Stealing The Bratva Bride Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
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Plus, my parents are still completely icing me out. They want nothing to do with me, and that’s made more apparent by my brother, Stepyan. He’s the only one who will talk to me, though by talk, I mean he keeps calling me to call me a whore. I’ve had to block his number because he called me twenty times in my first two days here.

Stepyan and I used to be close as children, but once we were teenagers, it was clear to me he had all the freedom. He didn’t have to agree to get married to go to school. He didn’t have to travel around with a bodyguard and only interact with members of the same sex.

Stepyan had dozens of girlfriends in high school. I didn’t resent him at the time, but as I got older, I realized what a double standard it was. He was a boy, the heir, so he got all the freedom and none of the same requirements. He was allowed to have a life, while I was caged up and unable to enjoy all the world had to offer.

It also didn’t help that he was the better looking sibling, while I inherited all the childbearing hips my female ancestors had passed down. Boys in high school wouldn’t have looked at me twice, even if I hadn’t been guarded so closely. Everything came so easy to Stepyan, but I had to suffer the curse of bad genes.

Now he hates me because I left his best friend at the altar. It breaks my heart that he would take Niko’s side over mine. It also breaks my heart that he can’t see how none of this was my choice. It wasn’t my choice to get married, and it certainly wasn’t my choice to leave that church. I was kidnapped, for goodness sake!

None of that matters to him. Niko is the brother he always wanted, and I’m the sister he resents. I feel like I have no family and no one to turn to. There’s only Ivan, who isn’t here. I should pack the clothes he bought me and go back to my family to beg for their forgiveness. What could he possibly do to me?

I know in my heart that I’m not going to do that. Ivan fascinates me and lights me up in a way I’ve never experienced before. He’s giving me a key to the world, and I don’t have to be a prisoner here. Even now, I could leave the apartment and explore Central Park if I wanted to. My heart races in my chest at the thought, and I know I’ll stay safe inside this apartment. But it’s nice to know the option is there.

Around dinner time, there’s a knock on my door. I’m sure it’s the cook, who’s been leaving me trays of food at mealtimes. When I go to open the door, though, it’s one of the maids. She smiles at me and tells me that Mr. Sidorov requests my presence at dinner.

I roll my eyes and bristle at this. He’s been gone for three days, but he thinks I’ll come when he calls? I consider my options, though. If I don’t go to eat with him, I’ll be stuck in my room for another night, not speaking to anyone but myself. I do crave his company.

I follow the maid down the hallway and the stairs to the first floor of the penthouse. She walks me through the kitchen and to the dining room that looks ill-used. The table is set beautifully with a centerpiece and lit candles. Ivan is seated at one end of the table, with another place setting to his right.

I sit down hesitantly, and he immediately starts talking, as if he’s been here all along and we’re continuing an earlier conversation.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I had the cook prepare a variety of dishes,” he says, piling my plate high with meats and rice and bread. “I was thinking tomorrow we could go to the store and get you a new computer.”

I stare at him incredulously. He wants to buy me a new computer? What’s his game?

“That’s a nice offer, but—” I start.

“You need it for school, right?” he says at the same time, stunning me.

School? I thought school would be off the table. What’s his angle?

“I assume you want to pick out your own computer, since you’re the computer scientist,” he continues, making my heart leap.

How does he know all this? My heart pounds in my chest, but I refuse to let myself hope. There’s no way he’s offering to let me go back to school. Not without a catch.

“I’m not a computer scientist yet,” I say simply, not sure what else I can offer to the conversation. “I still have two years left of school.”



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