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

Chapter 16 – Julia

I think I'm starting to fall for him, I thought, laying naked under his sheets, biting my lower lip as I reminisced on the amazing sex we had all night long.

Images of our bodies writhing in sync and the sounds of his primal growls flooded my mind, leaving me wet. I could still feel his hands over my skin, and my pussy tingled at the thought of how his tongue and fingers had made me squirt.

No man had ever made me feel the way Roman had. He'd somehow managed to unlock something within me. He'd awakened the wildest parts of me, and despite my reservations, I couldn't find it in me to hold back on expressing my desires.

None of that was fake. I loved every bit of it. And although I’d been ashamed to initiate the dirty talk at first, I was glad that I did. It was the best medium to express how good his cock made me feel.

I was delighted that he reveled not only in my moans but also in my words. It was like neither of us was holding back. I gave him all of me, and he did the same.

We'd started out in his office, then later on, we moved over here—to his room. Roman fucked my brains out in ways I never thought possible. He'd rammed me in more ways than I could remember, but my favorite was the doggy.

I fondled my breasts, my hand traveling down my legs as I recalled the way his groin had slapped loudly against my butt.

“Fuck me harder! Yes, yes, yes…!” I cried out, positioned on all fours—naked—and arching my ass with my chest flat against the bed.

“You like that?” He spanked my butt, his cock rapidly pounding me from the back. “You like that, don't you?”

“Yes, please, don't stop!” I trembled, my skin flushing with desire.

His slaps on my ass brought more pleasure than pain, sending sweet sensations to my brain. The faster he plunged into me, the faster my nipples grazed over the sheets, accentuating the rapture coursing through my body.

As I lay on the bed, reminiscing, my body writhed in ecstasy.

Rapidly, I brushed four fingers over my clit, my hips bucking as my hand flew to cover my mouth in an attempt to muffle my moans. My eyes widened at the overwhelming feeling that jolted through my veins like electricity.

My body slumped on the bed as I panted, realizing how deeply attracted I was to him.

But what I felt for Roman was beyond sexual attraction. I wasn’t sure what love felt like…but could this be it?

He'd been more of a lover to me than anyone, and whenever I was around, I always felt secure. Why was that?

If he was such a bad person—and I knew he was; I’d witnessed him kill without remorse—why couldn't I hate him?

He had killed for me, though.

Whatever I was feeling toward him was mutual; that was a fact.

Roman had been kind to me, romantic in his own way, and he'd just proven that I was someone he was willing to do the unthinkable for.

But I couldn't be falling in love with him.

I cupped my face in my palms, letting the guilt flowing through me take its course. The struggle between how I should or should not feel about this man inflicted me with a severe headache that quenched the sexual desire that had been burning within me seconds ago.

He’d killed my parents. Harboring feelings for such a cruel man was a bad idea.

But how sure was I that he truly did it—that he killed my parents?

Roman was a ruthless killer. Agreed. He hated my father. Agreed.

But did he hate him enough to kill his wife as well? That was the million-dollar question, and a part of me—the revenge-seeking part—hated this newfound skepticism about the mission.

I was starting to question a lot, especially now that I was beginning to understand the type of man he was. As cruel as Roman was, he didn't strike me as someone would kill a defenseless woman.

Was I really on the right track? Or was I just letting my emotions get in the way of the mission?

I let out a soft sigh and got out of bed, feeling the cold floor beneath my bare feet as I slipped into my oversized T-shirt. With shut eyes, I drew in a deep breath, savoring the scent of his cologne that filled the air.

My stomach rumbled, gnawing at me. Considering how many rounds we’d gone last night, it was only logical for hunger pangs to twist through me.

I dispelled the illicit images creeping back into my mind on the mere thought of our amazing time together—our multiple rounds.

I'd had my fair share of distraction this morning; it was time I stepped out. Swiftly, I swept my hair atop my head, securing it with a nearby pin from his table.

I glided out of his room and located the kitchen downstairs, but as I made my way through the house, I realized that I was home alone.

Roman must have headed out while I slept, but I wasn't sure when he'd be back.

I paused in my tracks in the living room, eyes darting upstairs toward his office. My brows knitted together, realizing that this was the chance I'd been waiting for. The whole reason for manipulating him was to get close enough to find something against him.

This was it. This was my opportunity to get the evidence that Agent Anderson and I needed.

With cautious glances, I looked around the space to be sure I was truly alone before rushing back upstairs, my feet pounding as I ascended.

I quickened my pace through the corridor until I halted in front of his office, my heart humming like a live wire. My eyes dropped to the door handle, but I hesitated for a moment, my hand hanging mid-air. I held my breath, paralyzed, as I stared at the handle, wondering if this was a good idea.

What if I get caught? What if he returns and finds me snooping around in his office? Then what?

The more time I spent contemplating my next move, the closer I got to jeopardizing everything.

I drew a deep breath and grabbed the handle, but it was locked. As expected.

Unfazed, my fingers flew into my hair, retrieving the slender pin that held my makeshift bun. My hair fell loosely on my shoulders as I extracted the pin, and with practiced ease, I inserted it into the lock.

Picking locks was one of the skills I'd picked up during my training—I'd anticipated facing this challenge, and now I was prepared.

After seconds of expertly manipulating the mechanism, the door released a soft click. I grabbed the handle, turned it, and the door creaked open.

I walked in and shut it behind me, my pace hastening as I headed to his desk, sinking into his plush leather chair. “Okay, okay….” I dialed Agent Anderson's number. “Come on, pick up, pick up….” I muttered the words in a rush, my heart pounding in the fear of getting caught.

“Jules, hi,” his voice came through the phone.

“I'm in his office,” I declared, my tone hushed but audible, my eyes constantly glancing at the door.

“Amazing,” he said, pride flickering in his voice.

“I just need to get access to his laptop.” I flipped it open. “It's password protected.” My fingers rattled across the keyboard as I attempted to hack into it. “It's an alpha-numeric code, and I'm gonna need your help,” I said, eyes roaming the lit screen like a pro.

Hacking was yet another skill I had to learn in order to execute this mission. Looking back, I just realized how much knowledge I had acquired in the name of revenge.

Anderson guided me throughout the process, helping out where I got stuck until, finally, I had access.

“I'm in,” I said, unable to hide the note of triumph.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Now, all you have to do is find evidence linking him to your parents’ murder.”

“On it.” I straightened my back, my gaze fixed on the flickering screen as I navigated through a maze of files.

My eyes narrowed as I hurriedly went through them one by one. “I'm not seeing anything about my parents here,” I said, still searching.

“Keep looking; it has to be there,” he encouraged me.

I searched everything, including his recycling bin, but there was nothing on the Grays.

However, I did see more than a few files on the people he'd killed, money the Tarasov Bratva had laundered, and a whole lot of other crimes. It would be enough to put him away for good.

This was all the evidence Anderson needed to burn Roman to the ground. If he got his hands on this….

I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my eyes as I struggled with this pang of guilt that wouldn't stop gnawing at me.

“You know what?” Anderson's voice pierced my thoughts. “Copy everything and send them to me. I'll sort them out myself.”

My heart skipped at his instruction, causing my breath to hitch in my throat.

Was I ready to see Roman get in trouble when there was a chance that he didn't kill my parents?

“Jules, are you there? Did you hear me?” The urgency in Anderson's voice was palpable. “Jules.”

Another call came in immediately—a call I could never ignore. It was the hospital. It was the perfect distraction from this difficult choice that I was faced with.

“I'm sorry, Anderson, I have to take this,” I said, watching the incoming call.

He was still protesting, saying stuff like this was our only chance, when I accepted the hospital's call, ending his. “Hello?”

I went silent for a moment, listening to the doctor on the other line with gradually widening eyes. “What?” My brows arched in disbelief. “I'll be right there.”

***

The door swung open, and I dashed into the ward, eager to see for myself what the doctor had told me over the phone.

My palm flew to my mouth, and my bag fell out of my hand. I stood frozen in shock at the sight of my brother standing by the window, gazing outside.

With misted eyes, I stepped forward, legs shuddering as he turned to face me with a small smile on the corner of his lips.

“Oh, my God, Tommy!” An abrupt sob escaped me as I rushed to embrace him tightly, overwhelmed with joy, tears trickling down my cheeks.

I examined him, eyes roaming his body with wonder flickering in their depths. “How?” I raised my head, acknowledging the doctor's presence.

“It's quite a miracle, Julia,” Doctor Wells said, smiling. “He, uh…he just woke up and started talking. His words are a little mixed up, but that isn't too much of a big deal. We can work on that with time.”

What mattered most was that he was finally awake and on his feet.

I returned my attention to him and helped him sit on the edge of the bed.

Squatting in front of him, I ruffled his hair, looking deep into his eyes with a grateful heart.

“I'll leave you two alone,” Doctor Wells said.

“Thank you, doctor,” I replied, jerking my head toward him.

He nodded and stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, Tommy.” I took his hands, gently squeezing his hands with a radiant smile. “I'm here now.”

“Big. Gun. Blood. So much blood,” he said, looking at me, his expression blank.

I squinted, puzzled at his words. “Tommy, what're you saying?”

“Big. Gun. Blood. So much blood,” he repeated in the same sequence.

My brows furrowed as I watched him say the same words in the same sequence over and over. He was definitely trying to tell me something. This was a message.

“Tommy.” I drew closer, my gaze unwavering. “Are you talking about that night?”

He nodded.

I let out a sigh of relief at the fact that he understood me. “Okay. Did you see something—someone, maybe?”

Again, he nodded.

Now, my heart was racing in my heaving chest at the possibility of who he might have seen. I withdrew my phone from my pocket and fetched a photo of Roman and a few of his family members—brother, cousins, and an elderly man who, from my research, I knew to be his uncle.

I'd studied the Tarasov family, and I knew a thing or two about everyone in that picture.

“Here,” I said, showing him the photo. “Can you identify the man you saw that night?”

Tom raised his hand, pointing at one of them, and I traced his finger to Roman. My heart shattered at this realization, which caused my lips to tremble. I’d seriously been hoping that it wasn't him—that way, I'd feel less guilty—but my hope was snuffed.

Hold a minute , I thought, eyes narrowing as I traced his finger again. It wasn't Roman he was pointing at. But I needed to confirm.

“This man?” I asked, zooming in on Roman's face.

Tom shook his head, and immediately, a wind of relief blew across my face, pulling a deep sigh out of me. With one hand, I smoothed my hair backward, overwhelmed with gratitude. I was more focused on the fact that Roman wasn't the enemy than I was on who actually was.

I traced Tom's finger to a mean-looking man at the back of their Uncle Ivan. “Him?”

Tom nodded.

That was Ivan's bodyguard, the one they called Jorah.

From what I gathered about these men, Jorah only answered to Ivan. And if he were the one who had pulled the trigger on my parents, that would only mean that Ivan was the one who had pointed the gun.

Ivan was the mastermind behind the attack on my parents. But why?

It didn't matter why.

He was the enemy, not Roman.

I'd been chasing after the wrong man this whole time.

Tom slipped into my embrace, holding on to me with a tight hug that melted my heart. I tossed my phone on the bed, wrapping my arms around him. “I've missed you, little brother.” I kissed his head, sniffing as I fought back the tears in my eyes.

I had two reasons to be glad today: My brother was finally awake, and the man I was falling for wasn't the one who'd killed my parents. He wasn't the enemy.

It was time to end this mission.