Sold to the Bratva

Sold to the Bratva Forced Marriage Mafia Romance Morozov Bratva Book 4 Lexi Asher Copyright © 2023 by Lexi Asher. All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of the book only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including recording, without prior written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in a book review. Contents Chapter 1 - Yuri Chapter 2 - Kira Chapter 3 - Yuri Chapter 4 - Kira Chapter 5 - Yuri Chapter 6 - Kira Chapter 7 - Yuri Chapter 8 - Kira Chapter 9 - Yuri Chapter 10 - Kira Chapter 11 - Yuri Chapter 12 - Kira Chapter 13 - Yuri Chapter 14 - Kira Chapter 15 - Yuri Chapter 16 - Kira Chapter 17 - Yuri Chapter 18 - Kira Chapter 19 - Yuri Chapter 20 - Kira Chapter 21 - Yuri Chapter 22 - Kira Chapter 23 - Yuri Chapter 24 - Kira About the Author Books by Lexi Asher Chapter 1 - Yuri “What did you just say?” I looked across the restaurant table at my brother Ivan. I could see why he wanted this meeting in public and not in his office. Less chance I’d make a scene, but right now that chance was definitely above zero. I was stunned at what he was asking, though I knew it was really a command and not a request. And I was pissed off at the look of irritation on his face, now that he knew I wasn’t going to fold so easily. My three older brothers were mafia lords, with our eldest, Ivan, ruling most of southern Florida, parts of Moscow and now, Boston, with an iron fist. Aleksei and Nikolai were his right hand men, juggling our family’s criminal activities while also running a few honest businesses on the side. Me? I did the accounting and did just fine while keeping my nose mostly clean. They were often surprised by how well staying out of crime paid, but even though I worked my magic every year to keep them off the government’s radar, they still refused to understand how much people were willing to fork over to me to keep their money from going to taxes. They really refused to understand how much juggling I did to keep them on the right side of the law. Or at least keep them from getting noticed when they were on the wrong side of it. Which was most of the time. Yes, I was getting pretty heated when Ivan rolled his eyes at me, knowing full well I heard what he said. Still, I wanted him to repeat it. I wanted him to say out loud how he thought I didn’t do enough for the family. Let him question my loyalty. Then he could see how well he judged my lack of wanting to make a scene in a public place when I punched him right in his smug face. They didn’t seem to get how narrow the line I walked for them was, how every time I joined them in one of their skirmishes, I risked everything. Not just the completely (mostly) legal law firm I’d built up over the years, not just my reputation as a sterling citizen despite the Morozov last name, but all the relationships with law enforcement and local government that benefits them. I could just as easily spend my free time at art functions instead of Mayor’s fundraisers, but I did that to keep their asses out of jail, not to mention all the insider information I could glean. Sure, getting in a fight now and then was exhilarating and I didn’t mind stepping in when I was needed, but what he was asking now wasn’t merely standing in for a few hours with a mean look on my face and a gun in my hand. This was a step too far. Way too far. I raised a brow at him, waiting for him to expound on his insane decree. And Ivan still had the nerve to look at me like I wasn’t a team player. My fist was ready in my lap, but the peacemaker in me made me give him one more chance to take it all back. “Tell me again what you just said. Explain it like I’m five.” He rolled his eyes some more and took a sip of his beer, as if we were out for a normal lunch and he hadn’t pulled the rug out from under my life. A life I liked very much exactly the way it was. “You need to get married, Yuri.” The steel was there, under the slightly cajoling tone. I continued to pretend I had a choice. “Sure,” I agreed, sipping my own beer. Normally the craft brew would go down well on such a hot Miami day, but it tasted like old ashtrays the way Ivan had my stomach so churned up with anger. “Eventually I definitely need to get married. As soon as I find the right woman.” He shook his head. “The Rossis up in Boston are making noises. Causing more trouble than we expected.” “That sounds like an Aleksei problem,” I answered, forcing a smile at our server who dropped off our Cuban sandwiches at the table. I couldn’t make myself take a bite even though I wanted to play along with the ruse that everything was fine. “I thought Theresa’s mother could handle them. Wasn’t that part of their wedding deal?” My other brother Aleksei had married into a problematic family who had dealings up north, and unfortunately brought a minor war with them when they joined us. His new wife’s mother promised she could squash it, and it would never affect our business down here. But apparently she was wrong, and I didn’t get why I needed to pay for it. “It’s a Morozov problem,” Ivan said coldly, then sighed. “I seem to