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Scars He Gave Me

"You know what a good girl would have done? A good girl would have stayed home instead of sneaking out of her father's compound just to get a man to fuck her. A good girl wouldn't have stabbed a man like me with a pen. And most of all, a good girl wouldn't be turned on by holding a gun to a man's chest." I lean closer to her. "You're no good girl, Ivanna." "You… you're wrong." "Go on then. Come on. Pull the trigger." *** My name is Ivanna. I am the daughter of Misha Sidorov, the head of the Krasnoyarsk Bratva. I have just graduated and I’m about to go to college. My life is perfect until Sergio Sakharov comes into the picture. He is the darkness itself. He reigns over the entire Sakharov family and by extension, the Dvina River Vory Bratva. His word is law, and his desire is absolute. Everything changes in a split second when he steals me away and holds prisoner in Tyva, a bride for his only heir. But Sergio doesn’t take no for an answer. He always gets whatever he wants and against all reason, he claims me for himself instead. He thinks I’m the perfect match for his desires and he is determined to keep me close, even if I fight him at every turn. Except, I’m no helpless pawn. I’m not innocent. I have tasted his dark side, and I want more. The don himself, the man they call the Volkov of Dvina River appeals to me in the most sinful of ways. His wickedness draws me in, and when he decides that he wants me, I’m helpless. I can’t resist him, even if it means giving myself to him. He may think he has power over me and can control me every step of the way, but I’m about to show him who the real boss is.

Bistas_She · Urban
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64 Chs

I Know What You Feel

(IVANNA)

I climb over the railing and hold out my hand. "Come here, Lamborghini."

My little lab comes tottering over me as it bleats, obviously happy to see me. At least, that is what I feel. I love her to death.

Vikram, the man in charge of the sheep said I have to speak Russian to the lambs. He said that it is the language they understand, and I can't complain. At least, it would help me to learn more Russian. I have to admit though that he is right. It is easier to speak in Italian to an animal than a human who will only end up criticizing my pronunciation.

Lamborghini eats out the tiny pellets out of my palm as her soft mouth and tongue tease my skin. According to Vikram, the lamb is just three months old and would have been killed and sold sometime in the next two months if I hadn't intervened. Much as I hate being grateful to Sergio for anything whatsoever, I'm relieved that Lamborghini won't end up on the dinner table.