The Mistake (Volkov Bratva #3) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Volkov Bratva Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
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He lifted her veil and I saw the tears in her eyes. Rage hesitated. He held her hands and I tensed up, waiting.

No one should have guns at the church, but everyone had a way of sneaking them inside. I had one strapped to my leg. I also had three knives inside my trousers. I never went anywhere without being prepared.

Rage placed her hand in mine, but I knew he didn’t want to. As for Charlotte, she shook. I expected her to put up a fight, but she surprised me. I moved her up the steps and she followed. It was then I noticed her feet were bare. She didn’t wear any heels. I wanted to ask her why, but now was not the time.

The music came to a stop and a priest started his sermon. I drowned out the noise because I wasn’t interested. There was a time I did have faith and believed in a higher power. It had taken years for that belief to be stripped from me, but it had, and now, I ignored the words. They meant nothing. They were nothing.

Neither of us had written vows and when the time came to recite them, Ivan stepped in and whispered against the priest’s ear, and the priest’s face went bright red. I didn’t know what Ivan said, but it was enough to make the priest blush. I had to stifle a laugh.

He asked the question about anyone objecting to the marriage and part of me wanted Rage to scream out, to tell them that he did, that he didn’t want us to get married. My wedding would end in a bloodbath, and I so wanted to kill someone.

Nothing. No one said a word.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Now there was a whimper. The sound was subtle but I heard it. Charlotte looked terrified.

Tough. She had to kiss me.

****

Lottie

“You may now kiss the bride.”

This is so not fair.

I’m eighteen years old and forced into a marriage I don’t want. My husband, Ive Yahontov, looked pissed off. I was not surprised. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t want to get married. Neither did I. Why did he have to glare at me?

I wish I’d worn the heels. I’m a short person. I’ve been small all my life so a lot of people tower over me. The shoes had hurt my feet. I’d only worn them for a few minutes, but I wasn’t used to wearing heels. I liked my sneakers. They made running a lot easier. I wish I had sneakers. I wish my life had been different. No, that wasn’t true, I wish I had never been fucking born. If I’d died on that day instead of my mother, there would have been no life to worry about. No panicking when my dad had one of his anger issues to deal with.

Even though panic had started to build up inside me, I’d spent years perfecting my mask. When at the club, hearing the insults my father threw my way, or beer bottles, or anything he wanted to vent his anger out on, I didn’t show any emotion. I wasn’t allowed to. The more I showed, the more acute his anger got.

Unlike Cassie, I wasn’t loved. My father had even welcomed my death. He’d told Ivan Volkov to kill me. He didn’t care about his daughter being in the hands of his enemy. If it had been Cassie taken, he’d have taken the whole club and slaughtered everyone.

Me? Nothing. No one. Instead, Rage, the only person who’d been kind to me, had to turn on his very own in order to save me. It’s why I was here. It’s why he didn’t point a gun at my head and take me out of the equation. I didn’t know what the consequences would be for him, and I didn’t want him to suffer.

Ive leaned in close and his lips brushed against mine. There were no feelings. He kissed me.

The church was still silent and then a round of applause, followed by the music. Ive pulled away from me but kept a firm grip on my hand. He knew I was tempted to run, even without my sneakers. Back at his home, I’d run. I’d done anything I could to get as far away from him as possible. He wasn’t quite so easily tricked as his staff or servants or slaves, whatever he wanted to call them.

Other men approached. A couple of them I recognized. They shook Ive’s hand and then kissed my cheek. Again, years of practicing not to react came in handy. Aurora, Adelaide, and Cassie came over, embracing me. I didn’t feel anything. There was nothing to feel. Nothing to acknowledge.

Cassie held me tighter but it didn’t last. Ive hadn’t let go of my hand and I turned to see Ivan Volkov.



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