Forced By the Ruthless Bratva Beast (Tarasov Bratva #3)

Chapter 14 – Julia

So far, I wasn't entirely sure who was in control anymore—Julia Sawyer, who was starting to feel a certain way for the enemy, or Julia Gray, the one who resented the enemy for what he'd put her through.

Each day, it was a tug of war between the two personalities, as one would always remind the other of the mission.

However, despite the conflict within me, one thing was certain: the plan was working. The third way to get into a man's heart was through romance, and up until now, everything had been smooth.

Roman was fascinated by me, and he wasn't hiding it anymore. Every now and then, he'd reach out to see how I was doing. No matter how hard I tried to ignore this newborn habit of his, I simply couldn't.

I hated how I'd grown to anticipate his call, how I'd constantly check my phone for at least a glimpse of his name or a text from him. I loathed the feeling of joy and bliss that his voice offered.

Yet it couldn't be helped.

However, the good part was that he was starting to get attached, and I knew that with each passing day, I was drawing closer to the day of reckoning—the day I would have my revenge.

If I could get rid of these pesky distractions—my attraction to him, the thing with the baby—I would successfully complete this mission. I just needed to stick to the plan no matter what.

“Here you go,” Mike said, his voice drawing me out of my thoughts.

He squinted, handing me a tray laden with crystal glasses and top-shelf liquor.

My mind had wandered, but his words shattered my reverie, anchoring me to the present, where the club was pulsating, bustling with patrons who were dancing and laughing.

My lips curled into a small smile as I accepted the tray. “Thanks, Mike.”

“You okay?” he asked, brows furrowing subtly.

“Yeah. Why?” I looked at him, retaining my smile as my eyes flickered momentarily to the side.

“I'm not sure,” he said, frowning. “There's just something different about you lately.”

I tilted my head, eyes narrowing as I tried to figure out where he was going with this.

“Don’t get me wrong. It's a good difference,” he added swiftly, hands pulled out in front of him in a defensive motion.

“Uh…thanks?” I said, the last word raising into a question as I arched an eyebrow.

“You're welcome.” A playful grin spread across his face as he returned to work.

I chuckled, weaving through the crowd, my cheeks flushing as I wondered what it was about me tonight that others could see that I couldn't. Mike wasn't the first to insinuate that something was different about me recently. Even Harriet, who was never one to offer praises, had made a similar remark—a concession that must have cost her.

With a smile playing on my lips, I headed upstairs to serve the guests in the VIP lounge.

A gentle push swung the door open, and I walked in, my heels clicking against the floor. The three men were engrossed in their conversation, the air thick with their banter and laughter. They all seemed to be in their late twenties.

One was clad in a navy suit, legs crossed as he sat on a sofa, his siren eyes locked on me. Across from him was the second guy—a man in a pair of faded jeans and a crisp white shirt that clung to his form like a second skin. The third guy was sitting on a single sofa, his charcoal turtleneck shirt highlighting his muscular build.

“Here you go,” I said, bending over to set the tray on the table.

“Damn, girl, you fine!” the one with the turtleneck said, his tone dripping with more lust than admiration.

I could feel the intensity of their gazes on me as their voices and laughs gradually faded away. The way they all had their eyes roaming my body was unsettling.

“Thank you,” I said softly, forcing out a smile as I swiftly served their drinks, eager to leave this foreboding atmosphere.

“Man, check out that ass,” the one in faded jeans said, his voice low and thick as he licked his lips, his head tilting for a better view.

I felt a pang of irritation swelling up inside me, and it caused my skin to crawl. My brows furrowed at his remark, which further prompted me to be done with their service and leave.

I emptied the tray and straightened, ready to step outside.

“What's the rush, sweetheart?” the one in the navy suit asked, his tone tinged with flirtation. “Do we repulse you?” His eyes were fixed on my breasts.

As a matter of fact, you do, I thought, though I stayed professional. “Not at all, sir.” I flashed him a courteous grin. “I'm just in a hurry.”

“How much for you to strip naked?” the turtleneck guy chipped in. He stroked his chin, his gaze locked on my body.

His statement reverberated through me, leaving a bitter taste as I shot a glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“Name your price, and it'll be yours,” he said, leaning back on his couch. “I just wanna see what's under that dress.”

I'd never seen a more disgusting look in a man's eyes before.

I gritted my teeth and arched my brows at him. “I'm sorry, sir. I can't do that,” I said, my voice polite and a plastic smile on my face. “But I can get you a stripper if you want. I'm sure she'd be delighted to serve you.”

He rose to his feet, eyes darting across my figure, his imposing height towering over me as he approached.

My chest was heaving subtly as I jerked my head to look at him, hoping he wouldn't attempt anything silly. I balled a fist, ready to swing a punch if it came down to it. It wouldn't be professional, but neither was molesting a staff member.

He halted in front of me, lust flickering in his eyes. “I don't want any strippers. I don't want anyone that isn't you.”

“Sorry. But I'm off the menu.” I cast a stern glare at him before walking out.

My blood was boiling at his disrespect as I stormed down the corridor, heels clicking in rapid succession. “Who the hell does he think he is, asking me to strip?” I seethed, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the rage surging through me.

“Jules, hey…!” Eric's voice came from behind me, prompting me to slow down my pace.

He was my manager—a bald, portly man who always found pleasure in criticizing literally every staff member under him. The man had a talent for belittling people, and his gruff demeanor, together with that signature scowl on his face, made him universally disliked.

I really wasn't in the mood to entertain his snide comments on whatever it was that I might have done or failed to do.

But hold on…did he just politely call me Jules ? What happened to his usual condescending, “Hey, Sawyer?”

Intrigued by the calmness of his tone, I swiveled to face him, and my brows rose at the sight of his smile.

Okay, what's going on here?

“You okay?” He halted in front of me. “You seem upset.” His brows knitted, voice laced with concern. “What happened? Did anyone offend you? Talk to me.”

I blinked, taken aback by his unexpected empathy. Usually, he wouldn't care even if I was bleeding from my ears and nostrils.

I cleared my throat, rubbing my eyes as I tried to process the smile on his face. I'd never seen him smile before. Never. In fact, no one had. Yet there he was, a broad grin on his lips.

“Uh…it's nothing, Boss. Just some assholes being rude in the VIP lounge,” I said, watching a glint of irritation rise in his eyes.

“Those sick fucks.” He looked away, cursing under his breath, before returning his gaze to me. “Did they hurt you?”

I shook my head, squinting at the worry etched on his face. This was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me since I started working at Jupiter. I couldn't wait to tell Wren and Mike all about this.

He glanced at his watch. “You know what?” Eric began. “Why don't you just take the rest of the night off—go home, relax?”

My eyes widened, brows furrowing at his suggestion. Okay, something was definitely going on that I didn't know about because Eric would never be this nice to anyone.

“Pay no attention to those dogs.” He patted my shoulder and walked past me, but not without a smile.

A scoff escaped my lips. I had a feeling that Roman was behind this. It was the only logical explanation.

I took his advice and headed home.

The streets were deserted, eerily silent by this time of night. As I strolled down them, my bag slung over my shoulder, street lamps cast long shadows on the sidewalks, their lights flickering intermittently. A gentle wind whispered through, rustling pieces of paper scattered around. The air was pierced with the lone bark of a dog who just wouldn't shut up.

I'd walked down this street at this hour more times than I could count. But tonight, something seemed off. I had this gnawing feeling in my mind that I wasn't alone—like I was being followed.

Every now and then, I glanced over my shoulder, but each time, no one was behind me. As I continued my journey, my eyes roamed the dark alleys and shadows that lurked within.

As I rounded a corner, my apartment building came into view, and just as I was about to take another step, I heard the sound of a snapping twig.

I spun around with a swift motion, my heart skipping a beat. “Hello?” I dared to call out.

The darkness remained silent.

“Anyone there?” I flipped on my phone's flashlight, the beam of light cutting through the night, illuminating a small radius around me.

All I heard was the wind and the incessant barks of that dog.

I'd seen way too many horror movies to know standing here was a bad idea. Without wasting much time, I took off, hastening my pace until I got to the entrance of my apartment building.

I opened the door and rushed inside, heading straight to my place.

Once in my room, I tossed my keys on the table by the entrance and flung my bag onto the nearest couch, grunting as I made my way to the fridge.

Without stopping in my tracks, I slipped out of my heels with practiced precision, my bare feet chilling against the floor as I rolled my neck in a massaging motion.

I opened the fridge and helped myself to a bottle of water before taking off my jacket and gliding to the bathroom.

Shedding my dress, I stepped inside, and after having a warm bath, I stepped out, sliding into a white robe. With my hands ruffling through my wet hair, I strolled out of the bathroom, and as I jerked my head, I froze in shock at the uninvited visitor in my living room.

My eyes widened in fear as I saw one of the men from the club sitting on my couch: the turtleneck guy.

“Hello, love.” He smirked at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ready to strip yet?” His expression tightened.

This was not the time to wonder how he got inside; his presence meant trouble, and now my heart was racing like a galloping horse.

“Get out of my apartment,” I mustered the courage to say, my hand flying toward the door.

“I'm sorry, love, but you don't call the shots around here,” he said, rising to his feet. “ I do.” A solemn look settled on his face. “Boys…?”

Before I could think about what was happening, I felt weightless as someone whisked me into the air.

“Let me go!” I struggled, positioned on his shoulder, my hands slapping against his chest.

He threw me to the ground, taking a stance behind me with the other man as the turtleneck guy advanced toward me, his steps slow and menacing.

My chest was heaving rapidly, eyes wide. “Stay away from me!”

“Hold her down,” he instructed his boys.

I felt their strong arms grabbing my shoulders from behind, and in the next second, I was forced to lay on my back. I tried to scream, but one of them covered my mouth with a handkerchief while the other held both my arms, his grip tightening against my flesh.

“You should've just taken the money and stripped,” the turtleneck guy said, fingers unfastening his belt.

No, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening . I was so terrified that my eyes felt like they were about to pop from their sockets, and I was hyperventilating behind the handkerchief, my chest heaving.

He unzipped his pants and stepped forward, holding out his cock. It was so disgusting, and I knew I couldn't let him stick it inside me. I continued to struggle against their restraints, but the more I tried to free myself, the more powerless I felt.

He laughed, and as he bent over, I flung my foot into his face with all the strength that I could muster. He staggered back, hands flying to his bleeding nostrils as he groaned like a wounded lion. “The bitch broke my nose!”

By now, the others’ hold on me had loosened slightly. It was my opportunity, and I immediately seized it. I managed to bite the hand of the one covering my mouth, my teeth sinking into his fingers.

He wailed in agony, withdrawing his hand with a reflex move. I sighted my heels lying at a reachable distance, and without a second thought, I forced my hand out of my oppressor’s hold and grabbed one.

I swung the heel with treacherous precision, and in a swift arc, I delivered a strike—its pointed tip sinking into the man's thigh with ruthless efficiency.

As he groaned in pain, I sprang to my feet, bolting toward the door.

“One more step, and I swear to God, I'll pull the fucking trigger!” one of them threatened, cocking his gun.

I stopped in my tracks, hands raised in surrender as I shut my eyes, afraid of how this was going to end. I was helpless and alone against three sex-hungry maniacs, each of whom I'd inflicted physical pain upon.

They were furious, and only God knew what they'd do to me.

“Now, we can either do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way,” the turtleneck guy said, the roughness in his voice hinting at his agony. “Either way, we get what we want.”

My body was shuddering, my mind flooded with a myriad of the possible horrors they would inflict on me.

Slowly, I turned around, lips quivering as I met his gaze.

“Not so feisty now, are you?” He snorted and glanced at his boys, each of them laughing. He returned his gaze to me, his gun still pointing at my face.

This was my first time being at gunpoint, and I was fidgeting, trembling, as I wondered if this was how my parents felt the night they were killed—so overcome with fear that they could barely process anything else.

“You're gonna strip, and I'm fuck you until you pass out,” he bit out, his voice dripping with venom.

The other two laughed, adding a chortled, “Yeah!”

Psychos. They were psychos, and I'd never been as in dire need of saving as I was right now.

Instantly, the door behind me burst open, and I flinched, dropping to the ground at the sound of the gunshot that claimed the life of one attacker

Heavy footsteps pounded into the room, accompanied by thick grunts and more gunshots, followed by an eerie silence.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice came through, so gentle and comforting.

How did he know that I was in trouble? I wondered, raising my head to see the man who'd saved my life.

“Are you okay?” Roman squatted to my level, his palm rubbing through my hair. “Did they hurt you?” As he looked into my teary eyes, his lips tightened.

I shook my head, shifting my gaze to the dead men lying in pools of their own blood.

My heart skipped a beat, and my breath ceased for a moment as the gruesome sight flooded my mind with the memory of my parents’ lifeless bodies. It was like déjà vu.

My gaze locked on the sight as those disturbing images of my parents’ corpses flashed through my head. My chest was heaving rapidly, and I couldn’t catch my breath. My entire world seemed to be collapsing.

I felt weightless as Roman lifted me bridal style in his strong arms, his eyes boring into mine. “It's okay. You're safe now.” His lip curled up into a smile. He took his eyes off me and gave an order to the men who had come in with him. “Clean up this mess.”

One nodded. “Yes, Boss.”

“Let's get you outta here,” he said to me, his tone soft.

His words were soothing to my soul, and I couldn't help but wonder why I felt so safe around the man who had killed my parents.

With tears in my eyes, I melted into him, resting my weary head against his chest as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped me.