Brute has vowed to kill all of the Golubev Bratva. They are the enemy and he has formed a group of men, an MC, who want nothing more than to see them all fall.
When Faith Dawson goes on a date from hell for her mother, she had no idea it was going to end up getting her kidnapped. She tried to hide the fact her grandfather is Sergey Golubev, but there is no hiding anything.
The man who has taken her knows who she is. In this war, there is never any chance for survivors. It is well known that Sergey adores his granddaughter, and Brute wants to see how far he’s willing to go to protect her.
When Sergey offers a trade, Faith for one of his men, he has no choice but to take it. He has no interest in Faith—she was a means to an end, and so, he sends her off.
Brute may have released her, but when he learns of her upcoming marriage to a trafficker, he cannot just let it happen. He takes her. Faith will belong to him. But Brute knows it is only a matter of time until Sergey retaliates. He will be ready. Until then, he was going to have his fun with Faith. She has gotten under his skin and seeped into his heart. There is no turning back.
Brute stepped into the room, and this time he didn’t close it behind him. He surprised her even more by lowering down on one knee and gripping her ankle. Only one was secure to the bed, and she shouldn’t care what it meant or how it felt, but there was a spark when he touched her. A sudden bolt of heat traveled up her leg and spread throughout her whole body.
She gritted her teeth and took a long, deep breath.
It was fine. Perfectly fine. This meant nothing.
She couldn’t help but think about the kiss and then she felt like even more of a fool. The kiss had meant nothing. He had only done it to silence her. She knew that, as did he. He wasn’t pining for her. The kiss was a means to an end.
Don’t trust him.
She took a deep breath as the lock releasing seemed to echo around the room.
The chain around her ankle slid down and she was finally free. She had a few seconds where she thought about making a run for it, but she had told him she wouldn’t. She’d never break her word.
Brute stood up and he was so close. She had no choice but to take a step back. She tilted her head and looked up into his blue eyes. They looked so beautiful and yet, she knew the man behind them was nothing like his eyes. He was the Devil. There was no doubt about it. She couldn’t trust him, or this newfound kindness, if it was even that.
He held out his hand. “You’re going to have to take it.”
Looking at his hand, she wanted to tell him no, but what was wrong with touching him? She was never going to forget he was the enemy, so she placed her hand within his and ignored the bolt of heat that traveled up her body.
It didn’t matter. None of this mattered.
She took another deep breath, one she hoped he didn’t hear, and then followed him out of the cell.
This would be the first time she had stepped foot out of it—apart from using the bathroom, but that didn’t count—since he placed her inside. She didn’t have on any shoes or socks and the ground felt different. It was slightly smoother out of the cell.
He moved to the set of steps and Brute went up first. He didn’t let go of her hand, but she didn’t see anything romantic in his grip. She was still his prisoner, at his mercy.
He opened the door and there was noise as they entered the main house again. The door had opened into a section of the kitchen.
Stepping through but staying behind Brute, she couldn’t help but glance up, and she saw a couple of people. None of them she recognized. They all looked disgusted and placed hands over their noses and mouths. She smelled really bad.
Brute didn’t linger, he was already walking her out of the kitchen.
Her face heated at the reaction of the people they passed. This wasn’t good or fun or nice. This was horrible. She didn’t know if she’d rather be kept in her cell in the basement and just have buckets of warm water thrown on her. That might be better than having to deal with this humiliation. She hated it. They were all cruel.
She bowed her head so she didn’t have to witness their reactions and only looked up when the floor changed and she was standing on linoleum. Never in her life had she felt so pleased to be standing on a different kind of floor.
She was an idiot. How dare they? It wasn’t like the clubhouse was in any good working order. With nothing to protect her feet, she felt how sticky the floor was, how unkept it was, and yet they treated her that way. I stink really bad.
The door to the bathroom closed and she heard another lock, which made her look up to see that Brute had locked them both inside the bathroom.
“You’re going to watch me?” she asked.
“I’ve got to make sure you don’t try anything stupid. Now, you choose—shower or bath?”