up. My anger disappears completely and in its place once more is the throbbing hunger that’s been killing me since the second the scent of the steak first hit my nostrils.

I pick up my fork and poke at the tender meat on my plate. Caving, I take a bite and nearly exclaim at the explosion of flavor that floods my taste buds. The meat is savory, tender, and has the faintest hint of pepper. I moan as I chew. God, I’ve never tasted anything so delicious.

Satisfied that I’m eating, Nikita takes a bite of his own. I watch him carefully from the corner of my eye as I keep devouring the food on my plate. He reaches over and pours wine into my glass and then