Page 10 of Forced By the Bratva King

“911, what’s your emergency?” the female voice spoke through the speaker of my phone.

Chapter 4 – Artem

Shame. I was just starting to enjoy her company, the beauty who had mistaken me for a certain Chris.

At first, I didn’t know I was the one she was looking at—the one she was headed toward. I did see her walking in my direction, but I assumed that there was someone behind me she was getting ready to meet. She seemed rather nervous, and I noticed that the heels she had on were hurting her feet even though she did an excellent job at masking how uncomfortable she was in them.

It took me less than a second to recognize that she was the same girl—the innocent one with a beautiful face who I had seen standing all by herself before Yuri stole my attention.

My brows rose when she stopped in front of me and flashed the prettiest smile I’d seen in a long time. She called me Chris; I didn’t know who the fuck that was, but she thought I was him. The girl looked at me with a puzzled expression like this Chris guy was supposed to have known who she was.

I decided to be this character; I was Chris, and there was a gorgeous girl who needed me to remember her. I had to play along. Iwantedto play along. Yuri was still getting things ready and would inform me once it was time, meaning right now, I was free to be this Chris for her.

“I'm Madelyn’s best friend, Sierra. That should ring a bell,” she said, clearly hoping I would remember her now.

This was my window to jump into character and see where this would go.

“Ohh. Sierra. Right,” I said, grinning at her innocence and naivety. “How are you?”

It was fun indulging her in a conversation in the disguise of someone I’d never met before. From what I could tell, thisMadelyn girl was Chris’s girlfriend, and Sierra was supposed to come over and say hello to him.

She was so cute and charming, oblivious to my games.

This little time we spent talking was enough to get a better look at her. She was definitely shy, but her skin was glowing, and her eyes had a spark in them that ignited something in me. Her lips were cherry red, and her dentition was perfect. She smiled a lot, and each dose made an attempt to melt my stone-cold heart.

Sierra was absolutely stunning and elegant in every way, and although she stuttered at intervals, I knew that was only because she was nervous. The girl was divine and had somehow managed to bring out the improv actor in me. It felt good playing this Chris—whoever he was—but my mind was still on the mission. She was so gorgeous that I couldn’t stop staring at her.

I watched her cheeks flush when I told her that her friend had told me she was beautiful.

“She told me you were beautiful. But she didn’t tell me you werethisbeautiful.” I meant every single word I said.

“Thank you.” A radiant smile spread across her face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that,” I said, catching those green eyes of hers.

They were a beautiful few seconds, and we both stared at each other in silence. However, this was just a little distraction, no matter how comforting it might seem. I jerked my eyes toward the couple walking up to us.

“Sierra,” the girl, whose arm was locked in a young man’s, called out.

The moment Sierra turned to answer, I spotted Yuri across the room. He’d found Nelson McCall, and now, it wastime for business. Without a word, I left Sierra and walked away.

“Where is he?” I asked Yuri, adjusting my suit as we stepped out of the club.

“The men have him in an alley at the back,” he replied, leading the way while I quietly followed.

“Do you know who I am?” The arrogance in Mr. McCall’s voice was glaring as he struggled against my men who had him held down in the darkness of the alley. “I will fucking kill you! You’re as good as dead, you hear me?!”

“Shut the fuck up.” One of them threw a punch that turned the man’s head, silencing him in an instant.

“Pakhan,” the one who had thrown the powerful blow said, acknowledging my presence.

I halted in from the target with Yuri by my side.

“Hold on, ‘Pakhan?’” Mr. McCall's voice trembled at the realization of whom he was dealing with. “Fuck, you’re Russian Bratva.”

“And you’re a fucking dead man,” Yuri said to him.

All at once, his demeanor changed. “No, please. I’ll do anything,” he began, his figure shuddering in the dark. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it—triple it!Please.”