Traded To The Bratva: My Husband's Betrayal

na Viti

ws, illuminating saints who had died for their beliefs in glorious, technicolor martyrdom. The irony

on my

penitent. It was the p

d cruel, a tool he typically reserved for breaking stubborn horses

ly," he stated, his v

hit my back lik

until the taste of copper flooded my mouth. I would not

ows near the holy water

his expression carved from stone. He didn't

the belt. He used to take the hits so I wouldn't h

ra

grunted, the exertion

the air trapped i

ra

t you

N

ra

ate silk of my blouse and flayed the skin beneath. It was a f

l number. A nice, rou

ties, my legs refused to hold

udging eyes of the saints, and past the hu

ered the guards. His voice was a

floor of the guest room. The master bedroom w

I needed water. I needed to wash the blood away befo

tap, and the t

r creak

e was supposedly on; she looked vibrant, her cheeks flushed

Before she even moved, the smell

r voice dripping with pois

s white as I gripped the edge of t

ng for the pain," she

ured into the bathwater, turning it a murky, violent red. "C

uld react,

he looked-or perhaps I was simply too hollowed out to fig

those wounds

e. I wasn't going into that water. Instinct

g sensation of my skin, and lo

ull

o the tub with me. The chili water splashed in a cha

g immediately. "My b

there in

eep my head above the burning wa

und my throat, and hauled me out with

head snapped back, stars

y bitch!"

her in a towel with frantic gentleness, checking her

ying her face in his chest, playing the vi

o me. His eyes

of the bathroom. He didn't stop at the bedroom doo

e said, his voice low an

d me," I c

hove

ook over.

g against the stone steps. The world dissolved i

ouldn't feel my left arm. My ribs felt like

through the

He stepped over the spot where I had been sta

d his ba

y sight," he said