The Bratva Don's Forced Bride & His Secret Baby

Anya's POV

As a little girl, I had always imagined my wedding. The long beautiful white gown, strangers drooling as I walked down the aisle to meet a man who looked at me like I was the miracle he prayed for.

But here today, that was not the case.

The white gown I was wearing only seemed to itch me, just standing close to Nikolai had me cursing under my breath, and yet I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with this man-a very short time I guessed.

The priest begins in Russian. I barely hear the words. My pulse pounds against my ears.

Do you take this man?

I almost laughed.

Nikolai Vetrov was not a man, he was the devil. It was no secret that the Vetrovs were cannibals; their bloodline had produced some of the most monstrous men in Russia.

"You may now place the ring on the bride's finger."

Nikolai looked at me. "Give me your hand, Anya." He said solemnly.

I refused to move, fear crippling me. If I got past this stage, there was no going back; I will be married to him for life. The Bratva doesn't know divorce; the only way to leave the marriage is in a body bag.

Nikolai closes in and lifts my hand, I yank it back. He growls softly. "You are making a scene, Anya." He whispered to me in a voice that scared me.

I turned to the audience; this was a gathering of men who took lives for a living, some of the most dangerous people on the planet. I met my father's eyes; it bore a warning as always. If this marriage fails, he will shoot me himself.

"Bastard" I cursed silently, finally giving him my hand.

**

We were back at his place, it was my first time in the Vetrov mansion. It was his personal room; Nikolai didn't even have the decency of offering me my own room, I have to share the same space with the man who I loathe with all my heart.

"Why do I have to stay in the same room as you?" I asked with folded arms.

"It is for your own protection, Kiddo."

I frowned when he called me Kiddo; I remember him calling me that four years ago, I didn't like it then, and I still don't like it now.

"Stop talking to me like I am a child." I said between gritted teeth.

"But aren't you, Anya? What are you now? Twenty?"

"I am twenty-one!" I yelled.

"Kiddo." He chuckled. "I have some business to attend to, I will see you later in the evening... Wife," he added as he walked away, leaving me cussing in that room.

I turned to the bed and my heart raced. I will kill myself, before I let that man touch me again. I quickly used the pillows to divide the large bed.

I sat on one side of the bed for hours, but Nikolai didn't come back. What was he doing out there?

I knew how messy Bratva business could be and knowing that he could go out one day and never come back brought me some relief, but the one thing worse than being a Bratva wife is being a Bratva widow.

Finally my husband returned late at night, he looked exhausted but he concealed it with a solemn face.

I sat up on the bed the moment he walked in.

"What is this?" he asked bluntly, pointing to the bed.

"We might be married, Nikolai, for the sake of our families, but we will not have a real relationship. You will stay on your side and I will stay on mine, if you even as much as breathe in my direction, I will stab you in the chest." I warned him.

He stared at me silently, before casually saying, "Okay."

And then he walked to the other side of the bed and lay down, using his huge arms as pillow under his head and crossing his legs.

I was baffled. Okay? Just like that?

"What are you doing?" I asked, my eyes fixated on him.

He looked towards me on his left. "You said I should stay on this side, didn't you, wife? I promise I will not touch you unless you come over to my side first." He smiled.

I scoffed. In his dreams!

"Well you are not going to go to bed dressed in your wedding suit, are you? And why do you have your shoes on? At least take a shower!" I scolded in irritation.

I just needed any reason to scream at him right now.

Nikolai laughed, turning to rest on his elbow and his face in his palm. "What do you care what I do on my own side of the bed, Wife?"

"Stop calling me that!" I protested.

"You don't want me to call you wife or kiddo, so what do you like? Should I call you Mistress?"

"You!" I clenched my fist, gnashing my teeth in rage.

He wore that smug smile on his face that made me want to punch him.

"Aren't you a hypocrite? You still have your wedding gown on." He pointed out.

It was then that I remembered, I had been so concerned with making sure that nothing happens on our wedding night that I haven't bothered to take a shower or change out of my wedding gown.

I huffed and lay back on the bed, turning my back to him. Soon I heard Nikolai stand up from his side of the bed.

I slowly took a peek at what he was doing. Standing at one end of the room, he had taken off his suit and pants, I immediately looked away, not wanting to stare, or at least be caught staring.

But seconds later, I couldn't resist taking another peek. He was now bare-chested and my jaw dropped at the sight of his body.

The last time I saw him without clothes, he had only the Bratva tattoo; the twin stars of a Vor v Zakone on his left chest; stars that marked him as untouchable in the Bratva.

But now his entire upper body was covered in ink; Dragons and demons. I know those tattoos. No, it was not the Chinese Triads; this... this was Irezumi, a traditional tattoo style belonging to the Yakuza; the fucking Japanese Mafia.

Was that where he had been these past four years?

I was stunned. Why would a Bratva Don wear the mark of another syndicate?

"There is not enough hot water for two, but we can share," Nikolai's voice shook me out of my thoughts.

"Huh? No way I am bathing with you!"

He laughed. "Suit yourself then."

He walked back into the bathroom and I cursed. Fuck, I hated to bath cold water, and now he was going to make me do it.

My eyes lingered towards the half-open bathroom door, wondering if he still had that weapon between his legs. My memory from four years ago was foggy, but I remembered his third leg had left me stunned at first sight back then.

Long, veiny, thick... Fuck! Why am I thinking about his cock?!

When he got out with nothing but the towel hanging low on his hips, I felt my throat dry up. The steam coming off his tattooed body was so hot; he had gotten more muscular in the last four years.

His shoulders were broad, veins tracing down his forearms, his skin tanned with lean muscles, his abs were divided into eight and with each breath, his chest rose and fell slowly.

I swallowed saliva. Fighting back the thoughts in my head.

"Don't sit there and eye rape me, go take a shower and change out of that." He spoke casually, his cold voice sending shivers through my body.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him. I felt the urge to defile his orders, show him that he was not the boss of me, that he does not own me like he thinks, but at what cost? My own discomfort?

After bathing, I came out to find him sleeping on his own side of the bed. He was in bed with no shirts on, just his sweatpants. So he baths hot water and then goes to bed in sweatpants? What monster was he?

As I changed into my nightwear and turned back to him, an idea crossed my mind. It was a foolish one but I acted on impulse.

I picked one of the pillows and tiptoed to his side of the bed. I tried to press it down on his face but his eyes shot open right that moment and he caught my hand.

Before I could scream, he flipped me over, pressing my hands above my head on the bed, his body pinning me down.

"Trying to kill me on our wedding night, how cute." He growled, now fully awake

I lay there with my heart racing, realizing what a foolish thing I had done. I just tried to murder a fucking Bratva Don under his own roof. He was not going to spare me now.

T. B. C!!

I struggled as Nikolai pinned my hands together with just a single hand, his shirtless body hovering over me.

"Let me go!" I cried out in genuine panic.

"So dramatic, you could have just asked for a divorce." He said in a low voice, his amusement throwing me off.

He wasn't angry?

"You think this is a joke?" I blurted from beneath him.

"Your foolish attempt at killing me? Yes, Anya. You saw my tattoos, you know what it takes to earn those and yet you thought you could kill me with a pillow. What a silly girl!"

"Fuck you!" I cursed as I wiggled under him. "Next time I will use something sharp." I spat.

He chuckled darkly. "This mouth of yours will get you in more trouble than your hands ever will." He said as his eyes rested on my lips and my body shuddered.

He lowered his head. "You know," he let out a soft growl in my ears. "I have killed men for lesser offenses than what you just did. So how should I punish you, Wife?"

My heart skipped a beat. Punish me? What would he do to me?

When his eyes moved to my lips again, I knew what he was going to do and yet I couldn't stop him, I didn't stop him!

You promised! I wanted to scream, but it was too late.

He crushed my lips with his and kissed me fiercely. It was hot and domineering, like a savage beast he owned my lips, fully claiming them; the soothing taste of caffeine lingering between.

At first I tried to fight him, but just like my hands that had remained imprisoned in his, my lips didn't stand a chance.

My resistance melted under his warm breath as he ravished my lips while I struggled to catch my breath. I had forgotten what a good kisser he was. I found myself giving in to him, unconsciously raising my head to kiss him back.

It was when his free hand grabbed my thigh and gently slid down my nightie, sending a sensation running through my body, that I regained my senses.

Fuck no! I can't let him do this!

Sensing his grip on my hand had loosened, I kicked him with my knee from between his open legs and then pushed him off me.

I jumped off the bed breathing like a lizard that had fallen off a tall tree. Without looking back I ran to the door, trying to leave the room, but as I turned the door knob and pulled the handle, I came to the realization that the door was locked.

"Open!" I screamed in frustration while pulling hard.

Just then I heard keys jiggling behind. I looked back and found him waving a bunch of keys while calmly sitting down at the front edge of the bed.

"Even if you managed to snatch it off me, it will still take you a couple minutes to find the right key. Like I said, foolish girl." He smiled evilly.

I stood there, my face dropping in disappointment. How do I outsmart a man like Nikolai Vetrov?

I folded my hands and swallowed hard. "Open the door... I want out. I do not want to be your wife anymore; you cannot keep me here against my wish!" I stated.

"Hmm... You are right," he said, lying back on a pillow with both hands comfortably crossed behind his head, his muscles glowing under the bedside lamp.

"I cannot stop you from leaving, but if you walk out that door, my deal with your father is canceled. And with the way things have been lately, I don't think he will make it past this week when his enemies hear that he is no longer under my protection." Nikolai smirked evilly.

I paused, my body naturally giving up the idea upon hearing that. I hated that he was right.

No, I didn't care if my father got taken out; he was a monster who deserved death. What I was afraid of was what would happen after his death.

With the Patriarch of the Sokolov family gone, my sisters and I will be vulnerable to attacks. Quite alright, Big sister Katerina might take over with her husband, but she was worse than my father.

So yes, I needed my father alive, for now.

"If you are done thinking about it, come to bed, Kiddo." Nikolai gently tapped the space beside him.

I cursed silently and slowly walked down to him. One of these days, I won't need him anymore and I will drive the dagger through his heart myself.

I got on the bed and lay with my back to him. There was silence between us for a while and then his voice came again.

"Don't you want to know why I left?"

I huffed. "No... It is too late now." I muttered as I turned off the bedside lamp.

But deep down I wished he would tell me. I heard him sigh and turn off his own light.

For the past four years, I had wondered the answer to that question. And in the beginning, I tried to make up excuses for him, tell myself that he had a good reason. But as time went on and I never heard from him, it became clear to me.

He didn't need a reason; he was just like every other man. He had gotten between my legs and then vanished.

What I couldn't understand was why he needed to pretend to be nice to get it? He had snatched me from my abductors, he could have forced himself on me; I was just seventeen and he was a full grown man.

If his intentions were just to fuck me, he could have done it with or without my consent. Why did he go to great lengths to make me fall for him first? Why pretend to be a good person for days, showering me with love and care.

Was this all a sick game to him?

Tears rolled down my eyes as I thought about it. I hate you Nikolai Vetrov, I hate what you did to me and I will never forgive you!

T. B. C!!

A week ago...

Anya's POV

Having five daughters and no son is the equivalent of being doomed as a career politician in Russia, and if my father had known it would turn out this way, he might have adopted a son twenty years ago at least.

My father, Dmitri Sokolov, was hosting a gala for Moscow's elites today; it was not unusual in my family. What was unusual was him summoning all of his daughters in the morning of that day.

He cleared his throat before he spoke. "For the past forty years since I took over from my father, I have protected this family and its interests, but now our enemies are growing stronger. The Barinov family is becoming a bigger threat with every rising sun and we cannot sit back and watch their power and influence grow unchecked."

From the look in his eyes, I could tell my father, the ruthless power-hungry Oligarch was scared, and whatever scared Dmitri Sokolov would certainly put me in a wheelchair; that was how serious it was, but not to me.

I have never been one to concern myself with what goes on in the family, not after what happened to me four years ago. I try to live my life as far away from their activities as possible.

"...This is why I have decided to make a new alliance with the Vetrov family; one found through marriage." My father continued.

"The Vetrov family? But they are our enemies, Father." My eldest sister Katerina chirped in.

I sat upright immediately, not for the same reasons as my sister. Yes, the Vetrov family was our enemies, but father just casually announced arranging a marriage between our family and theirs.

Was he marrying Irina off to the enemy?

His first three daughters were married, it was just Irina and I. She was 23 and I was 21, so she was next in line to get married.

Turning to her beside me on the couch, I could already see the look of defeat in her eyes. Marrying into a Bratva family was punishment enough, but one that despised our family? That was equal to sentencing her to a life of hell.

"Yes, the Vetrovs are our enemies, but we share a common enemy now, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Luka Vetrov was murdered and so his brother is returning tonight to take over the family business, he is also Bratva. I have spoken to them and the returning younger son is interested in our offer; A wife in exchange for protection." Father announced.

I recoiled at the mere thought of marrying a Vetrov; those monsters, I feel so bad for Irina.

"When he arrives today, your engagement to him will be announced at the gala, so you must wear something nice, Anya."

I froze, slowly looking up in confusion. At first I thought that father had mixed up our names again, he usually didn't know which one of us was Irina and Anya, and what would you expect from a father who never has time for his kids?

But when I saw his eyes staring in my direction, I felt my heartbeat pause.

No, this can't be.

"Me?" I muttered, pointing to myself.

"Yes Anya, you will be the bride. I have other responsibilities for your sister."

"What? No way! You cannot be serious father!" I protested.

That was a foolish thing to say, my father was always serious.

"Quiet! You have had your fun, Anya. For the past few years, I let you do whatever you pleased; parties, university, New York. Now it is time for you to do something for your family and you will not shy away from your responsibilities."

I stood up immediately. "My family? You mean your empire! Half of the times you don't even know my name, and here you want to sell me off to your enemy and all for what?"

My father immediately walked over to me and slapped me right across the face. I held my sore cheek in shock; it is not like I didn't see it coming. No one speaks to Dmitri Sokolov in that tone.

"This is not a debate you ungrateful child, be lucky I don't feed you to the wild dogs for being so useless. Now you will go into your room and get one of your best dresses, put it on tonight and come out to meet your groom, is that clear?" he yelled.

I nodded, refusing to cry. And then I stormed off to my room, pain stinging in my heart. I could not believe it, I was a forced bride for a Bratva Kingpin whose first name I didn't even know.

But this was the Mafia life, this was life as a politician's daughter, this was life as a girl child. You don't get a say in your own life, your story is written by the hands of other people.

Except I am not your average girl child, my father might be Dmitri Sokolov but he is not the only one with the Sokolov blood running through his veins, he wouldn't get to have the final say.

Later that evening, I dressed up in a red flowy gown embroidered with beads. I walked into the room full of people, many with masks on their faces; a familiar sight.

My father's gala glittered with cold charm; some of the most powerful men in Russia were here, with women dripping in diamonds paid for with dirty money. Not a single soul in here was innocent.

I saw father signal me to approach him and I dragged my legs to where he stood.

"Smile Anya, you are about to meet your future husband." He said to me as he took my hand.

When a single muscle on my face didn't move, he tightened his grip on my wrist and that was all the warning I needed to force a smile.

Father led me forward and my eyes soon caught sight of a man standing in a black suit with his back to us, he was speaking with another man who walked away the moment he saw us coming.

"Mr. Nikolai, please meet my daughter Anya, your future bride." Father announced.

The man turned to face us, and right that moment, my smile faded and my blood iced. I knew him, not as Nikolai Vetrov but Vladimir Mikhail; Someone I never wished to set my eyes upon again.

This man standing right there ruined love for me; he was a man I swore to hate till my last breath.

T. B. C!