The Bratva’s Auctioned Bride (Levov Bratva #10)

Chapter 1 - Lara

At first, there was no fighting the darkness surrounding me, closing in tight enough to suffocate.

I held on to that sliver of consciousness until more fragments came together little by little, and I regained enough of my senses to hear those faint whimpers—the quiet pleas and sniffles.

Given how warm the room was, I could tell there were multiple people around me, all sounding just as freaked out as I felt. Desperate to know where I was, I tried to look for them, but I couldn’t see anything. It was dark still.

As I blinked, feeling pressure against my lashes, I let go of a startled breath. My eyes were covered. Blindfolded.

That thought spiked my heart rate even more as I tried to maintain some semblance of sanity.

Deep breaths. Just breathe.

Even if I had no idea where I was or what was going on, I needed to stay calm. My brothers would tell me exactly that.

Heavy footsteps approached me, and without warning, the blindfold was torn away from my face.

The room wasn't bright by any means, but the sudden influx of light made my eyes ache before they adjusted. As it all came rushing in, the scene around me made my heart sink.

I was surrounded by women—different appearances and ethnicities, but the age range seemed mostly consistent. Scanning their faces, all just as alarmed as I was, I knew they couldn't have been any older than me.

Glancing down, I realized my wrists were pinched together in front of me with zip ties, but beneath that, I was still wearing the navy-blue gown from earlier. I had no purse, phone, or anything else on me. It was just me and my dress, surrounded by other terrified women as we waited in a windowless room as a man removed more blindfolds before wordlessly standing in the doorway, not looking at anyone in particular.

Some of the women tried to ask what was going on, but they received no response. The others simply whimpered and shook with the most genuine fear I had ever seen.

Looking down at the expensive fabric still on my body, hazy, half-tangible memories swirled within my mind, triggered by the dress.

The last I could remember, I was at a gala in place of my brothers. None of them could—or wanted to—go, so they sent me in good faith to maintain our reputation as a charitable family.

The evening had been as mundane as ever, with stuffy, boring interactions with uptight, pompous elites in the city, but after I slipped away for a breather, the memories were too splintered for me to piece together again. Something must've happened in that blank period in my mind, and somehow, I ended up in this room.

At first, I wondered if I was in a holding cell after becoming blindly intoxicated at the gala, the booze was blocking out those memories. But I knew that couldn't be true. I had two glasses of champagne at most, and I could hold my liquor. Beyond that, there was no way this room belonged to any precinct.

Given how afraid everyone around me seemed, I knew it wasn't as simple as that.

I had no way of knowing how much time had gone by, but between the weeping around me and the overwhelming dread in my gut, I couldn't think straight. I was at a complete loss.

Eventually, the man pressed a finger against his earpiece, and he took a step towards one of the women. He was anything but gentle as he grabbed her arm and hoisted her to her feet.

The poor thing was too scared to fight it as she stood and was escorted out of the stuffy room with her eyes wide and her chest rising and falling frantically.

More confusion settled around the room as she disappeared into the hall, and a moment later, the man came back to retrieve another.

Despite how my heart raced and how badly I wanted to shut it all out, I made myself watch. I silently counted how long it took for the guard to leave with one woman before coming back for another.

From what I could tell, he was grabbing four women back-to-back, only to wait about ten to fifteen minutes before he came back for another set. Soon enough, the room started to dwindle, leaving me to sit in panic, wondering when it would be my turn to face whatever was outside. By then, I'd wrangled with that dread for so long that my skin was damp, and I could hardly feel anything else.

When the man eventually stood in front of me, a sharp chill moved through me, and I met his dark eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. Emotionless, he reached forward and gripped my arm, hoisting me up just like the others.

As terror rang through my body, I tried to not fall. I tried to fight to some extent as he pulled me through the door, but his grip on me was too tight, and I was still reeling from the realization that I had no upper hand to leverage.

Moving down a hall, the guard gave me no room to struggle. Despite wishing I could do more, my legs felt almost useless beneath me, and I was far too disoriented to be of any use to myself.

Another guard waited at the end of the hall, and he faced us with a card in his hand that had a number on it in thick black print. He threw the other an irritated look.

“Watch it. This one’s not like the others. She’s worth something, so don’t mark her.”

The man guiding me scoffed but took the heavy card before pushing it into my hand, forcing me to hang on to it despite my zip ties. “Not my fault if they bruise easily.”

While the new guard wasn’t impressed, he didn’t say anything else, grabbing my opposite arm as the other man disappeared behind me, likely on his way back to fetch someone else. The new guy’s grip wasn’t as hard, yet it was firm enough to keep me in place.

The guard wordlessly took me through a door, made another turn, and then guided me into a narrower passage flanked by high velvet curtains. My brows came together as I took it all in, able to hear a low murmur in the distance. Light spilled into the space overtop and beneath the curtains, making me further question where I was.

Getting a sense that this guard wasn’t quite as rough as the previous one, I murmured as we walked, “Where am I?”

The man took a moment to answer, not bothering to look at me. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

His answer stirred a deep irritation within me, and I wanted to snap something back at him, but he just barely tightened his grip on my arm as we stood where the curtains ended, allowing me to see what looked like a stage ahead of me. He leaned in closer to my ear, voice low.

“Don’t speak a word when you get out there. Stand, hold your sign up, and don’t make a fool of yourself or us. Just pray you get a good one.”

Us .

I didn’t know what that meant, or whose honor I was supposed to guard, but it only made my stomach twist more.

As we stood off to the side, the woman who left the room before me was whisked backstage, hauled by the arm as she and another guard passed by us. Her eyes were still widened, but beyond that, her steps were rigid with disbelief and dread.

Before I could examine her further, I was nudged forward, and the guard gestured for me to continue.

Despite not wanting to find out what was on the other side of that curtain, I was pushed out, and I maintained my wobbly balance as I stepped onto the stage, immediately blinded by the spotlight on me.

I awkwardly gripped the heavy card harder than necessary as I focused on my surroundings, taking several steps closer.

Despite the bright light that seemed to burn into my eyes, the rest of the place was dimly lit with dark walls and floors. There were deep red chairs around the room, along with tables and booths in the background. Various men in different states of black-tie attire occupied those places, and at once, their eyes were on me.

The longer I looked, the more those telltale details became apparent, and I had no doubt it was a seedy club somewhere. From the looks of it, it was somewhere underground and hidden away from the general public.

My hands trembled faintly as I stood there, feeling like a hare cornered by hungry wolves.

“Next up, we have number two-eight-nine—a real showstopper,” a man said from the right side of the stage as he approached me, putting his hand on the small of my back to guide me further out and give them all a better view of me.

His touch was gentle in comparison to the guards’, but with his almost greasy smile, apparently knowing something I didn’t, being close to him made my stomach turn anyway.

“The Levov Princess, worth a pretty penny and no doubt a rare find,” the man announced with a smug smile. “For you cheapskates out there, don’t even bother opening your wallets for this one.”

The men in the crowd chuckled lowly to themselves as their eyes roamed over me like I was just a piece of meat, glimmering with interest. Some leaned against their chairs and seemed to consider the idea.

Levov. So they knew who I was, and that was a selling feature, apparently.

I had very little experience in the world of organized crime—that was my brothers’ domain, not mine. But even so, I was well aware of the value I would have to other men in the business, whether that be for marriage, blackmail, or anything else in between.

And given the chance to take it all in, able to see the bigger picture, there was no room left to doubt exactly what was going on.

Even as the announcer continued to speak, letting his voice project throughout the room while those men stared at me like I was a meal to be devoured, I couldn’t focus on his words.

I could only hear my pulse pounding in my ears, standing there like a frozen idiot.

As much as I believed I could hang with my brothers and act tough with them, it became immediately clear that I wasn’t like them at all. Beyond my limited knowledge, I was at a disadvantage at that moment, and it seemed I couldn’t do anything about it.

I wasn’t armed. I didn’t know how to fight, and I certainly didn’t know how to get myself out of this mess.

Unmoving with the sign clutched in my hands, bright lights in my eyes as the crowd drank me in with their predatory gazes, panic rose quietly within me. My skin went cold, and I couldn’t think about anything but the damning realization that made my head pound.

I was at an auction, and I was for sale.