Page 40 of Forced By the Bratva King
You’re not fucked up. You’re strong. Keeping all of this inside and still finding a reason to smile all through is a sign of strength,a voice said to me, and a small wind of relief blew across my face.
“Chris, meet my wife, Sierra,” Artem’s voice called, pulling me out of my thoughts.
What the fuck?My heart skipped a beat as I set eyes on the tall man my husband was introducing me to. It really was him—Chris, Madelyn’s boyfriend. If he was here, then that meant that she wasn’t too far behind. Shit! I wasn’t ready to face her now.Hold on a minute. How do Chris and Artem know each other?
“Sierra, meet Chris, one of my associates,” Artem added.
“Associates?” My brows rose reflexively at his statement.
“Yes, Chris is my weapons dealer. He supplies me with the ammunition I need. I must say, his arsenal is quite remarkable,” Artem explained.
Does Madelyn know this? I doubt that—she’d not stick around with him if she found what he was doing.
“Hold on,” Chris said, finally recognizing me. “I know you, don’t I?” He peered closely. “Yes, I do remember you—you’re Madelyn’s best friend. We met at the club that day.”
“I remember you, Chris,” I said, a little upset at the young man for being involved in this business and still going after my best friend. It was hypocritical, but that was how I felt. “How is she? Is she here with you?” I looked around for her, although a part of me wished that she wasn't here.
“Who, Madelyn?”
Who else, dum dum?
“She’s fine, I guess,” he answered
I frowned at his response. “You guess?”
Chris sighed heavily. “Yeah, we haven’t spoken in a while. She dumped my ass.”
Way to go, girl! At least you’ve managed to escape this life.
I caught Artem casting a stern look at someone in the crowd. Curious as to who had caught my husband’s attention, I traced his gaze to a man in an impeccable suit exchanging pleasantries with a small group of people at a distance.
Fuck!I exclaimed.
My knees started to quake, and my legs suddenly turned to jelly. I had narrowly escaped bumping into Madelyn, but sadly, I wasn’t so lucky as to escape this confrontation.
The man walked toward us, and the nearer he drew, the faster my heart raced. Artem seemed like he detested the man’s presence, and from the look in both of their eyes, I could tell it was a mutual hatred.
“Niall Donovan,” my husband called softly as the man halted in front of us.
“Artem Tarasov,” Niall said with the same tone, his eyes fixed on me with a blank expression.
My legs could no longer carry my weight, and I was praying that the ground would open up and swallow me alive, or better still, that I would just drop dead. Unable to be a part of whatever business or unfinished business they had, I put my head down, trying so hard not to show my fear. The outcome of this confrontation was unclear in my head, and Niall wouldn’t stop stealing subtle glances at me. He hadn’t said anything yet, and if only he could just pretend not to recognize me, maybe then I’d survive this evening, and so would the innocent people at this event.
Calm down, Sierra, calm down.Discreetly, I drew in deep breaths, in through my nose, out through my mouth. Usually, this technique worked, but not this time.It’s not working. Fuck.I was praying that my husband wouldn’t notice Niall’s momentary gazes at me because then, shit would get real quicker than I could blink. I didn’t want that.
“Are you here to start a fight again?” Artem asked him, his brows furrowing at Niall. “Might I remind you how it ended the last time?”
“I lost men that night because of you,” Niall said, glaring at Artem.
“Good,” Artem said. “Keep that in mind before doing anything stupid.”
I noticed instantly that Artem’s men, scattered around the hall, were subtly reaching for their guns, their eyes fixed on us.
Oh, God, no. Not now, please.
Niall saw they were ready for anything. He scoffed and faced Artem. “Tell your men to stand down. I’m not here to fight.” He added, “Even though you have my right-hand man holed up in your cell.”
“Don’t worry, we’re going easy on him,” came Artem’s sassy response.